#IAmGrateful 29 (Also SOTC 262/365)

Weakness

You can interpret weakness however you want here. Faults. Mistakes. Imperfections. The things we just can't help, no matter how hard we try. Everything about us that's broken.

I've done battle with all of that this year, and to be honest, I would not say 'grateful' has been a go-to word to describe my feelings about any of it.

Sure, there is an understanding that our brokenness and imperfections are a part of this complex thing we call being human. And even acceptance that I will come face-to-face with them in life's arena sometimes.

But gratitude...?

...And yet...

I am grateful for my weaknesses--in a way. (I had to pause after typing that, just to make sure I believe my own words.) It's not the same... "flavour"... of gratitude I would ascribe to other facets of life. But, I do recognize that my flaws are a part of what make me who I am. Just as we often talk about how our stronger, more desirable attributes are unique to us, so are our imperfections. No one has the exact same combination of imperfections and broken pieces as me. And so as much as I hate them some days, as much as they leave me with my foot in my mouth, or overthinking things, or being completely oblivious to what's going on--I am still grateful for them. They keep me humble; they challenge me to grow; they help me recognize my strengths.

I am also grateful for those who love me--flawed and broken and all. Those who think I'm worth it not despite my imperfections and weaknesses, but with them and because of them.

The Multi-Coloured Thoughts in My Head

Between recent local pride parades and the US decision to legalize gay marriage country-wide, there's been a lot of colour in my Facebook feed. Because of my social circles, I get the pro-posts and the anti-posts.

...Am I the only one who feels like she sits in the middle?

This has always been one topic where I can't pinpoint exactly what I believe. I live in the tension of not fully knowing.

My Christian faith drives my values. I know what I've been taught--what the New Testament says: that homosexual practices are a 'no.'* And since I use Scripture as one tool to guide my faith practices, I'm inclined to settle on, "well, okay, then--I can't support homosexual practices as something godly." That is, lean into the idea that the lifestyle falls into that swamp of behaviours called sin.

Seems simple, but what does that look like in the day-to-day? ...I feel like church doesn't help me here (and by church, I don't mean my personal congregation, I mean the global institution). And it's likely, in part, because the church struggles with its response too. But I feel like the church often mixes up how it treats the LGBTQ person and the LGBTQ lifestyle.

From what I can tell, the Bible admonishes the practice, not the person.

(It admonishes a lot of practices, but never the person.)

I've never actually had much trouble with that concept.

Because did you know you can disagree with someone and still love and accept them?

I'm pretty sure Jesus' command was to love others. Full stop.
(I know the kind of people He hung out with.)

A meme flew through my news feed ages ago that read along the lines of, "getting angry at someone because what they do is against your religion is like being angry at someone for eating a doughnut because you're on a diet."

It's not a perfect analogy, but do you get the point? If I have chosen to adhere to a certain value system with certain beliefs, then fine--but that doesn't give me the right to go around admonishing people who aren't in line with that value system.

I wish that hypocritical, Pharisitical** Christians would stop giving the rest of us a bad name.

There is a place for LGBTQ individuals in our pews.

There's a place for them on our worship teams.

There's even a place for them to--gasp--teach your children in Sunday School.

Scripture spends a good chunk of time talking about the body of Christ. And the fact that all believers are part of that.

And some believers don't fit traditional gender roles and sexual orientations.

Do you think God didn't know they'd be LGBTQ before He created them?

Maybe He IS saddened by those who fall into non-traditional genders. I don't know.

Humans are a broken creation, right down to the cellular level.

And maybe He didn't create His children to be anything other than just male and female, but He has obviously let a continuum of gender unfold.

And I know two things.

God doesn't make mistakes.
AND
God can use our brokenness for His glory.

So step up, church. LGBTQ individuals have a right to be included in the body.***

On that note, I do wish that members of the LGBTQ community would quit hassling churches that choose not to perform non-traditional marriages. Yes, it's illegal and unjust to discriminate against a person by not allowing them into the congregation to be a part of the church community, but I don't think it's discrimination to not offer a service they don't believe in as a body. That's not discrimination; that's just a congregational preference.

You could compare it to dress codes. It's legal to wear pretty much whatever you want, but it's likely against policy to wear flip-flops if you work in a corporate office downtown. That's not discrimination; that's a preference for a certain professional standard that the business has set.

Or compare it to living on campus. My university was a dry campus. Drinking alcohol is legal for anyone over 18, and students were allowed to drink, but not on campus. That's not discrimination; that's an institutional preference.

And one last example, because I need to drive this home: smoking. It's legal to smoke, but I don't allow smoking in my home. I have no issues interacting with, caring about, and having smokers over, but I'm simply not going to allow them to smoke in my house. That's not discrimination; I just value clean air--a personal preference.

So while I believe that the church needs to step up in its acceptance of the LGBTQ community as people worthy of worshipping in the same space, I believe the LGBTQ community needs to step down and respect an individual church body's decision not to provide marriage services outside of the traditional.

But considering all of that, I still don't know where that leaves me in what practices I support (or don't) as an individual.

I work for an organization that advocates for inclusion of people with disabilities. I realized not too long ago that if I'm advocating for inclusion, that means inclusion for ALL. I can't push for the rights of people with disabilities and not the rights of other minorities.

Which is why I'm confident in saying, "hey, church, step up your game and actually be inclusive."

But if--as a Christian--I'm not supposed to not support LGBTQ practices.... what happens if one day I know and care about someone who is LGBTQ and they invite me to their wedding? Could I go, because I love and care about that person, or would I have to make a faith statement and decline the invitation? I don't like thinking about that.

Because I know too much biology and psychology to believe that homosexuality could be a choice.

Sexual orientation and gender are not a choice, any more than eye colour is a choice. And how ridiculous would it be to say to a person, "I love you and care about you, but I can't come to your wedding or honour you and your partner's relationship because your eyes are blue."

And how unjust it feels to say to a person, "I know you can't control how you were born, but you will need to inhibit the desires of how it's made you want to live your life."

It's not like it's a disorder or some psychopathology where their practices and behaviours could hurt themselves and others and do need to change (but where you would still love, accept, and include that person as part of a community, let me be clear). I don't see how loving someone of the same gender, or identifying with the opposite gender is hurtful. I think it's more hurtful to deny who you are.****

I recognize that I speak from a place of 'straight privilege.' Outside of my own cognitive dissonance, this is not my struggle. I would wager that an LGBTQ Christian might read this, shake their head at me, and think, "you can't even possibly know."

But I want to. 

* 1 Cor. 6:9
** Is that a word? It is, now.
*** This guy's been resonating with me a bit lately.

**** But what about STDs and AIDS, Gina? you ask. Well, I'm pretty sure that afflicts a lot of straight people too. I think that has less to do with what gender you lean towards and more about promiscuity, which I do firmly believe is not a good idea, regardless of your sexual orientation.

Can We Quit Losing Our $#!*& Over Holiday Greetings?!

I'm Christian. So I celebrate Christmas. If you ask me for the definition of Christmas, I will tell you that it's a celebration of the day Jesus Christ was born into this world.¹ I will tell you it's an important day for me and other believers, because we believe that Jesus was born into this world as our Lord and Saviour. I believe Jesus is God, born in human form. To a virgin. In a barn. Fully human and fully divine. That's my faith. And so I celebrate Christmas. And therefore often greet others with, "Merry Christmas!"

To be honest, I do wonder a bit at the masses of people who choose to say they celebrate Christmas when they don't believe any part of its definition. I mean, if you don't believe in Jesus, and therefore have no reason to honour his birthday, then why do you say you celebrate Christmas? I do wish people would be accurate in defining the holiday they believe in and celebrate.

But outside of that semantic detail, I actually have no issue with whatever holiday that is.

I'm not offended if you tell me Happy Hannukah.
I'm not offended if you wish me Happy Diwali.
I'm not offended with a Happy Solstice.
Or Happy Kwanzaa.
And I'm not offended if you greet me with Happy Holidays.

A lot of different celebrations happen at this time of year. I don't know the origins of all winter celebrations, but good grief--Jesus' birthday isn't even in December; we just piggy-backed the timing on a pagan solstice holiday that already existed³. So who am I to get all up in your celebrations?!

As near as I can tell, all these winter celebrations are about peace.

All these celebrations embrace light.

All these celebrations encourage giving.

All these celebrations mean joy!

And lastly, all these celebrations come from a practice of love.

So if we⁴ are getting our tinsel in such a tangle over what celebration others are sharing with us, that we can't see the intention behind their greeting, then we've missed the point entirely. And worse, we become hypocrites of our own faith. It IS possible to have a strong faith--live it, breathe it, maybe even preach it--without passing judgement on the faiths of others.

In the office small-talk, in the checkout line at the supermarket, or in the parking lot at the mall, I can't tell, just by looking, what you celebrate, any more than you can tell what I celebrate. That being said, when you wish me Happy Holidays, know that I'm not one of those people who will then try and correct your greeting by explaining what 'one' faith this time of year is 'really' about. December is not the time for theological debate. From me, your greeting can be guaranteed a response of, "thanks, you too!"

And all I ask is the same in return.





1 As supported by the following:
dictionary.com - the festival of the Christian church commemorating the birth of Jesus.
merriam-webster.com - a Christian holiday that is celebrated on December 25 in honor of the birth of Jesus Christ
thefreedictionary.com - A Christian feast commemorating the birth of Jesus.
wikipedia.com - annual commemoration of the birth of Jesus Christ.

2 Which, to be fair, means I should really decorate a palm tree each year, because it would be a more accurate reflection of a true "Christmas" tree. Decorating an evergreen is more in line with celebrating the Solstice.

3 Hear that, fellow Christians? Jesus is not the original reason for the season. He's just the reason for ours.

4 Not 'we' as Christians, but 'we' as society--all faiths are guilty of slamming other faiths at this time of year.

SOTC 133/365

Notre Dame Basilica, Side Right, a photo on Flickr by Gina Blank

SOTC 108/365

"...the sunset, His signature."

-- Unknown

Cameras Don't Bounce

It was in my hands; then it was on the ground.

I couldn't even tell you exactly what happened, it was so quick. I had removed it from around my shoulders so that I could get a low-down shot of a pink-and-yellow tulip I particularly admired (a shot that never worked out, by the way). When I stood up--maybe I stepped on the edge of the dangling strap. Maybe someone else did. Maybe I bumped into something.

The next thing that registers in my brain is the simultaneous whack of camera against concrete, and the crunch of breaking glass. There is a split-second where a few people in the immediate area turn towards the noise, and join my friend and I as we, quite audibly, gasp. In the next split-second, the crowd has assessed the irrelevance of the event to their own lives, and has turned its attention back to previous affairs, while I have scooped the camera up off the ground and am moving to a less crowded area so I can assess the damage.

I turn the camera off and on; it still works. Miraculously--I don't remember doing this--the live-view screen has been folded inwards, so it is completely intact. I gently shake the camera back and forth. It seems there are no rattling pieces inside; a good sign.*

I inspect my 18-135mm IS lens. Certainly not my most expensive, but not my cheapest either. And currently my favourite. The UV filter I place on all my lenses to protect them is completely broken. I carefully remove the few broken bits of glass from around the edges. The metal ring that screws into the lens itself is bent, and therefore jammed. I cannot pry it off the lens, nor can I attach anything to it (other filters, the lens cap). The plastic rim of the lens is chipped in a couple small places. But as I twist the lens to zoom in, out, and take a couple test shots, it looks as if that may be the worst of it.

My camera works. The lens works. Neither are broken (nor likely even compromised, what with a little work once I get home to pry the ring off the lens).

"Oh, my God, thank You!" I literally shout towards the sky.

Suddenly, I am in awe of much more than the tulips I came for in the first place.

* that being said, some tiny part rattled around inside my old dSLR for years without compromising its function.

Why I Don't Want to Know What You're Doing for Lent

I don't keep it a secret on social media (or anywhere) that I am a Christian, but it's not something I explicitly shout from the rooftops, either. So, it's a little strange for me to be posting a very intentionally faith-based read, but it's something that's been bugging me about the Christian community, as a whole, for the last few years.

We all know that this generation of adults tends to carry the mentality of "who needs privacy, anyway?" The internet has not helped this. We will share almost anything on Facebook, Twitter, etc. Even when we recognize that we should probably work to keep some aspects of our lives behind closed doors.

I don't have statistics, but from my experience, Christians are not much better than the rest of the population. We are human, after all. But we are called to a higher standard, and I challenge us to consider that during this upcoming season of Lent.

Several years ago, as part of a small group I attended, we read Richard Foster's book Celebration of Discipline. It took us through several spiritual disciplines, examining their value and how we could be more intentional about practicing each. To be fair, there is much of the content that I don't specifically remember. But I do remember that the conversation around the spiritual discipline of fasting stuck out for me. There is a whole chapter that talks about fasting and how one might go about it, especially if one has never fasted before.

While Richard was referring to food throughout the chapter, the study guide and video encouraged conversation about fasting from other things--media, spending, etc. There was also discussion about Lent as a time of fasting, as we often fast from things other than food during this time.

In the chapter, Richard refers to Matthew 6:1-18 as he writes:

"It should go without saying that you should follow Jesus' counsel to refrain from calling attention to what you are doing. The only ones who should know you are fasting are those who have to know. If you call attention to your fasting, people will be impressed and, as Jesus said, that will be your reward. You, however, are fasting for far greater and deeper rewards."

For example, if we are fasting from sweets, and a colleague brings in a cake, and invites us to share in it, we are to say a simple "no, thank you" or "I'm good, thanks." There is no need to explain ourselves by saying that we can't have cake because we are fasting.

We do the latter with dieting as a subtle (or not so subtle) way to toot our own horns, to show others, see? I can stick with my diet plan, aren't I doing well?

But fasting is not dieting.

We ought not to seek attention for it from others.

Now, that being said, does it mean that we should never tell others about our spiritual practices? I don't think that's true, either. As an example, growing up, our family often shared our chosen Lenten practices with each other. There was one year we even chose practices for each other. This was not so we could draw attention to what we were choosing; we were holding each other accountable as a family. We engaged in conversation about the intention behind the fast, as well as the subsequent spiritual growth.

I think that's totally appropriate.

What I'm not convinced is appropriate is announcing our Lenten practices on Facebook and similar social platforms. Unless all 368 of your Facebook friends are so close to you that they will use that knowledge to hold you accountable and engage you in reflective conversation about your spiritual growth, I think such sharing of information is largely just for attention. Look how good a Christian I am, I'm staying away from X for forty whole days!*

How is that anyone else's business?

"Those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted" (Matt. 23:12). This is one of those countercultural truths we forget again and again. Society gives attention and adoration to those who speak up, share their story. But it is stated more than once in Scripture that these people may have their moment in the spotlight, but it is the humble who will ultimately be exalted.

It is true that I can't actually judge the intention behind other people's sharing. Perhaps sharing your Lenten fast of choice on Facebook really is the only way you will be able to keep accountable to it. There are blogs I've stumbled upon where the author has put out a recommended Lenten practice for others to follow and/or contribute towards.** Perhaps, for some people, sharing and seeing what other Christians are doing is motivating and conducive to spiritual growth.

So I'm not saying there may not be an appropriate place to let others know what you're doing for Lent. What I'm saying is, what is the intention behind the sharing? What are the motives of your heart?

And when we go to ask others, "what are you giving up for Lent?" we also need to consider the reason for asking them to share. Do we know this person well enough that we are asking out of interest for their spiritual well-being? Are we making Christian small-talk? Or are we just starting a conversation so that we have a reason to share what we're doing?

What are our intentions?

So, as a general rule, what you practice during Lent is none of my business. It is between you and Jesus. And maybe an accountability partner--whose role is not to just give you a pat on the back when you're abstaining from whatever it is, but who challenges you on the days when it's tough. And continues to do so far after Lent has ended.

When someone asks, "so, what are you doing for Lent?" telling them is actually the easy answer. I think it's far more difficult--but far more necessary--to respond, "I know you're curious, but I'm keeping Lent between Jesus and myself this year."

Thanks for your understanding.






* Also to keep in mind, as an adult, Lent should not JUST be a simple giving up of something--it needs to be more.
** This practice even intrigues me, though not the sharing part.

Communion (SOTC 80/365)

com·mu·nion (n): a close relationship with someone or something;  an act or instance of sharing;  intimate fellowship or rapport.

I was not even planning on being at church today. I was supposed to be shooting some family photos for a friend. They must cancel at the last minute; I switch gears back to my typical Sunday morning routine. I soon find myself ready for church with plenty of time to spare. And the sun is shining. And the sky is so blue. And it's +3C outside. So I grab my camera and head for one of my favourite spots to capture the sunny Edmonton skyline behind the snow-covered River Valley. I know from experience that this view of downtown is best in the mornings.

Alas, I overestimated the winter sunshine. The buildings were perfectly alight, while the snow-blanketed foreground was still asleep in the dark shadow of the hill behind me. over which the sun had not yet risen. Apparently, this view is best in the mornings that are not within a week of the winter solstice.

Nevertheless, the school where our church meets also backs onto field in pretty much every direction. A morning winter landscape was not out of the question just yet.

By the time I parked in the church (school) parking lot, it was 10:22. Communion would start at 10:30. After a bit of internal wrestling between my punctual left brain and my creative right brain, I gave myself permission to explore the area until as late as 11:00, which is when the church service actually started. It is often the case that I find myself humbled by some aspect of a nature landscape; the photography simply becomes an extension of worship.

This morning, I was caught by the way the sun was shining behind the elm trees, and after a few minutes, ended up with this picture.

There is fellowship I feel when I am out taking photos in God's creation.
There is an intimate joining of two* to create something new.
There is Light that overtakes shadow.
Communion.





* Look closely. There are actually two trees in this image.

Shaft of Light OR SOTC 71/365

"Thank you, Father, for the beautiful surprises you are planning for me today. So often in my life ... an unexpected burst of ... sunshine has exploded through a black cloud, sending inspiring shafts of warm, beautiful sunshine into my life." 

-- Robert Schuller

May I Always Be Broken

"Remember how God poured His divinity into humanity in the form of a tiny, helpless baby. Don't consider yourself above Him by thinking that the sky is the limit and if you just had more time/energy/talent, you can get there one day.

The sky is only the limit if you are an airplane. If you are human, your feet will nearly always be planted firmly on the ground. That is where they must be for you to do the kind of work that keeps you touchable, broken, but somehow at the same time, unbreakable."

-- Emily Freeman (Read the full blog post here.)

A Year to Create

How is it that another year is reaching its end, a new one ready to enter in? While each year feels like it passes so quickly, I know that there have been twelve months, just like every other year. Fifty-two weeks of work, play, smiles, tears, adventures and routines.

And opportunities to create.

Create was a word I chose to intentionally consider as I entered and moved through 2012. Not so coincidentally, I believe, opportunities opened up this year to flex my creative muscle in many ways.

In relationships...

I have taken on new roles at work that have me fostering collaborative relationships with educators and caregivers. I am part of a project to build capacity in child care centres to run more inclusive classrooms, and enhance the social and emotional development of the children in their care. New relationships have been created with staff at each of the centres I have become involved with. The project grant we are operating on is for three years. It is exciting to know that I will be growing along with the people at these sites as we create even better environments for young children.

In other areas, I had a chance to re-create relationship with family this past summer. I've also re-created some of the way I do relationship with my friends--old, new, near and far. And, I've created a new sort of relationship with my younger brother, as we live under the same roof again for the first time in fifteen years.

At home...

Oh, how I continue to love my home! Especially in the summer! I continued to work towards setting up  and creating my back yard just the way I want it. Someone once told me it takes roughly 25 years for a person to landscape their yard space to perfection. I'm not entirely sure I will be in this house that long (though, it's not entirely out of realm of possibility), but I really hope it doesn't take me that long to create the perfect space. I'm aiming for somewhere in the next five years--that would be nice.

I set up the hammock this summer, creating a peaceful space to enjoy a book or a nap in the sunshine. I planted a couple new things in the garden this summer, offering a space for God to create His wonderful edibles. I also rustled up all my bulbs at the end of this season, creating a new floral landscape along the side of my house that I hope comes to fruition (florition?) next spring. Only time will tell.

I am looking forward to another summer in the hammock, in the garden, and in the dirt. It is really His creation, not mine; but I love that He lets me muck around a little. :)

Behind the lens...

Ohmygoodness, where do I even start? I have had such fun with my photography this year. I continued to create fun shots with my 365 project, and finished it up at the end of July. I have--s l  o   w    l     y--been working through a second project. It was meant to be a one-a-day kind of thing, but I quickly realized that the quick pace was kaiboshing the creative process, so I have slowed it down. It's not easy to create, some days.

In the spring, I took part in an international photography project, resulting in one of my photos being published in a book! Mine was one of 1,000 (out of 100,000 total) to be selected for the book. I felt very honoured to have been recognized this way.

I also managed to have one of my photos published in a local calendar, which was exciting.

Finally, I have been putting my toe into the artisan market a little bit. I had my art in the gallery at last year's art exhibit in Lacombe. Nothing sold, but it was neat to see my work amidst that of other artists... and to not seem like my work was out of place!

I took the canvas-printed photos to work shortly thereafter, and sold several to colleagues; that was a surprise! I also participated in an On-the-Spot pop-up craft sale, selling several photo greeting cards to passersby. I'm hoping to take in more of the pop-up scene in 2013. On the whole, my photography is in the hole, financially speaking. But sometimes just the richness of the experience is valuable, too. While I am hoping my photography will put me back in the black this coming year, I'm not out there to make a career out of this. I never have been. I enjoy taking photos purely for taking photos. When I have to start thinking about customer demands and quantities for larger markets, I fear the creativity will be lost. Photography will have become an obligation, not a passion. Being able to sell my works is really just a tangible affirmation of my skill. It is nice, but not necessary, to know that what I'm creating is beautiful.

So.

Much has been created.

Thank You, Creator, for making me in Your image, that I might create in this world, as well. May everything I create be for Your glory, in Your joy, and bring Your peace. Amen.

Way, Truth, Life OR SOTC 36/365

What Does it Mean?

Every now and then, I glance back at old journal entries. I often see areas where God answered prayer; sometimes dramatically. I see how my thoughts and feelings have grown and/or evolved. I chuckle at things like being worried about a psych test. And then--and this is what gets me--I see some of the same old problems.

I read about feelings I am processing and/or still struggle with 5, 10, 15 years later. I could cut and paste the entries and slap the today's date on the top, and it would still be relevant and accurate and true.

Same crap, different pile, it seems.

It makes me wonder...

We talk so much about how we can grow, change, improve as people. We are encouraged to recognize the parts of our character that challenge us, cause us struggle--our weaknesses--and invest time, energy, prayer, and counselling into changing them. We are to learn from the negative experiences they cause, using our awareness to come up with strategies lessen their impact or power on us in the future.

And then...

They still show up.

I was chatting with a friend about how--similarly--the struggles experienced by married couples are often struggles they experienced while dating. The issue doesn't really seem to go away--it just seems to be the issue we've decided to accept "till death do us part."

So what does this all mean?

Are we not dealing right?

Processing right?

Praying "right"?

(....I SWEAR I brought that issue to the cross already. Twice. Does it mean I didn't leave it there?)

Are we not as able to change some parts of ourselves as we think we are/should be?

How do we know if a weakness is a way Satan plants seeds of insecurity in our hearts or a way God plants seeds of humility?

Can we truly accept ourselves if we know we can't change? Or do we only "accept" ourselves on the belief that we will grow and move beyond our weakness(es)?

So many more questions than answers...

Leaf on My Shoulder OR SOTC 31/365

It is well-known that summer is my favourite season. All that green, all that life, all that sunshine, all that warmth!

Still, there is beauty in every season. I have always known this, but I find my awareness of this truth heightened in the last year or so. Perhaps it comes with age. Or perhaps because, as a home owner, each season means something different for my space. Or perhaps because I'm taking more pictures. Whatever the reason, this past year, I have really noticed the seasons more, and have been trying to embrace the beauty that they bring. Still, knowing a truth, and believing it are sometimes two different things. For example, you could not have convinced me two winters ago that winter was beautiful. Aside from the bajillion inches of snowfall and lack of sunshine, there was too much going on in my own life to be happy about most of that winter. As another example, several years ago, as I was still fresh dealing with separation from my husband, autumn didn't even register.

I think the beauty we see in the seasons is heavily impacted by what else is going on in our lives. And I think, in part, it might be one of the reasons God imparted a planet in the universe that rotates around the sun such that seasons exist. Spring, summer, autumn, winter. Spring, summer, autumn, winter. Regardless of what else is going on, these seasons happen. Spring, summer, autumn, winter. They may each look a little different from year to year, but the seasons are a constant in a world that constantly changes, in circumstances that are different from one moment to the next.

I mean, how awful would it be if the soft cherry blossoms of spring--or juicy summer berries, or the rich colours of autumn, or pristine fields of winter white--only occurred once, and it was during a challenging time of your life, and you missed it?

I think my sense of hope would dwindle.

I do think that God wants us to marvel in the beauty of each season every year, regardless of our own personal lives. The whole of creation is for His glory--we should always be acknowledging and praising that! And yet, paradoxically, I think God recognizes our brokenness. Our own human nature often gets in the way of recognizing the blessing of creation that He has given us. And so, He repeats these seasons, knowing that we may miss the amazing beauty here and there, and mercifully giving us the next season as an opportunity to praise.

...There is a leaf on my shoulder in this photograph. I didn't notice it until I uploaded the photo onto my computer. And I suppose I could have Photoshopped it out, but the leaf is evidence of leaves raked, rolled in, and tossed. I am enjoying the autumn colours, the autumn sunshine, soaking up His creation by rolling around in it a little. :)

I have a leaf on my shoulder.

Way better than a chip, I'd say.

Autumn Rich

It is five hours from Edmonton to Saskatoon, give or take pit stops. Generally, I stop once in the halfway point of Lloydminster to top up on gas, grab a sub sandwich for supper, and that is it. I have no time to waste--on the way there, I have love and cuteness waiting for me. On the way back, I want to have a few hours to chill before hitting the sack and starting the work week over again. I have never been one to waste time; and I sure as heck am not going to do so on a long, flat, prairie highway.

This drive was different.

It included a few extra stops. On purpose. And it was absolutely lovely.

I was grumbly leaving the city. I had decided to take a coworker home who would otherwise be at the mercy of public transit on a Friday afternoon. She lived right off the main freeway that I would be using to leave town; no big deal. However, in the ten extra minutes it took to drop her off, and stop off at the neighbouring library to quickly grab an audiobook (I had forgotten to load podcasts onto my phone), I hit rush hour, and was about half an hour behind by the time I got to the outskirts of E-town. Unimpressed.

Really, Lord? I do the unselfish thing, and You reward my efforts with traffic?

(Yes, I know it doesn't work quite like that, but in the moment...... and you know you've been there, too.)

I knew I wanted to make a brief extra pitstop for sunset pics, and I knew where I wanted to take those pics, and now I was going to be pushing it to get there in time. The sun drops fast, and I have learned time and time again that you can't chase a sunset.

There was construction in Lloyd and a line up at Subway, delaying my grab-and-go efforts. I just barely made it in time to the granary I had been planning for my pictures. I captured the granary in the warm orange sun, and then spied a country road leading right into the rich glow of the horizon. It afforded several pictures, including a few with a country truck puttering home from the fields. The sun dipped down a bit more, and the moment was over. I had been hoping to get a silhouette of the granary, but still--in the quiet of this rural community, I crossed the tracks back to my car, satisfied. The rush-rush feeling I'd had up to this point was gone, and I hadn't missed the colours.

Thank You.

On Sunday afternoon, I enjoyed a leisurely walk with my eldest niece along the trails lining the South Saskatchewan river. As I was taking in the fall colours--both in and out of the camera--I decided it would be nice to make a couple extra stops on the drive home and see what became of it.

Well, stops aside, the drive home was something else.

As I started west, flock after flock of birds made their way south overhead; rippling black lines of motion across the clear, blue sky. Something in the air had given these creatures the cue that this was the weekend to rise up from their lake homes and start the journey to a warm winter. But such a gentle sight.

I stopped in the Battlefords, at the top of a hill overlooking the valley. I've always driven past the turnoff, wondering what was down the road of this hill. Peace and loveliness; that's what.

Shrubs and grasses--a mix of green, yellow, brown, orange, red--speckled the hill all the way down to the valley where the North Saskatchewan River flows. The waters of this river are the same as those that passed by my own house in Edmonton just a day or two before, and it brings an odd feeling of connection.

The sun is warm. Close your eyes and you wouldn't actually know it's autumn--I should have worn flip flops today. I traipse down the trail a bit. It smells of late summer--crisping leaves and warm grass. The sound of traffic fades away fast, and all I hear are a few grasshoppers above the mild din of the hidden freeway. I snap a few pictures, but mostly I just want to stand and take it all in. It's so warm, and quiet, and lovely.

After breathing deep, and scanning the 180 degree view one more time, I make my way back to my car for the next leg of my prairie trip home.

By the time I pass Lloydminster, the sun has started an obvious descent over Alberta. There is a slight haze in the air--from experience, I know it's probably forest fire haze, though it doesn't smell like it yet. But through my sunglasses, it gives everything a warm, reddish hue as I drive. I have continued to watch flocks of birds moving south and west through the sky. In a rolling field to my right, I see two horses galloping swiftly along; in the dips of the hills, there are patches of fog settling.

I spy a small body of water and turn in--I need to be able to stand in the presence of all of this, pictures or not! As I move around the back of my car, I spy something in the water. A beaver, and I don't even think he's fully grown. I watch him a minute--his cute little face even looking in my direction--but as soon as I move to open the trunk, he swooshes down into the water--gone.

I focus on my sunset, watching three or four little beavers swimming lazily in the water as I move back and forth along the side of the road. It is significantly cooler now--a mere three hours later, and I almost need my jacket. The sun has disappeared behind the trees, and the sky has changed from yellow to orange to pink to purple in less than 15 minutes. I stand for a moment, and breathe deep again. It smells crisp and clear, and just a touch like dew.

When I am overwhelmed with God's rich glories, I find myself using the words 'humbled' and 'awash in awe' together.

Yup.

That would be this weekend; most especially my journey home. What had I been grumbling about on Friday? I have almost forgotten in all the blessing.

I return to my car and drive, wrapped in the peace and beauty of the Creator.

Amen.

SOTC 23/365

Today was rich in colour, and I managed to capture quite a bit of it photographically. I am a bit humbled and in awe of the Amazing Creator and what he chose to show me of His Creation today.

I captured another lovely sunset, and originally wanted to post that for today. That being said, I have posted two sunsets in less than a week, so thought I should mix it up a bit.

There are fall colours all around, but my friend's garden is clearly reminiscent of summer, taking advantage of the warm days still upon us.

Hands That Flung Stars Into Space?

I am often floored by God's creation. I stand at the edge of my garden in the spring, watching tulip buds poke their way through the ground--again!--after a long, winter sleep. I stand at the edge of the ocean, listening to the undulating crash against the shore. I stand at the summit of a mountain, the rocky view going on forever. And I am filled with words of praise like 'awesome', 'peaceful', 'glorious', 'lovely', 'expansive', 'refreshing', 'humbling'. Words that try to--but still don't quite--speak to the superlative nature of the Creator and the fact that he has chosen to bless my senses.

Such is the same when I find myself outside of the city, looking up at the night sky. There are SO many stars! Some are so far away that they have already burned up by the time the light has traveled far enough that I can see them. And yet, I see them. The sky is so vast, and the stars are so many. I feel like such a small part of the universe; and yet, not in a bad way. More like, I am a very small part of this universe, but obviously an important part if God chose to create me amongst the whole of His creation around me. The whole thing just blows the mind.

Last night, I had my first opportunity to see and photograph a meteor shower. The Perseid Meteor Shower is an annual event, though this is the first I recall hearing of it (or perhaps I've just never been in a position to check it out, so I've never paid attention).

I drove out to the quiet of the Cooking Lake-Blackfoot Provincial Recreation Area, about 45 minutes east of the city. There were a few other star-gazers watching from the hoods of their cars in the gravel parking lot, and one couple who had set up camping chairs about 15 feet from where I set up my camera in the adjacent field space.


While I only managed to capture three meteors across my camera sensor, I saw at least a dozen in the three hours I was there.* Short and long bursts of high-speed light, moving every direction across the sky. And we have been given this light show every year for the last 2,000 years.

Sitting under the infinite sparkle of the sky, I was reminded of something I read years ago. In her book Believing God, Beth Moore talks about God's simultaneous ability for order and creativity. She says,

G.K. Chesterton wrote of a God who "is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, 'Do it again' to the sun; and every evening, 'Do it again' to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old." 

Ours is a God who delights in a perfect concoction of creativity and order. Though He could have thought out the entire cosmos into existence in a millisecond, instead He brought it about with great patience in six distinct increments. 

Then rested on the seventh. 

Then later insisted that His children do the same. 

God likes order. He likes repetition. A God of fundamentals, He brings up the sun every morning and the moon every evening, but His creativity within that order is gorgeously displayed in the changing sunsets and sunrises surrounding them.

In reflecting upon this--the repetitive nature of this astronomical event, as well as just the multitude of stars above me--I found myself curious. I found myself wondering: when God was creating the stars, did He place them around the universe one by one, setting each one just so? Or did He hold them like a handful of sand and toss them out all at once?

I'm not sure why that--of all the possible ponderings I could possibly have during an evening of star-gazing--was the question I had, but it was.

And the answer was, I don't know.

And I'm okay that it's I don't know. (I'll find out one day!)

What I KNOW--and am so blessed to know--is that there is an amazing Artist, who can create a million of the same thing, and yet have each one be unique. Who plays with the entire colour spectrum--sometimes one colour at a time, and sometimes all at once. Who bends and moves light. Who blesses the senses.

And all we have to do is sit, take it in, and know.



* That may not seem like many, but think about it--how often do you see even ONE shooting star? Exactly.

Fairness and Sameness

Traveling with a family with a child with special needs is a unique experience. My friends are veterans at modifying activities and schedules to accommodate each of their three children, including the eldest, eleven, who has a complex disability.

The language of special needs and inclusion is everyday in their household. The other two little ones (currently seven and four) have been able to pronounce their sister's five-syllable diagnosis since they were two.

Earlier this week, we visited Qualicum Falls as part of the day's activities. We discussed which adults would go with which children, because wheelchair accessibility only went so far down the trail.

I was one of the adults that went with my younger niece and nephew down the winding, stairs-and-hills trail to the falls. At one point, my nephew stated, "dis is not really uh-sess-ible* for P." We had a brief discussion about how it's really hard to make nature fully accessible because in nature, things just grow where they grow, and rocks and things just are where they are. At this point, the conversation ended for the 4-yr-old, but it still had me thinking a bit.

We try very hard where I work to encourage and implement universal design, so that communities, schools, playgrounds, and education are accessible for all individuals. Every stair case has a ramp or elevator near by; every book has a Braille or audio version available in the same library; every classroom is laid out and supplied to meet the unique learning styles of all its students.

Obviously, this is easier said than done sometimes. But on the whole, I generally think we're getting better.

And then there's nature.

The conversation with my nephew made me consider the idea that universal design and Universal Design might not necessarily be the same thing. The magnificent Creator--the Universal Designer--has blessed us with mountains, valleys, white sands, rocky beaches, a myriad of life on land and in the waters. Tall trees and low-lying shrubs. Calm winding creeks and rushing waterfalls. He has created it all for His glory. And yet, clearly, not everyone can access even such simple things as waterfalls and hiking trails

Would He really create a world that was not accessible to everyone who passed by?!

I stand at the edge of the trail, atop the gorge where, at the opposite end, a waterfall crashes. It's not a very big waterfall, but it is still mesmerizing to watch and oddly soothing to listen to. My niece in her wheelchair is maybe 500m away, down a 'lesser' trail, unable to take in any of it. And she's not the only one, I'm sure.

How is that fair?!

And then something my mother used to say to my brother and I echoed in my head:

"'Fair' does not always mean 'the same.'"

Sorry?

"'Fair' does not always mean 'the same.'"

My mother used to remind us of this when one of us would exhibit envy over the other's invitation to a birthday party, or one-on-one time with a parent, or something like that. We were two very different people, and so we engaged in different activities and were shown love and care in different ways sometimes.

And in effect, universal design operates similarly. It's fair, but not necessarily the same. A child with a visual impairment may need to listen to a book on CD, while the other has a hard copy with pictures. And yet, I would never say that the audio version is the 'lesser' book (in fact, if it is well narrated, it may have an advantage over a book that a child reads inside his/her head). Fair does not always mean the same.

So why did it bug me in regards to the waterfalls?

Because I don't see the same outcome.

The child who listens to an audio book and the child who reads her own copy both still end up experiencing the same story. By the end, they both know that the Hungry Caterpillar ate a lot of food one week and turned into a butterfly. They both know that Harry gets the Philosopher's Stone before Voldemort does. They both know that Romeo and Juliet kill themselves to be together.

But P doesn't know the waterfall that I know. So she didn't see the falls--OK. But she couldn't even really hear them from where she was. Totally not the same outcome.

But fair does not always mean the same.


Not the same means, but certainly it should mean the same end?


Fair does not always mean the same.


I don't understand.


She should be able to see the falls. She should be able to hold the starfish at the beach. These are relatively simple, yet meaningful, things.


Meaningful to her or to you?


Well, there's that. But certainly there is someone, somewhere, in a wheelchair, who can't see the falls and wanted to.


...Fair does not always mean the same.

I still don't understand. I don't understand why You would paint a glorious sunset that not everyone passing by the beach that evening would be able to see. I don't understand why you would reveal the knotted roots of a massive fallen tree that not everyone walking by could leave the trail to touch.

But I do have peace knowing that, while experiences of God's creation may not be the same, they are fair.

That is good enough for now.

*accessible

Of Rain Barrels and the Holy Spirit

My house came with a rain barrel. I had long before decided that once I became a home-owner, I would invest in a rain barrel, so I was delighted so see someone shared my value of collecting rainwater. I much prefer to water my garden and plants by filling the watering can from the rain barrel than using a hose. In part, because it saves me $$ on the water bill. But also, because it's a more eco-friendly option. It always unsettles me a little bit to water my garden, flowers, or--worst off all--the lawn, with drinking water, when there are people on the other side of the world dying from lack of fresh water (that being said, I fully recognize that I am too entrenched in my first-world lifestyle to let my lawn go completely brown or allow my garden to suffer if it hasn't rained enough).

Last year, Edmonton saw a lot of rain (after a winter of also having seen a lot of snow). I never bought a sprinkler. Every time I used rain barrel water on the garden, it was filled up again in a few days with the next rain fall. It was somewhere around late-August where I think I--only once--had to water the garden with the hose to get it through its last few weeks, because the rain barrel was finally near empty.

This year's been a bit of a different story. I bought the sprinkler. And more hose. I still use the rain barrel first, but I have emptied it four or five times to keep my thirsty plants green and growing. I have also, therefore, soaked the garden with the hose four or five times, as I wait for more rain to come. And there has been rain. But usually only for a brief period in the late afternoon or early evening. And not every day. And not usually enough to counterbalance the hot, dry, sun.*

This evening is currently seeing a wonderful downpour.

Depending on how long into the night it continues, it may even fill up the barrel. Last year, I would stare out my kitchen window, thinking there was no way my lawn and garden could keep up with the amount of water its roots were being asked to absorb. This year, I stare out the kitchen window, begging my garden to drink deep. Because you are parched and I don't want to water you if I don't have to.

Sometimes, as I've been staring out the window, I've also reflected on the analogy of the Holy Spirit as water.

It's one of my favourite analogies. The Holy Spirit has been described like a rushing wind, cleansing fire, and refreshing rain (amongst other things). I particularly like the rain analogy, I think because I can relate to the sense of dirt and grime being washed away, the refreshing smell, the softness of once-dry, cracked land, and the absence of thirst after a good rain.

Sometimes we describe ourselves in relation to this analogy of the Holy Spirt. We thirst for God's presence, power, love (and He responds, "All who are thirsty, come..."**) We go through what we call spiritual dry spells. We need to be washed clean from our sin. 

But if the Holy Spirit pours down like rain, what happens in those times when our rain barrel starts to go empty? I don't trust our prairie's meteorological history to wait out the dry heat until the next rainfall. I will make rain on my own. But what about my faith? Do I trust God's relational history to wait out the desert period, or do I try to make rain on my own?

Except, the rain I make costs me.

And the rain I make doesn't always feel like the right thing to do.

And the rain I make doesn't always water as thoroughly.

Hmm.
Not a perfect analogy, I'm sure.
But something I continue to think about.

Especially when it finally rains.

*I am by no means dissing the sun. The sun is amazing. I will take a sunny summer over a rainy one any day. I am merely stating meteorological fact.

** Revelation 22:17. See also John 4:12-14

208/365

"And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered." -- Matt. 10:29