im back...

Here I am back in Winchester,

back home
back to being with my family
back to living on the farm and having a dog
back to having my mom fold my laundry into perfect squares
back to my dad's lame jokes - "why did the girl run around her bed? to catch up on her sleep!"
back to being around Senator fans. *shudder* honestly i don't think they get any worse.
back to being a big and little sister
back to waking up with my mom singing me a song in the morning
back to dial up internet
back to eating steak
back to living in a clean house and kitchen, and a dishwasher - heavenly
back to being able to drive
back to going to bed at an earthly hour - kinda.

It's been wonderful to be home, I have been keeping pretty busy with catching up with my family, friends, and sleep. On Thursday night we went to my sister's high school play. It was pretty neat, although it was long, 3 hours long. It was based on the "Voyage of the Dawn Treader" by CS Lewis. It made me wish that they had plays when I was in high school. If I was only given the chance I probably could have been a Holleywood star by now. I have always been told I have a flair for the dramatic and that the Olsen Twins have nothing on me.

And I cut my hair, quite a bit of hair - tear. I don't like it at all. The next time I suggest that I cut my hair in any drastic fashion, snuff that idea and remind me that I always regret it. No the fifth time is not the charm... Oh, well, good thing hair grows back.

YES! New Jersey just scored in 2 OT to beat the Senators. My whole family are Sens fans, except I am the only one still up watching the game. I don't know what to attribute it to, my extreme dislike for the Senators and the joy I get from seeing them loose, or the fact that I just love watching playoff hockey. It's probably both.

As much as I do love being home, it has been a huge ajustment. I miss being able to have everyone just chat away, I miss the randomness, I miss the late night talks, I miss the constant activity, I miss the good times, and I don't know what I'm going to do with myself tomorrow without you guys to have lunch with. I miss you, I miss "it" and I can't wait to be back.

good bye

Am I allowed to swear on here? Cause if I am, I would, and I would use it in the context of describing good-byes. Today we are leaving, parting ways for a couple of months...
Man alive, I am going to miss all of you.
These past days have been completely wonderful and bittersweet, making the best of the moments.

It's the moments that make the memories, not what your doing but who you are doing it with.
Thanks for all the moments, I treasure you all.

the courage to change

Play - Pause - Stop - Record - Rewind - Fast Forward.

6 different options on the remote control. As I hold the remote in the palm of my hand, I can't help but wish that I could have one of these for my life. I feel like my life is stuck in fast forward and all I want to do is press a Pause button and freeze frame it.

Life is always changing. Call me a prude, call me boring, call me unadventurous, but I HATE change. Yes, I know I am using the word 'hate' and that it has strong connotations, I use it deliberately. I hate the fact that I have two places where I live, I hate the fact that I have to leave people that I love twice a year to be with the others that I love. I hate the fact that because I leave people, I have to constantly miss people. I hate the fact that I don't know where I am going to be in 5 years. I hate the fact that relationships always change. I hate that change usually means good-bye.

Alright, I think I have made that point clear.

Last week I was having this discussion with Tamille in her room, while laying on her Buzz Light Year comforter. She didn't say too much to try and convince me that change is not as bad as I think it is. Instead she just pulled out this chapter from Don Miller. (I am selecting the bits and pieces that struck me the most, but I encourage you to read it all. It's from his book 'Through Painted Deserts: Light, God, and Beauty on the Open Road')

It is fall here now, my favorite of the four seasons. We get all four here, and they come at us under the doors, in through the windows. One morning you wake and need blankets; you take the fan out of the window to see clouds that mist out by midmorning, only to reveal a naked blue coolness like God yawning.

I could not have known then that everybody, every person, has to leave, has to change like seasons; they have to or they die. These seasons remind me that I must keep changing, and I want to change because it is God's way. All my life I have been changing. I changed from a baby to a child, from soft toys to play daggers. I changed into a teenager to drive a car, into a worker to spend some money. I will change into a husband to love a woman, into a father to love a child, change houses so we are near water, and again so we are near mountains, and again so we are near friends, keep changing with my wife, getting our love so it dies and gets born again and again, like a garden, fed by four seasons, a cycle of change. Everybody has to change, or they expire, everybody has to leave, everybody has to leave their home and come back again so they can love it again for the first time, and for all new reasons.

I want to keep my soul fertile for the changes, so things keep getting born in me, so things keep dying when it is time for things to die. I want to keep walking away from the person I was a moment ago, because a mind was made to figure things out, not to read one page again and again.

The only good stories have the characters different at the end than they were at the beginning. And the closest thing I can liken life to is a book, the way it stretches out on paper, page after page, as if to trick the mind into thinking it isn't all happening at once.

Time has pressed you and I into a book, too, this tiny chapter we share together, this vapor of a scene, pulling our seconds into minutes and minutes into hours. Everything we were is no more, and what we will become, will become what was. This is from where story stems; the stuff of its construction lying at our feet like cut strips of philosophy. I sometimes look into the endless heavens, the cosmos of which we can't find the edge, and ask God what it means. Did you really do all of this to dazzle us? Do you really keep shifting, rolling round the pinions to stave off boredom? God forbid your glory would be our distraction. And God forbid we would ignore your glory

Here is something I found to be true: You don't start processing death until you turn thirty. I live in visions, for instance, and they are cast out some fifty years, and just now, just last year I realized my visions were too far out, that they were cast beyond my lifespan. It frightened me to think of it, that I passed up an early marriage or children to write these silly books, that I bought the lie the academic life had to be separate from relational experience, as though God only wanted us to learn cognitive ideas, as if the heart of a man were only created so he could resonate with movies. No, life cannot be understood flat on a page, it has to be lived, a person has to get out of their head, has to fall in love, has to memorize poems, has to jump off bridges into rivers, has to stand in an empty desert and whisper sonnets under his breath:

"I'll tell you how the sun rose. A ribbon at a time..."

It's a living book, this life, it folds out in a million settings, cast with a billion beautiful characters, and it is almost over for you. It doesn't matter how old you are, it is coming to a close quick, and soon the credits will roll and all your friends will fold out of your funeral and drive back to their homes in cold and still silence. And they will make a fire and pour wine and think about how you once were, and feel a kind of sickness at the idea you never again will be. So soon you will be in that point of the book where you are holding the bulk of the pages in your left hand, and only a thin wisp of the story in your right. You will know by the page count, not by the narrative, that the author is wrapping things up. You begin to mourn its ending, and want to pace yourself slowly towards its closure, knowing that the last lines will speak of something beautiful, of the end of something long and earned, and you hope the thing closes out like last breaths, like whispers about how much and who the characters have come to love, and how authentic the sentiments feel when they have earned a hundred pages of qualifications.

And so my prayer is that your story will have involved some leaving and some coming home, some summer and some winter, some roses blooming out like children in play. My hope is your story will be about changing, about getting something beautiful born inside of you, about learning to love a woman or a man, about learning to love a child, about moving yourself around water, around mountains, around friends, about learning to love other more than we love ourselves, about learning oneness as a way of understanding God.

We get one story, you and I and one story alone. God has established the elements, the setting and the climax and the resolution. It would be a crime not to venture out, wouldn't it? It might be time for you to go.

It might be time to change, to shine out.

I want to repeat one word for you:

Leave.

Roll the word around on your tongue for a bit. It is a beautiful word, isn't it? So strong and forceful, the way you have always wanted to be. And you will not be alone. You have never been alone. Don't worry, everything will still be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed.

About the part of only choosing selections... I found that I couldn't leave anything out. It's a pretty challenging message eh? Not very comforting though. My attempt to describe it would be as frightenly beautiful.

I know that change is inevitable and I don't think I would even want to get rid of it, for it is the very fabric of life. What I am beginning to realise is that is takes a lot of courage to change, it is daunting to release what is familiar and secure and embrace the new. But you know what? I don't think I am willing to give up a life of meaning for a life of security, to give up the movement of life, and the power that comes with it.

So maybe I don't particularly hate change... but is it okay that I am still scared of it?

I just pray that someday I will be courageous enough to completely trust my Father, so that in turn I will be given courage to change.

*Listen to 'Every Little Thing' by Delirious

the newspaper does not get delivered

If you have been a faithful reader of my blog for the past year, you would know that I think that the Pickels comic is priceless. I admit, not all of them are 'laugh until your side splits' funny, but I love the characters, the subtle humor, and then the occasional one that makes me chuckel for days to come when I reflect back on it.
Also, who says that comics need to be funny anyways? (exception "For Better or For Worse" - boring snoring)
Since they daily paper is not delivered to the dorms anymore, I sadly miss out on a daily randition of Pickels (along with my Word Jumble, but that is a completely different situation that I might blog about some other time when I feel uninspired to write anything else). The lack of a daily newspaper means that I am forced to look up the comic on the internet sight. I am ashamed to admit I am not a true avid fan, for I only check it weekly.
Wow... I went on a complete tangent, so now I am actually going to write about what I mean to.

This Sunday's Pickels Comic:







Ok. So not THAT funny...

Do you ever catch yourself repeating the proverbs sayings that your parents or grandparents always would say? Just today, when I was just sitting at the table in the dorm staring into space, I snapped out of my daydreaming by saying, "Well, this won't buy the baby a dress, or pay for the one she is wearing."

--- Robyn looks at me as if I had gone nutso. ---

Nope, not nutso, just a slip from my childhood. My mom would always say this after tea time and it was time for chores, or when she was reading a good book and needed to fold laundry.

This got me thinking about all the little proverbs and sayings we had around the house... mostly from my dad concerning the weather - when I was little I was convinced that he was 'Weather Man.'

I love these sayings, they are so neat. Neato.

Now, all I have to say is that "a cold April chill the barn will fill" better be true. I am sick of this cold weather and there had better be an explanation for this, but if it ensures the filling of the barn I am ok with that.

It just that I don't think the saying about "April showers bring May flowers" accounted for the snow day that Winchester had the other day.

What do April snows bring?? We have yet to see, maybe Ill make a clever saying for it. What rhymes with snow...?

Today's Pickels Comic:








Baahahah! Too good, too funny; this one is a keeper!

Maybe Ill attribute this to the fact that my brain is exhausted and anything is funny right now so that you don't think my taste in humour is completely lame. So now I am going to go to bed and stop staying up into the wee hours.

the greatest climber in the world

My childhood summers were always full of adventure and this episode was not an exception. On this particular morning I had watched a television show on TVO kids which introduced mountain climbing. That was all that it took to convince my brimming spirit that it was my destiny to become the greatest climber in the world.

Now the first thing was getting the right equipment. They stressed that on the show... understandable I guess. There was only one problem, the only funds that I had were stashed away in my glass peanut butter bear jar. I had to find another way; I headed towards the play room. The belt from my dolls play swing was a perfect fit for the harness, the yarn from my mom’s sewing drawer became the rope, and of course for extra safety measures I wore the blue Toronto Maple Leafs plastic hockey helmet.

It was then time to choose the mountain that I would conquer. Since I do live in Eastern Ontario, where the only mountains are the occasional lumps in the road, I was forced to look elsewhere - I chose the biggest of the pine trees in my backyard. I tied one end of the yarn to my makeshift harness and started to climb the tree with ease in order to tie the remaining end to the top branch. Once at the top, feeling quite proud and excited, I decided it was time to repel down this mountain side. Mountain climbing is a synch, I was well on my way to becoming an expert. So I started to slowly repel down the side of the trunk, imitating the way they did it on the television, having complete trust in my homemade apparatus of yarn and doll’s swing belt. Complete trust…

I would love to say that yarn is a great substitute for rope and that a harness can be easy replaced by a buckle of cheap plastic, but unfortunately I can’t. First the yarn started to fray, and then quickly snapped. I began to quickly and uncontrollably fall towards the ground. Luckily, humans have a natural instinct to survive. I did the only thing that came to mind and grabbed a hold of the trunk, hugging it as tight as I could. The friction of my body against bark, hitting every branch, and knocking off every pinecone, slowed the plummet towards the ground. Believe it or not, I did not die, but my dream of becoming the world’s greatest mountain climber did.

Although this episode contributed to my fear of heights, it did not have a lasting effect on the person I have become today, nor does it plague my life with an unforgettable lesson. However, this story is can be seen as a metaphor on how I have learnt my lessons throughout my life, the hard way. “Experience is the hardest teacher, because it gives the test first and the lesson afterwards.” I have always learnt through experience and still do today. I was mostly likely a frustrating child, if my parents would tell me “no” it would generally just entice me to try it and find out the consequences.

Whether this is a good thing or not, I have hardly ever lacked self-confidence, I tend to easily trust those around me, and I do, feel, and react in extremes. I have found that this life brings my life and dreams to two different spectrums – success and happiness or disappointment and utter defeat. I have had many ambitions in life that I have intensely fought to keep alive, whether they were realistic or not. I have made many big mistakes in my life, I have trusted many people who I shouldn’t have, and through these failures I am slowly learning that there are limitations, people do betray you, not all your dreams are attainable, and yarn does not serve as a substitute for rope…

Most of these failures have left scars, real ones and hypothetical ones, but they remain to remind me of the lessons I have learnt. One big one that I have learnt over the years is that you can’t achieve everything you set your mind to. That is a big hocus pocus, self help line that people throw out to kids. The truth is that there are many unmovable obstacles that prevent you from running away with your dreams.

If I changed the way I go about life would it have made things easier? Probably. Would my lessons be less jarring? Definitely. Do I wish I could change it? No.

There have been many mountains that I have not been able to climb, however there have been the ones that I have been able to make it to the top to look back and realize how much it took to get there. The lessons have been valuable, the scars meaningful, and the experiences wonderful.

There will always be the trees that will hurt you, but somewhere nearby will be one growing just waiting for you to undertake it. The frustrations only prove to heighten the accomplishments; the failures make your dreams seem more real. Even though experience is the hardest teacher, it has been my favourite one.

increadible imogen

I love her music.

presecription for Leaf fans

Today , across Ontario, many a heart of a loyal Leafs fan took a horrible beating. The playoff fate of their favourite team lay not in their own hands, but in the hands of the New Jersey Devils, they needed them to come out victorious. In the third period the plight of the Leafs looked grim as the New York Islanders were up 2-0. The hearts of the Leafs fans were plumeting and it seemed as if there was little hope to cling to... but then New Jersey scored, 2-1! It was now a close game, the spirits lifted and we saw a light at the end of the tunnel. As the minutes wore on, New Jersey had yet to score. It then came down to the seconds... 10-9-8-7-6-5-4... the tears started to fall down the faces of some, while others smashed anything within reach... 3-2-1... good-bye Leafs...0.7 SCORE!! The New Jersey Devils had scored! Unbelievable... No one knew how to react to the painful squeeze of their hearts as they struggled to quell the shock. It was not over yet! The fat lady had not sung her tune! Fate was on our side, so it seemed anyways...
Overtime came and went with the different chances for each team, but no one was able to decide the game. This only meant one thing... the dreaded shoot outs ie. the nerve destroyer.
New York scored, New Jersey scored 1-1.
New York scored, New Jersey didn't 2-1.
Smyth was the next one to shoot, if he got it in Leafs would not make the playoffs. Realistically, many fans knew what was most like going to happen. Smyth is king, there is no way he will miss. Once again Leaf fans accept the coming doom. Smyth skates, shoots and NO GOAL, saved!
The spirits rise once again, new hope is given....
New York doesn't score, it is over. Leafs are out to the golfing range.

Tear.

Honestly, this was one of the most intense games I have ever seen or heard (I had to listen to it on the radio, no tv channels). My nerves were shot and my heart battered with disappointment. Will I get over it? Eventually. I just don't think I can watch another close game like this for quite sometime - my doctor advised against it.

The cure for this does not come in a bottle as advertised above - although it could work for you - my cure will be seeing the Senators loose in their first round of playoffs. Other than that, I think I wore off at least a year of my life... oh well it was worth it.

GO JAYS GO!

Good Friday, 1613. Riding Westward

Let mans Soul be a sphere, and then, in this,
The intelligence that moves, devotion is,
And as the other spheres, by being grown
Subject to foreigne motion, lose their own,
And being by others hurried every day,
Scarce in a year their natural form obey:
Pleasure or business, so, our Souls admit
For their first mover, and are whirled by it.
Hence is't, that I am carried towards the West
This day, when my Souls form bends toward the East.
There I should see a Sun, by rising set,
And by that setting endless day beget;
But that Christ on this Cross, did rise and fall,
Sin had eternally benighted all.
Yet dare I almost be glad, I do not see
That spectacle of too much weight for me.
Who sees Gods face, that is self-life, must die;
What a death were it then to see God die?
It made his own lieutenant, Nature, shrink,
It made his footstoole crack, and the Sun wink.
Could I behold those hands which span the poles,
And tune all spheres at once peirced with those holes?
Could I behold that endless height which is
Zenith to us, and to our Antipodes,
Humbled below us? or that blood which is
The seat of all our Souls, if not of his,
Made dirt of dust, or that flesh which was worn
By God, for his apparel, ragg'd, and torn?
If on these things I durst not looke, durst I
Upon his miserable mother cast mine eye,
Who was Gods partner here, and furnished thus
Half of that Sacrifice, which ransomed us?
Though these things, as I ride, be from mine eye,
They are present yet unto my memory,
For that looks towards them; and thou look'st towards mee,
O Saviour, as thou hang'st upon the tree;
I turn my back to thee, but to receive
Corrections, till thy mercies bid thee leave.
O think me worth thine anger, punish me,
Burn off my rusts, and my deformity,
Restore thine image, so much, by thy grace,
That thou may'st know mee, and I'll turn my face.

- John Donne

killer queen

If you don't see me around this week, it's because I have transformed into the Killer Queen.

Superpowers include:
- accelerated healing
- invisability
- poison generation
- sonic scream
- superhuman reflexes
- night vision
- wallcrawling
- superhuman intelligence
- immoratality

She's a Killer Queen

Gunpowder, gelatine, dynamite, with a laser beam.

Guaranteed to blow your mind anytime!

the power of serving others

Saturday was Cross Culture.

I have to admit, if you would have asked me at 6:30am if I was excited for the day, I honestly would have had to say no. You know the usual excuses... I wanted to sleep in, the weather looked gloomy, or I thought there was something else I could have been doing; purely selfish reasons.

Let's just say I have learnt long ago that I should never listen to myself during the first 30-45mins after I first get up (I am a pretty grumpy morning person).

As soon as I got myself going, putting porridge and some milk inside my belly, I started to feel a little more chipper and optamistic about the day. Its suprising what a good bowl of oatmeal can do for you. "There is no such thing as a bad meal when you eat some oatmeal!" Okay... enough about oatmeal, more about Cross Culture.

Cross Culture was such a blessed and wonderful day. It went so smoothly. I would just like to take a moment to thank everyone who made it possible, you are all incredible.

I wrote a little while ago that Bono once said, "Stop asking God to bless what you are doing. Get involved in what God is doing, because it's already blessed." It was evident that Cross Culture is what God is doing.

Matt B and I had the priviledge of being the leaders of the group that went down to Helping Hands. The people there have such BIG hearts! It is a used clothing store run completely by volunteers and is supported by donations only. All the clothes there are free and every Friday they go out and hand out hygene packages to the people on the streets. It was so neat just to have convorsations with these wonderful people and see the passion for serving shining through everything they said and did. It made me think "I want that."

I was caught off guard by one of the questions that Helen (the lady who runs Helping Hands) asked. She looked me in the eyes and said, "Katrina, what drives you heart for God? What makes you feel close to God, what makes your heart feel fulfilled?"

I guess the reason why that question caught me off guard so much was because I thought we were at that time in the convorsation where she would ask the typical, "What are you going to school for?" or "What do you want to become?" And I would answer with the typical, "I am going to school to become an elementary teacher. I can't wait, it's been my dream for quite awhile."

The question she asked me was direct, it was in the present. Not what do you want to become, but who ARE you? It wasn't easy to answer and I don't think I did myself justice with the answer I gave her, "I like to help people." Well said Katrina, well said. If I had a second chance I would hope I could come up with a slightly better phrased answer.

Making a difference drives my heart. Relating to people, seeing someone smile, listening to someone share themselves, being there, doing the little things, giving, serving, being needed... that is what makes my heart feel closest to God, that's what makes me tick.

There is such power found in serving others. I truly think that God did not intend us to be selfish beings who only look out for the "number one." Because when I looked around at the faces of everyone involved with Cross Culture I saw joy, I saw love, I felt God.

Donald Miller (great author of Blue Like Jazz) pretty much sums it up, "There is a kind of evolution that happens to the people who have learnt the beautiful truth that other people exist, and that life can be found in serving them."

I'm going to pull a Helen... "What drives your heart? What makes you feel closest to God?"
Answer those questions and I'll bet that you will start to understand who you actually ARE.

I know it got me started...

here I am...

Here I am sitting at my cluttered 'desk' at 5:00am in the morning, my carpet chair has long lost its whatever comfort it had to offer as I attempt to finish a paper that is due in T minus four hours...
My stomach feels like it is rotting from the gallons of coffee I downed and my hands shake from the gitters as I attempt to type.
I am barley keeping my sanity thanks to Norah humming a tune in the background.
Its kinda funny how being sleep deprived reminds you of the things that annoy you the most and how they all tend to make an appearance... clutter, coffee breath, MLA, dirty dishes, dry itchy eyes, people who whine and complain about having to stay up and work on papers...
Yes, I am annoying myself so I am going to stop



At least someone is sleeping tonight.

what do you want to be when your 20?

If you would have asked me that question more than 10 years ago, these would have been some of the possible responses:

"A milk tester so that I could have a constant supply of Trident gum, Bubblegum flavour."
"I want to have 10 puppies that will always stay puppies because I am going to invent a special concoction that will make them stay puppies forever!"
"I will be living in the woods in a little cabin."
"Be playing for the Mighty Ducks."
"A famous poet and draw the cartoon characters for Walt Disney on the side."
"I will be married to Shawn Shaver and have at least 3 kids"
"I will be the fastest runner in Canada and go on to the Olympics and win a gold medal."
"I will host my own cooking and gardening show and teach the world how to make my famous mud/sand pie."

Yesterday I turned 20, and I think my childhood self would have looked down on me with distain for I haven't fulfilled any of the expectations...

I wasn't sure what it would feel like to turn 20. I was kinda intimidated by this 'milestone' birthday, leaving the days of being a teenager behind. It feels like days ago when I turn 13 and no longer was obligated to say the mealtime prayer, "Lord bless this food and drink for Jesus sake Amen" and having a crush on Nick Carter.
It seems like yesterday when I was celebrating the sweet 16, getting my G1 which meant I no longer had to rely on my Supercyle bike.
It seems like hours ago when I turned 20...

I think my older brother Mike described the feeling of turning 20 the best, "Well Katrina, you are not 30 and your not 10, your in between..." Sums it up pretty well.

Now that I am 20 years old am I disappointed that I am not living in the woods with Shawn and my three kids? Nope. Luckily some things over the years do change...
I can confidently say that I am not disappointed about where I am today. When I look around me all I see is blessings, the health and love of my family, the laughter and support of friends, the oppotunity to go to school, freedom, and joy. I know I don't deserve this, which makes me even more thankful. It gives me such anticipation for my future and what the next 10 years will bring.

If you would have asked me this question about 2 minutes ago, these would have been some of the possible responses:

"I want to be a good daughter, sister, and friend."
"To be rooted and established in my faith, keeping God constantly as the number one in my life."
"To own a motorcyle and get other people give me rides on it." (I don't have any desire to drive one, I just want to be the passenger.)
"To continue to work towards my dream of becoming a teacher"
"To take advantage of every opportunity that life presents and enjoy it to the fullest."
"Be the fourth member of the Dixie Chicks"
"To only drink real tea"
"Always be streching myself to grow and learn. Listening to different opinions and forming my own. 'Always grow, grow always.'"
"Play for the Canadian Olympics Woman's Softball team" (I can always still keep dreaming...)
"Ultimately, living a life that is pleasing to God, trusting in His plans for my life, and allowing Him to guide me down the paths of my life."

Somethings change, somethings don't...

stess reliever?

This morning when I thought my head and stomach were going to explode from the pressure of realizing everything I have to do in my life until next week Thursday this soundtrack soothed it ALL away... ok it just made me chuckle at myself for restorting to ocean sounds. I think I might be going nutso.

glorious calvin and hobbes

I absolutely love Calvin and Hobbes cartoons! So I thought I would dedicate one blog specifically to them by showing some of my favourite cartoons and quotes by the one and only, Calvin.

(Yippee for procastination methods when I really should be writing one the the trillion papers that I have due.)

"Why should I have to WORK for everything?! It's like saying I don't deserve it!"

"I must obey the inscrutable exhortations of my soul."

"I go to school, but I never learn what I want to know."

"To make a bad day worse, spend it wishing for the impossible."

"You know, Hobbes, some days even my lucky rocketship underpants don't help."

"In my opinion, we don't devote nearly enough scientific research to finding a cure for jerks."

"Things are never quite as scary when you've got a best friend."

"I'M SIGNIFICANT!...screamed the dust speck."

God on a dirt road walking toward me

I know, I know, I know... and that is the problem.

God never promised that the Christian walk is going to be easy, but the comfort that we have is that we will never have to do it alone. Everyone knows the classic line from the Footprints In The Sand poem "I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you."

It is easy for the mind to wrap itself around this concept, but it's a lot harder to tell that to the heart. What the mind knows does not always easily transfer down to the heart. The head got the memo, but the heart is illiterate. Great. Sometimes, I wish that it was the other way around.

What do you do when God's prescence is foreign? Do you just go on pretending like everything is ok and then eventually it will be? Do you go on with the mentality that this is just a valley and you must go through it to stand upon the mountain of God? Cliche.

When my devotions could not pierce
Thy silent ears, Then was my heart broken, as was my verse;

Both knees and heart in crying night and day,
Come, come my God, O come!
But no hearing.

O that thou shouldst give dust a tongue
To cry to thee,
And then not hear it crying!

(excepts from Denial by George Herbert)

Not so cliche, eh?

I once listened to an Indian on television say that God was in the wind and the water, and I wondered at how beautiful that was because it meant you could swim in Him or have Him brush your face in a breeze. I am early in my story, but I believe I will stretch out into eternity, and in heaven I will reflect upon these early days, these days when it seems God was walking down a dirt road, walking toward me. Years ago He was a swinging speck in the distance; someday He will be close enough that I can hear His singing. Eventually, I will see the lines on His face. (Blue Like Jazz)

How I long for that day when God will no longer be walking towards me on the dirt road, but we will be walking together holding hands. Then there will be no reason to convince myself of His prescence for it will be undeniable.

I will understand.

Ive got a hankering

Spring is in the air, which means it is time to dust off one of my most treasured possessions - my beautiful black Rawlings glove.
I've got a real hankering to play catch, so consider this an open invitation. Anyone, anytime, anywhere. (I think this sounds desperate. Meh, oh well.)
But in the meantime I guess there is always this option...


If you watched this whole thing, don't feel too bad. It is kinda hypnotizing.

attempting to put into words...

This past week has been one of those 'makes me smile and feel all warm and fuzzy inside every time I look back on it' weeks.

It all started with a road trip down to Clinton with Matt, Liz, Ryan, and Robyn to watch Ryan play some hockey. The game was intense and left the fans on the edge of their seats. Ryan's fans were satisfied with his two goals and an assist. (I think those stats are right... although I am just a self-proclaimed sportsnet reporter).Ryan and Matt's piercing voices, as they sang along to "Too Little, Too Late," was classic. I swear Matt hit every note.

This next part makes me gloat with glee. Our team for British Quiz night swept the board and left all the other teams in the dust. One little thing though... I'm still bitter about that dairy farmer question. I have NEVER ever heard a real farmer call twelve or more cows a Flink. I'm pretty sure if they did they would be mocked until the cows come home.
Special note for team Guild: B for 'Better luck next time'

On Wednesday we broke from tradition and went out for dessert instead of having devos. (Just for a quick side note, if you ever want to go out for dessert don't go to Crabby's because they only have one dessert.) So I got the only dessert they had, some kind of apple caramel crunch and a large caramel milkshake and learnt quickly that caramel is only good in small doses... unlike the wonderfulness, exemplary smoothness, and richness of chocolate. mmmm chocolate.
Here's me attempting to give Tamille a wet willie. Fun.

This one is a gem! Over the last couple of days I have fallen in love with Anna Nalick's music. This week I learnt how to play her song 'Breathe' on guitar. It's been wonderful and I'm sure the girls in my dorm might be sick of hearing it. This little video combines my favourite movie with a great song 'Forever Love' by Anna Nalick. *sigh*

Ever since I got this face mask stuff for Christmas, I have been trying with little avail to get the girls to have a face mask night with me. On Thursday night James Harskamp made my day by asking if he could have a face mask treatment. Gosh golly, what a pleasant surprise. I finally got to share the experience of the Cucumber Melon Facial Clay with someone. It was definitely a brother and sister moment, although my brothers have never let me do this to them....
So if you notice anything different about James and I, its not a hair cut or a dye, but our extremely smooth and good looking faces.

Big News! For the first time in my life I am going to be going to a Blue Jays home opener!!!!! Gone are the days of watching it on the television and wishing that I could be there experiencing the smells, sounds, sights, and excitement of baseball. I can't even put into words how this makes me feel. The best I can come up with right now is, 'Oh man, I'm so pumped!!!!!'

Banquet. It was on Friday. It was super, duper, fantastical, amazing! That day was so lovely, sun shining, birds chirping, spring was in the air. Danielle and I went on a drive with the sun roof open to Limeridge to do some last minute shopping. When I got back the dorm it was time to get ready. :) I had the privilege of doing Liz, Ree, and Robyn's hairdos for the night. Kudos goes out to them for trusting me with it. If anyone would have lit a match in our dorm it probably, no definitely, would have combusted due to the hairspray fogging the air.
The best part of the night was the dancing! Incredible. Never have I seen so many dutch people letting it loose on the dance floor. The smoothness and slickness of the people around me never ceases to amaze me.
That night we got back and watched the movie 'The Prestige' until 4am. Great movie, definitely confusing, but a fantastic movie. I recommend it to anyone who hasn't seen it. Oh! and speaking of movies, we watched 300 this week too. Another fantastic movie, it was very well done. I normally don't like war movies, but this one was different.

Last but not least, because this is what truly makes my week wonderful, is the time just spent with my first rate friends. The late night talks, the laughs, singing, trips to Wallmart and Tims, watching 24, and those Sunday afternoon lunches we have, honestly usually the highlight of my week.

Yup, this week has been golden.

sarcasm, a beautiful thing

My favourite type of humour is sarcastic humour. There is something about it that cracks me up everytime. When people have perfected this art, it's a beautiful thing. There are only a few whom I have met who have been able to accomplish this. Robyn and Jess, you are probably the top ranked in my books when it comes to sarcasm; I still haven't found anyone that could measure up.

Don't ask me how I found this.. lets just say I stumbled upon it late at night while I was sleep walking. If you actally use it to improve yourself sarcastically I promise not to tell anyone. It is a lesson plan on being sarcastic.

Note: By no means do I consider myself intellectually superior to you. Just because I am trying to teach you something that is usually innate and comes easy to those who are clever and intelligent, or at least quick-witted, does not mean that I presume to think myself your superior, and expect that you genuflect before me. You can thank me later...

Step One: What Is Sarcasm

As with any subject of study, it is always helpful, nay, necessary to learn the terms of art that relate to the subject. In this case it will be easy since by simply knowing the definition of the word ‘sarcasm' should be enough to point you in the right direction.

Sarcasm: Pronunciation: 'sär-"ka-z&m
Function: noun
Etymology: French or Late Latin; French sarcasme, from Late Latin sarcasmos, from Greek sarkasmos, from sarkazein to tear flesh, bite the lips in rage, sneer, from sark-, sarx flesh; probably akin to Avestan thwarts- to cut
1 : a sharp and often satirical or ironic utterance designed to cut or give pain
2 a : a mode of satirical wit depending for its effect on bitter, caustic, and often ironic language that is usually directed against an individual b : the use or language of sarcasm

Step 2: Finding People Who Are Capable of Sarcasm

In order to be able to recognize sarcasm, you will need to hear a lot of sarcastic comments, and to pay close attention to the nuances that make an otherwise simple comment into a sarcastic sting. To do this, you will need regular access to one person who is a natural at being sarcastic. The easiest place to start would be the people you already know. Although it is unlikely that you will have a friend or acquaintance who is clever enough to be sarcastic -- being that you are not sarcastic yourself*-- it is still worth evaluating your friends.

Step 3: Memorizing and Reciting Sarcastic Comments

The exercise for this lesson is rather straightforward: memorize and repeat.
Every sarcastic comment that you identify should be memorized; write it down if you have to – You can get a small notepad and pen at your local stationary store. Always be sure to make a mental or written note (it is best to make a written note) detailing the situation in which the sarcastic remark was made.

Step 4: Making Original Sarcastic Comments

This will be the hardest portion of your studies, because it requires that you develop your own thoughts. As with any new venture, there will be mistakes.
After every attempt at being sarcastic ask questions, ‘Was that sarcastic?', ‘Did you think that my comment was clever?'. Learn from your mistakes, and do not be afraid to ask for help to further develop the comments that you find are not sarcastic.
This exercise should be repeated until you can at least make a successful sarcastic comment fifty percent (half) of the time. However, make sure that you do not overexert yourself in trying to always be perfect with your sarcasm. Just be happy with the abilities that you have developed.

You're Welcome! :)

why i still love full house...

Tonight I spent a good 2 hours just watching Full House clips and I have renewed my childhood crush on Jesse... he is such a stud.

ignorance and truth

Ignorance. What is ignorance? Is ignorance bliss?

One of the greatest discoveries that we make as human beings is to recognize how little we really know about almost everything and understand the magnitude of our ignorance. For as we begin to realise how much we don't know, we being our journey of discovery towards the horizon of the unknown towards the truth.

Truth. Francis Bacon once asked, "What is truth?"

'But it is not the lie that passeth through the mind, but the lie that sinketh in, and settleth in it, that doth the hurt; such as we spake of before. But, howsoever these things are thus in men's depraved judgments, and affections, Yet truth, which only doth judge itself, teacheth that the inquiry of truth, which is the love-making, or wooing of it, the knowledge of truth, which is the presence of it, and the belief of truth, which is the enjoying of it, is the sovereign good of human nature.'

Truth is the opposite of a lie. Lies are powerful, for they have the capacity to replace truth so that we no longer search for it. They sink into our very being, giving us a sad sort of pleasure. They are easier to accept, because they do not challenge, they do not seek for answers. They are a simple concept to quell questioning and consequences.

'If it be well weighed, to say that a man lieth, is as much to say, as that he is brave towards God, and a coward towards men. For a lie faces God, and shrinks from man.'

Truth on the other hand challenges us and does not allow us to wallow in our ignorance. It does not allow us to ignore the consquences of the things we accept. Truth is not comfortable for it has the capacity to confront a mistaken belief. Even though lies are powerful, truth overcomes. Truth lasts; it is the presence of truth that allows for knowledge and it is the beautiful display of the spirit working in the good of human nature.

'Certainly, it is heaven upon earth, to have a man's mind move in charity, rest in providence, and turn upon the poles of truth.'

*All quotes are from Francis Bacon's Essay On Truth