dear craig

You are with the angels now in the presence of God, you have recieved the goal of your faith. No stress, no pressures, no more deadlines, no more meetings (although knowing you, you will convince everyone that there is a need for meetings in heaven and will be guiding them through Roberts Rules).

You were an incredible friend. Thanks for the many talks, I learnt so much from you about what it means to have a solid faith. You made me question things that I hadn't before and challenged me to grow in all aspects of my life - even the business and politic area). The life you lived was an inspiration.

I'll miss you so much. I don't know how we are going to do it next year without you here. Who is going to sit in on the meetings, faithfully read the minutes, and check the website everyday? Who's going to ask me to look over their papers for grammar errors? Who am I going to watch and quote the lines of Zoolander and Night at the Roxbury with? Who will I talk about 'So You Think You Can Dance?' episodes with? Who am I going to spend hours with counting loose change? I still think we should have invested in the change counting machine 2000. You were the only one I knew who could eat a full plate of extremely hot wings without breaking a sweat, and the only one who could ever convince me to try one.

Thanks for being such an upstanding leader, example, and man of God. Thanks for all your encouraging words and actions. Thanks for caring, thanks for being my friend.

Dance with the angels for me, just try not to break out the techno, Im not sure they could handle that.

I love you,

Katrina

making light of flight.

In about 5 days/120 hours/7200 minutes/432000 seconds I'll be in Alberta, but who's really counting anyways?
I'm really quite excited. The only little thing is that I'm a tad bit afraid of flying. Hopefully the person sitting beside me won't mind me holding their hand very tightly for about 5 hours.

In order to warm myself up for flying I was reading a bunch of airplane jokes, this one was my favourite.

Occasionally, airline attendants make an effort to make the "in-flight safety lecture" and their other announcements a bit more entertaining. Here are some real examples that have been heard or reported:
1. From a Southwest Airlines employee.... "There may be 50 ways to leave your lover, but there are only 4 ways out of this airplane..."
2. Pilot -- "Folks, we have reached our cruising altitude now, so I am going to switch the seat belt sign off. Feel free to move about as you wish, but please stay inside the plane till we land...it's a bitcold outside, and if you walk on the wings it affects the flight pattern."
3. After landing: "Thank you for flying Delta Business Express. We hope you enjoyed giving us the business as much as we enjoyed taking you for a ride.
4. As the plane landed and was coming to a stop at Washington National, a lone voice comes over the loudspeaker: "Whoa, big fella. WHOA!"
5. After a particularly rough landing during thunderstorms in Memphis, a flight attendant on a Northwest flight announced: "Please take care when opening the overhead compartments because, after alanding like that, sure as hell everything has shifted."
6. From a Southwest Airlines employee.... "Welcome aboard SouthwestFlight XXX to YYY. To operate your seatbelt, insert the metal tab into the buckle, and pull tight. It works just like every other seatbelt and if you don't know how to operate one, you probably shouldn't be out in public unsupervised. In the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks will descend from the ceiling. Stop screaming, grab the mask, and pull it over your face. If you have a small child traveling with you, secure your mask beforeassisting with theirs. If you are traveling with two small children, decide now which one you love more.
7. Weather at our destination is 50 degrees with some broken clouds, but they'll try to have them fixed before we arrive. Thank you, and remember, nobody loves you or your money, more than Southwest Airlines."
8. "Your seat cushions can be used for flotation and in the event of an emergency water landing, please take them with our compliments."
9. "As you exit the plane, please make sure to gather all of your belongings. Anything left behind will be distributed evenly among the flight attendants. Please do not leave children or spouses."
10. "Last one off the plane must clean it."
11. From the pilot during his welcome message: "We are pleased to have some of the best flight attendants in the industry...Unfortunately none of them are on this flight...!
12. Overheard on an American Airlines flight into Amarillo, Texas, on a particularly windy and bumpy day. During the final approach, the Captain was really having to fight it. After an extremely hardlanding, the Flight Attendant came on the PA and announced, "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Amarillo. Please remain in your seats with your seatbelts fastened while the Captain taxis what's left of our airplane to the gate!"
13. Another flight Attendant's comment on a less than perfect landing: "We ask you to please remain seated as Captain Kangaroobounces us to the terminal."
14. An airline pilot wrote that on this particular flight he had hammered his ship into the runway really hard. The airline had a policy which required the first officer to stand at the door while the passengers exited, smile, and give them a "Thanks for flying XYZ airline." He said that in light of his bad landing, he had a hard time looking the passengers in the eye, thinking that someone would have a smart comment.
Finally, everyone had gotten off except for this little old lady walking with a cane. She said, "Sonny, mind if I ask you a question?"
"Why no, Ma'am," said the pilot, "what is it?"
The little old lady said, "Did we land or were we shot down?"
15. After a real crusher of a landing in Phoenix, the Flight Attendant came on with, "Ladies and Gentlemen, please remain in your seats until Captain Crash and the Crew have brought the aircraft to a screeching halt up against the gate. And, once the tire smoke has cleared and the warning bells are silenced, we'll open the door and you can pick your way through the wreckage to the terminal.
16. Part of a Flight Attendant's arrival announcement: "We'd like to thank you folks for flying with us today. And, the next time you get the insane urge to go blasting through the skies in a pressurized metal tube, we hope you'll think of us here at US Airways."

burnt stew

It is never a good sign when you come in from the barn and you are unable to untie the laces of your work boots due to the fact that your vision is impared from the smoke billowing from the kitchen.

Last night was my little brother's graduation and since my parents had to attend the grad dinner, my mom had prepared stew ahead of time. My Oma, with the best intensions, thought she would warm the stew for her starving grandchildren who were hard at work in the barn. According to Oma our stove is the wrong way, hence the reason why she turned the element to max instead of min. But don't worry, she 'saved' the stew by taking it out of the original pot, scraping out the burnt parts, and putting in a new pot so we would not even suspect what happened. Unfortunately, she didn't take into account the obvious clue of smoke lingering in the air and the fact that the stew tasted like woodsmoke (not that I have ever eaten wood that was smoked). Since my Oma felt bad enough we decided to choke down the stew, insisting that you couldn't even taste the difference. That night I discovered that there is a way of making old leftovers taste worse, burn it.
We tried to feed the rest to my dog Chester, but after the first lick he ran away with his tail between his legs.

Believe it or not when you compare other situations to burnt stew it has a way of enhancing them...
The following will be classified by using the burnt stew scenerio:
1 being burnt stew -- 10 being chocolate chip cookies

Missing an episode of 'So You Think You Can Dance' -- 5
Having Sarah repeatly fart on my lap -- 4
Being taken out by the knees by Chester -- 7
Weeding our one acre garden -- 6
Putting my hands in stinging nettles (again) -- 4
Being kicked in the head by a cow -- 2
McDonald hitting a clinch, inside the park homerun, in the 10th to win the game -- 9
Leafs not picking up any huge names in the draft -- 5
Watching someone break random things with their but cheeks -- 6
Watching the same annoying car commercial 8 times in one hour -- 4
Playing catch with Mike -- 8
Having a skunk spray its wonderful scent right outside our house -- 3
The fact that there are only 10 more days until I head on out to Alberta -- 15.4!!!!!!

Cheers darling!

winchester is on the map baby!

The one and only Rick Mercer came to Winchester for our annual hospital fundraiser.
Nope, not making this up, the picture is proof. But if you still don't believe me check this out.

I can just see it now... you will all be turning green with envy as you watch my hometown on national television.

easy silence

A professor strides into his classroom, the chatter of students subside as they turn to face the front. Some of them eager to learn, while others are there with the sole purpose to obtain a credit. The professor turns towards his class, but does not say a word, he stands in silence, staring.
The students wait, note books open, ready for him to begin casting pearls of wisdom. Yet, he does not speak.
The only sound in the room is the constant ticking of the clock. Five minutes go by, then ten... *coughing, awkward shifting* Some students get up to leave. Still, he does not utter a word.
Finally, 23 minutes later, when the students feel like they could not take this any longer, the professor asks, "What is happening here?"
He pauses, looks each student in the eye, " What is it about silence that makes people uneasy?"
"Why do people only feel comfortable when they are filling the air with words?"

Awkward silence... something I hate, something most of us hate (if I can make that assumption). I'm sure we have all been in a situation where we are with someone, or even a group of people, and all of the sudden the convorsation runs dry. There is usually a long pause as you rack your brain for something to say, and then the moment is saved as someone pipes up with a comment about the weather. Fantastic, relief is felt and the convorsation continues.
Now, I will admit that I am usually the pipey person... the one who 'saves' the convorsation. But why? What is it with silence?
Why do we feel like we always have to fill our lives with noise? While we are driving - crank the tunes. While we are cleaning - crank the tunes. While we are with people - talk, talk, talk. While the family is sitting in the playroom - tv on in the background.
Don't get me wrong, I love to listen music, I love to talk, and I even love to watch tv... But honestly, I think we drown out life sometimes, forget to enjoy it for what it is.
If I was the doctor of this world, I would perscribe a good dose of easy silence.
The silence that is allowed to happen between people. When two or more people are sitting in the same room and no words are needed; there is no pipey person.
The silence when you are in the house by yourself, you hum, you sing, you dance.
The silence that lets you think. Getting lost in the thoughts that are scary, taking you places you really don't want to go, forcing you to deal with the stuff that you rather just not, making you truely realise what you have been compromising... Getting lost in the thoughts that are incredible, taking you places you really want to go, giving space to contemplate the great things in life, allowing you to dream...
The silence that surrounds you as you sit outside on summers night. Crickets singing, birds chirping, wind rustling through the trees, as you watch the sun set.

The silence that feels like a gift, the easy silence.

songs that make me sing

Weak in the Knees - Serena Ryder

Easy Silence - Dixie Chicks

This Love - Maroon 5


You Love To Sing - Copeland

some people need to get a hobby...

I first want to clarify that I have absolutely nothing against the 'Scripps National Spelling Bee.' In fact I think it is incredible and I watch the finals every year on tv. Those 13 year olds are genious; I watch the whole three hours, mouth agape with wonder at the words they spell.
Psychologists feed on this: I was and never will be a good speller, to put it bluntly I suck at it. I was always the first kid to sit down while competing in Mrs. Summers' spelling bees and the first one to strike out in Spelling Baseball with Mr. Postma. Maybe that is why I am so fascinated...

But when I read this article titled ' Protest urges simpler English,' I actually laughed out loud.

A group of English women formed a picket line yesterday outside the Scripps National Spelling Bee, protesting today's English language. Get this, they are from England, which means that they had to fly ALL the way across the Atlantic ocean to run this protest!!

The reason that they protest is because they think that the English language that has been inflicted across the rest of the world has been made unnessarily difficult. They use slogans such as "It's time to take the sting out of spelling," and "Let's end the 'i' in friend".
Clever?

One lady declared, "If spelling was made easier, more people would become literate and confident about writing and children would have more time to learn many other useful things - and to play."

Wow, that is quite the cause.
Maybe I should rephrase my title... 'Some people need to get a NEW hobby."

road trip

A bunch of friends are lounging in a living room (no one's in particular) and the option of driving to who knows where, for who knows how long comes up. There is a pause and then one zellous friend jumps off the couch and yells, "ROAD TRIP!"

The others soon join in and soon the room is buzzing with excitement.

This is the typical reaction to the opportunity of a roadtrip. No one stops to think about the fact that they will be crammed in a car with people - it doesn't matter - it's all part of the adventure, the fun, and you love these people. Sweet.

My family is sitting in the playroom, my mom and dad look at eachother in anticipation, my mom stands up clears her throat and announces that we are going to Florida. My little brother jumps up and starts running around the house, Mike smiles and nods, and Erika and I squeal with excitement and start dreaming about Walt Disney world - just like in the commercials.

My dad clears his throat and adds, "We will be taking the van."

Jeremy stops running, Mike stops smiling, Erika stops dreaming, and well I am still dancing in the fields with John Smith because I wan't listening.

For my family, the idea of a road trip was never met with excitement, in fact even as a write this I am getting an sick feeling deep within my stomach. I'm sure in the early days, when we were naive and the only place we went in a car was to church and Grandpa's house, they didn't seem so bad, but then again I was strapped in a car seat and my brother in his booster seat.

I don't know what it is... my family loves eachother, we get along (most of the time), we are happy people, but stick us in a vechicle for longer then 15 minutes we turn into the extremely irritable family from Gloomsville. Needless to say, road trips with the VandenBerg's are usually memorable, but for all the wrong reasons...

I think I am going to attribute this lack of love to all the bad experiences we have had on the road together. When we were kids we didn't have the option of having a tv to entertain us for the ride, instead we used eacother, or in other words Mike bugged the jeebers out of me - poking, tickle torturing, teasing, pulling my braids, anything really to get a reaction. I think I would give a satisfactory reaction by crying, screaming, scratching and complaining. Every now and then my mom would look back and firmly tell Mike to stop harrassing his poor innocent little sister. My dad would drive on, silently brewing, until my last wail would make him snap and he would veer the van to a screeching halt, gravel flying, to the side of the road and refuse to drive on. From then on the ride would be pretty silent, except for Erika's oblivious chatter with her dolls.

And then of course there is the fact that when you are on a road trip your family must give you your MUCH needed space. Before every trip we would draw imaginary lines on the seats that no one or nothing that wasn't yours could not cross. The second your space was violated, Mom was informed. "Mom! Erika's hair is on my side!" My mom was inventive and she came up with the solution of rolling up blankets and placing them between us to ensure that we wouldn't touch eachother. But for some odd reason this would only seem to make invading someones space more tempting...

I think it would be important to note that my dad is one of those guys who will never stop and ask for directions if we are lost. He will also never admit we are lost. There have been times where we have added at leat 3 hours to a trip going the 'scenic route.' One classic time was when we were going camping and we missed one turnoff. We kept driving until eventually we were driving down this cow path while my dad was muttering how people should take better care of their roads. My mom finally convinced him to ask directions at the next place we went by, which ended up being a dump half an hour away. All we met there was a black bear... my dad decided to turn around.

If we were to ever write a book called 'Road Trips From Hell - VandenBerg edition,' the main plot would be concerning the epic Florida road trip. 2 days + four siblilngs + bordom + a blizzard + traffic jam = torture. At this time Jeremy was just begining to realise that it is every little brother's duty to annoy the stuffing out of his sisters. He would sing, he would burp, he would fart, he would punch - Mom and Dad thought it was cute, while we were driven crazy. I think there was a time where I spent a good two hours thinking of ways I could throw him out the window without Mom noticing.

Last summer, my family tried it again... this time to Boston, Darian Lake. You would think that since we have matured it would be a much better trip. Well, 'maturity' kinda melts away in 34 degree weather, no airconditioning, and being stuck at the border for 2 and a half hours. Although, there was a time where we all laughed until we cried, which broke the ice (if there was any ice to break). We had the sliding doors open while waiting at the border and when my little brother slammed one shut my dad jumped, swore, and hit his head on the top of the van because he thought we were getting shot at.

Honestly, the only thing that got us through the many times on the road was the promise that we would stop at a restaraunt. Road trips were the only reason that I encountered Fast Food in my childhood.

A road trip you say? Who cares that you will be crammed in a car with people, it doesn't matter, it's all part of the adventure, the fun, and you love these people. Sweet.

it's like medicine

It has been just one of those nights... and these things, it's like medicine.

a great song plays on the radio while driving home
apple blossoms
the smell of lilacs
Chester welcoming me home with a slobbery kiss
listening to Erika play piano
a word of advice and encouragement from my dad and mom
playing guitar
memories of little hugs and kisses
chocolate chip cookies
a cup of tea with honey
star gazing

this one's for you

Robo, I read this in the newspaper and thought of you.
It gave me a good snicker.

it is well with my soul

And the greatest commandment is this:

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.” Mark 12:30

If I were to choose one thing that I have realised this past year about my walk of faith, it would be this: learning the implications of loving God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength.

I’m not even going to try and pretend that I have found the answer for this lesson, because I don’t. I have just begun this journey, and this past year was a testament to my ignorance.

At Redeemer you find many people who know their Bible and doctrine inside out. They seem so strong, so set in their faith, so secure. They know what it is all about, they have the answers to the big questions – so it seems anyways – I was/am fascinated by this. I am going to be honest here, I took catechism, but I didn’t take it seriously. I would love to be able to tell you that I know exactly what being Reformed is all about, but I can’t. Not something I am proud of, I see doctrine as being vital within the church and I can’t even begin to express how important it is to know and stick to it. I have experienced the implications of this within my home church.
I felt guilty, so I spent so much time concentrating and learning the nitty gritties about our doctrine. This is where the answers lay. I was going to finally understand Christianity better than I had ever before.
I soon became extremely cynical of the Christian Reformed Church, I thought we were going to the pits. We were not putting enough emphasis on doctrine. I sat through services picking everything apart and in some sick way I built myself up as I tore my church down.
It took one comment from my dad to snap me out of it. It was a Sunday night and I was having the weekly phone chat with the family. I was telling my dad about how I was so annoyed at church because they didn’t read the baptismal liturgy before the baptism and how I thought the CRC doesn’t take the Lord’s Supper seriously enough, oh, and I probably threw in the comment ‘there shouldn’t be any images of Jesus.’ My dad took a pause after my rant… was quite for a bit and then said, “What happened to you? This is not the Katrina I know.’
Now, I’m not saying that doctrine and being knowledgeable about your faith is wrong. I’m just sending out a caution. Don’t pull a me and take it too far. Once you start to think that you have the answers you become extremely ignorant.

I was heading down a very dangerous path; I needed to stop. I knew I was doing this all wrong, learning to love God. Then it was like a light bulb went on, yes like the cartoons. What do you usually love with? Your heart! Well then, that is what I was missing. This should be a much easier route, for I tend to give my heart a pretty big leeway in my life as is. I was going to take this seriously, I was going to do it right this time, I even bought a book called ‘The Ransomed Heart.’ It told me that the heart is central and that it is a tragedy for anyone to loose touch with the life of their heart.
I agreed/I agree. But since the heart is so central to our faith, to our being, I honestly think that it is where Satan sends his strongest attack.
Maybe this is just for me, but I have found that there is a danger with putting an emphasis on loving God with all your heart. The heart gets muddled so quickly. It is not concrete, it can get overrun with emotions, disappointments, feelings, relationships etc. God’s speaks to the heart, but how are we supposed to hear His calming whisper above the storm going on within a sinful and unsettled heart?
Frustrating. I wish I could love God with my whole heart, I wish I had a ransomed heart, but this is so hard because it is so vulnerable.

Last Sunday I was struck by something beautiful, something profound. Yes, that’s right, profound… I almost ran out of the service to go start writing my book. Good thing I practiced patience and waited five days. Honestly, it isn’t that profound, Calvin probably beat me to it. It just seemed that way at the time because God knocked me over with it using a 2 by 4.
We were singing ‘When Peace Like A River’
When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll, whatever my lot thou has taught me to say, It is well with my soul.
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, let this blest assurance control, that Christ has regarded my helpless estate, and has shed His own blood for my soul.

My soul. Solid. You know what I realised? Even though all my life I will struggle with learning to love God, through my struggles and triumphs, my failings and frustrations, I can be confident of this: It is well with my soul. Once God has a hold on your soul it cannot be tampered with.
The guy who wrote this song, Horatio Gates Spafford, lost all of his children when their boat sank in the Atlantic Ocean. His mind probably could not fathom the reasoning, his heart was broken, his strength drained, and yet he could say, "It is well with my soul,"
Your inner being, you soul belongs to Him, nothing can replace that, salvation is yours, depend on it, and through it find peace.

I’m slowly learning this. I will most likely need to be hit hard numerous of times as a reminder. Learning to love God hurts, but there is peace among the pain; it’s His promise.

oh summer employment...

What was the very first job that you ever had?

Think back, think hard.

Well, there was this time when I was about 7 when my Aunt Grace would pay us a cent for every fly that we would kill in her house... that was kind of like a job, there were a 'whack' of flies (no pun intended).

No actually my very first job that I ever had was being a cat sitter. Though at the time I didn't really see the need. I thought all cats were supposed to be wild and free, catching mice in the barn and running away from human beings. A nice friendly cat who didn't scratch was foreign to me. And yet I cat sat for my grade three teacher Mrs. Luchies. Though the job was tough I did prevail and made a whole $3 for the week. (I made her a cross-stich of her cat for her birthday the next month - extra brownie points!)

What was the very first thing you ever spent your own money on?

Well, other than the 1 cent candies at the corner store, I used my hard earned money on a Nano... yes that's right a Nano. I was one of those kids. One Saturday I rode my super cycle to down town Winchester to buy one, except it wasn't one of the cool Nano's cause they didn't have those in stalk. It was a cheap version of one and it was a dog. Too bad I lost it the next week when it fell into the cracks of the couch, never to be seen again.

In lue of this let me make a toast to being employed, minimum wage being much more than we used to work for, and learning how to spend our money 'wisely.'

french, winks, musicals and more

Fact: at this very moment two guys that I know rather well are going nutso because the Canucks just scored.

Bonjour mes amis!
I know what you are thinking, "Who is she trying to impress us with her knowledge of French?"
If I did impress you, neat, but I am actually just trying to make up for my embarassment this morning in the grade one french class. You see, I am doing my placement hours this week and I am helping out with the grade 1/2 class. This morning during their French lesson I had 9 grade ones all chime in together, "Comment ca va?" And all I could come up with is "Oui." Last time I checked 'yes' is not a satisfactory answer to the question 'how are you?'
So needless to say I crossed off the option of teaching french. At least I got a little chuckles and smiles in response.

Other than that, I have been loving these past days at school. It makes me quite excited for the 'someday.' It has been kinda neat to go back to my old grade school and see it from a whole new perspective. Although it has kinda been a blow to some of my memories, everything is so much smaller than I remembered it and those intramural games at recess that I would live for - not as intense as I made them.

Have I ever told you that I love kids, cause I do. Is it wrong to have favourites, cause I do. It has only been two days, but it is so hard not to loose your heart to a little 6 year old boy who always looks back at you with big brown eyes and gives you a little wink and smile or the 7 year old girl with pigtails who raises her hand to tell you about how many kittens she has at home.

Kids are pretty funny. Today there was a girl in my class who 'hurt her foot.' Apparently, she hurt it during her sleep and woke up and it was sprained. So the whole day she 'limped' around. Why would they pretend to hurt their foot, its no fun! First they have to go through the trouble of limping, second they can't play any of the games, and third its just ridiculous! I remember pretending to be sick... but that's entirely different, I think.

Also this week, we have been practicing for the musical that they are putting on this Thursday called 'Rescue in the Night.' It is based on Daniel in the Lions Den. It has been a treat to watch them practice. They get better everyday, Thank Goodness! The first day you would think that they have never saw or used a microphone in their life. They were constantly screaming into them, tapping them, and putting them too close together so their was a nice big screeching noise.
Kids + Microphones = Splitting Headache
Actually Im giving it a bad rap, those kids are good, especially my little brother Jeremy. He makes a fantastic King Darius. Oh, and also the Kindergartens are the lions and there is the part when they get to eat the three advisors, they kind of get out of hand and actually attack them full tilt. I think its awesome. Also it is so precious to hear them sing out their hearts while wearing tye dye.

Alright then... this is getting a tad bit long, so I'll stop.
Although I do just want to say one more thing. "LETS GO RAPTORS, VC SUCKS!"

That's a wrap.

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!