In which it is Week 19

And I introduce you to the newest member of the family! Isn't he/she beautiful?!

We had our ultrasound today. Great news - everyone is wonderfully healthy and whole! Praise God! We saw the new baby's heart beating, stomach, lungs, ribs, spine, feet, hands etc. He/she is beautiful. It was really active and moving. It was even sucking its thumb so Anne has a new thumb-sucking partner! Anne was on the bed with me and she kept saying "Baby, hi!" and then the technician showed Anne the baby and the baby waved! It was the cutest thing.

 

We have 3 pictures of the new wee Bessey for you. In the first two, it's a profile shot with its arm up and hand near the face - you can see their arm and elbow etc. It looks like their profile is a bit different than Anne's but it's hard to tell obviously.

 

 

And the third picture is the one of its little hand, waving. You can kind of make out the four fingers and thumb of its left hand.

 

I feel like we're hitting one of those growth spurts. The baby is getting bigger and moving around A LOT. Brian can feel him/her move and kick now so it's been very exciting!

 

---

 

You're halfway there! The top of your uterus now reaches your belly button and will grow about a centimetre per week. The fetus measures around 6 inches/ 15 centimetres long from crown to rump and weighs about 9 ounces/ 240 grams.

She has started to swallow amniotic fluid, and her kidneys continue to make urine. Hair on the scalp is sprouting.

Sensory development reaches its peak this week. The nerve cells serving each of the senses -- taste, smell, hearing, seeing, and touch -- are now developing in their specialised areas of the brain. Nerve cell production slows down as existing nerve cells grow larger and make more complex connections. If you're carrying a baby girl, she already has roughly six million eggs in her ovaries. By the time she's born, she'll have about one million.

 

In which I tell a poop story - with apologies

Well, it had to happen eventually. The child is almost 2 years old and we've had surprisingly little poop incidents. The universe decided that I was due.

Bubble bath time. Anne is playing. I stick my hand in the water to find the facecloth. Find it and close my fist around it then realise something.

This isn't a facecloth.

It's ... squishy.

As a matter of fact, it is ...a piece of crap.

Oh. Dear. Lord.

My child has crapped in the bathtub and now I'm squeezing that piece of turd like I'm going to somehow wring the brown out of it.

I shrieked and dropped it. Anne shrieked and cried. I quickly washed my hands and pulled her out of the tub, while hollering for Brian: "Come quick! Anne pooped in the tub! I need reinforcements!". He came in and nearly had to sit down. Then I went to wash up Anne in the sink.

By the time we were done, Brian had cleaned the tub of all poop remnants and put all of the bath toys into the dishwasher and generally taken care of the mess.

I have never wanted him more than I did at that moment. My hero. If Anne wasn't right there, I would have taken him on the bath mat.

 

In which there is a sight to behold

I never get tired of people watching.

Yesterday afternoon, we walked up to our library. While on our way, we stopped at the coffee shop. And there was a sight that just made my day.

An older-to-middle-aged man who looked quite normal. You know, the usual Vancouver guy - sunglasses, khaki shorts, plaid shirt, sandals. But he had on a baby snugly (the kind that looks like a backwards backpack but a baby fits in it and you wear it on the front of you so that you have the baby close but your arms are free). And in that baby snugly?

A dog. A chihuahua, to be precise. With a pair of enormous, pink Barbie sunglasses on.

He had an ice cream cone and he'd alternately take a lick and then give the poochie a lick. The dog's spindly legs were sticking out the bottom leg holes, it's little arms propped up top. The guy would ever so often kiss the dog's head and then offer it more ice cream. And seriously. The dog had on pink Barbie sunglasses. Although to be fair, it was sunny.

And then he and his dog got on a bright orange scooter and motored away together, singing a song.

I love people.

 

In which it is just another happy day

Day of glorious days! I'm sitting on our balcony right now with a view of the North Shore Mountains to my left. The sun is high, there's not a cloud in the sky. Everything is blooming and the world smells new. My feet are bare and there is a fresh orange next to me. Brian is catching a cat nap after a late night reading and Anne is sleeping in a t-shirt and her diaper, thumb tucked securely in her triangle mouth. The baby is moving in flutters, reminding me more every day of his/her presence in our family.

I've just been reading for the past hour. We had an errand-full morning - Brian finished our taxes (and it looks like we're getting a return which is always cause for celebration) while Anne and I puttered around to a few stores. This afternoon, we're headed to the playground and the market, armed with bubbles. Bubbles are the best on sunny days.

Yesterday was my little sister's birthday. She turned 27. (Happy birthday, sister and friend!) The whole family met at a restaurant for supper. Anne was as good as gold for two entire hours. We all ate and laughed and told stories and shared news. We had so much fun. Anne loves her family dearly. As long as we're all around, she's good. Plus, my mum had the foresight to bring in balloons for my sister which kept Anne busy for most of the meal.

Anne especially adores her "Gunkle"; it's one of my joys to watch them together. Adam has such a sweet spot for Anne. They laugh at secret jokes and play tricks. He recently taught her to shrug her shoulders and turn her palms upward when she wants to say "I don't know". So if you ask her something and she's not sure, she just shrugs her shoulders and turns her palms up. It's hysterical. We came home in the twilight. Anne went to bed an hour past her bedtime while Brian worked on taxes and I did our budget/account balancing for another pay day.

"I don't know!"

I came across an old quote I loved from "Anne of Avonlea" the other day that surmised my life lately.

"We make our own lives wherever they are. They are broad or narrow, according to what we put into them, not what we get out. Life is rich and full here...everywhere...if we can only learn how to open our whole hearts to its richness and fullness."

Sometimes I can get so caught up in the heroics, wanting my life to "matter". Really, it always matters.

In which these are the books that have changed my life

Some friends and I have been discussing this so I thought I'd write about it.  I actually find this topic really hard. Certain books mattered a lot at one point in my life and then later, I'd re-read them and be like "Really?"  So it's so cyclical. And it's hard to choose just a few. *sigh* I will probably be editing this list all week long.

The Bible - Obviously.

The Message Bible - I make the distinction because when I discovered The Message in my early twenties it completely changed how I saw the Bible. It became earthy and real to me in a new way.

Anne of Green Gables - this was my favourite book as a child and it had profound influence on me. For instance, Anne loved school and learning so it made me want to learn and read. It made me aware of the power of words and books. This and other books by L.M. Montgomery, particularly her Emily series, made me want to be a writer even at an early age.

The Breastfeeding Book and The Baby Book - these books really helped me out when I became a mother. They completely reinforced a lot of my instincts around breastfeeding and attachment parenting that, I believe, kept me and Anne from a lot of heartache. They were invaluable to me and I always buy them for new mums.

Blue Like Jazz - I could list off a million books from the emerging church that have had profound influence on me. But I bought this book long before it was well-known or cool. And all I thought while I read it was "I'm not alone. I'm not alone. I'm not crazy. Other people think this way too!" It was my introduction to an entire community of other crazy people. Along these lines, I discovered Brian McLaren's "A New Kind of Christian", Tony Campolo's works etc. I became enmeshed with the emerging church very early in its inception and have read it voraciously.

A Primer on Postmodernism - This book by Stan Grenz wrecked us. Brian read it while we were in Texas. We identified so strongly with postmodernism and it articulated our worldview, experiences etc. so well. It articulated what we saw in our generation and beyond, what we wanted in church. Then Brian met Stan Grenz at a conference. They talked for an hour or two and Stan encouraged Brian to follow his passions and convictions wherever they lead. He introduced him to Regent (where he taught) and just poured so much life and thought in just a few minutes. Brian came home, convinced about our next step. We packed up and moved to Vancouver less than two years later. Stan Grenz though, passed away from a brain aneurysm just weeks after their conversation. His impact on our direction was profound, both through his books and his conversations.

To Kill a Mockingbird - I read this book in high school and it was one of the first times that I really understood the impact and power of symbolism. I remember finding some little clue in the text that even my teacher had missed and feeling so powerful, like "I got it!" I loved all of the characters and wore out my copy with repeated readings. It was my first "social justice" view as well. Plus, I wasn't American so the whole area of that world was just intriguing for me.

Pride & Prejudice - This was my first foray into classical literature. It opened up a whole new world. I loved the words and language, the story, everything. I read everything by Jane Austen and the moved onto the Brontes, gobbling up Jane Eyre etc. I then turned to the others, reading the classics long shelved and discovering that, like Ecclesiastes says, nothing is new under the sun. People are people and always have been. Ever since, I've been a huge fan of literature, preferring it over most contemporary fiction.

My Antonia - this really articulated for me the connection between us, our stories and our place. Plus it's in the prairies which always resonates for me. I feel a tremendous sense of connection to the flatlands and always will. It's almost mystical and Willa Cather really captured that for me. Along these lines, W.O. Mitchell is another favourite.

The Divine Conspiracy - This book by Dallas Willard was one of the longest book-reading times in my life. I mean, it took me forever to finish it. I felt like I was chewing and chewing, only able to read a few pages at a time for the impact of it all. It overwhelmed me and blessed me, changed me and challenged me. It was the first time I'd really heard about the importance of discipleship. And the phrase "Could we seriously imagine that Jesus could be Lord if he weren't smart?" really stuck with me. Ever since, whenever I consider the teachings of Christ about peace, love etc. and someone says "This is the real world!" I have to stop and think "Jesus is smart. He's not ignorant or dumb or uninformed. I'm sure he considered that before calling us to this." It changed how I viewed it all. He's not just a belief system, he's my teacher.

God's Politics: Why the Right Gets it Wrong and the Left Doesn't Get It - This book articulated my issues and challenges with politics so well for me. It introduced me to the phrase "a consistent pro-life ethic" and solidified my convictions that the ways of Christ are more than just abortion and gay marriage.  I've never aligned myself with the typical "right wing" stuff. I always felt sidelined when we were living in Texas because I was against the war in Iraq, advocated for immigrants rights and universal healthcare, abhored Rush Limbaugh, got sick to my stomach over Fox News and liked Salon and the New York Times etc. When you're the only one in the entire neighbourhood without a "Bush-Cheney" sign on your front lawn, you feel a little isolated. I have always loved loved loved politics. I come from a very vocal and articulate family that loves to debate. I find it so fascinating, particularly American politics these past ten years or so. Along these lines "Jesus for President" is a whole other can of worms but holds to the same idea. In the world but not of it.

The Shack - This book answered a lot of questions for me but above all, it helped me understand the nature of God, the nature of the Trinity and relationship. One of my favourite lines from this book is "Not all roads load to God. But I will travel any road to find you." I get shivers everytime.

The Irresistible Revolution - This is fairly recent. It's part of a new movement sweeping the church right now. It's inspiring and challenging. I want to argue with it while I'm reading it but boy, is it wonderful. It's like listening to a prophet. It's a lot of stuff that I've always felt in my heart of hearts but he takes it about three steps further. The challenge of being an ordinary radical and of taking Jesus literally has just messed with me. Along these lines "Justice in the Burbs" by the Samsons and the last couple of fiction books by Lisa Samson also mattered.

In which we are in Week 18

Well, I feel fantastic! Took long enough to get here, but I'm now in my favourite stage of pregnancy. I feel gorgeous, healthy, sexy, energetic. Woo hoo!  I've got to admit it: I love being pregnant. Even when I was so sick for four months, I just loved it. I feel so fortunate and love everything (okay, almost everything...) about it. You hear so many horror stories of pregnancy but I think it's pretty great.

I love that my bump is showing now. I dug out my mat clothes and am so excited because they all show off the tummy. Pregnancy is the only time I don't have to suck in all the time - what's not to love about that?

I kind of went into this pregnancy with a bit of sorrow as I don't know if we'll have any more children after this. We haven't decided it we want more than two. Two makes more sense and is more manageable, particularly from a financial standpoint.  We always knew we wanted two at least and then after that, we'd see.  So I have tried to be aware of everything in case it's my last time doing this, to really savour it.  But now I can't imagine this being the last time.   And Anne definitely set the bar high for any subsequent offspring. If this baby is half as easy as Anne was, then I'll have a houseful. For some odd reason, a houseful of chaos and kids kind of appeals to me more and more. Who knew? Honestly, if we could find an affordable home with enough rooms (or at least room for bunkbeds), I'd have four kids, stair-stepped right up. They're not the "hard" part of my life; they're the easy and oasis part, the island of sanity in the midst of the craziness. Plus Brian and I figure we can wrangle them together as long as we have extended family around to back us up. ROFL

But ask me how I feel about that about 2 weeks post-partum and you may get a veeeeeery different answer!

The wee one is evidently about the size of a bell pepper these days. He/she has been very busy, lots of flutterings and movings. It's really active in the evenings. I'm interested to see how they are as the pregnancy progresses. I should have seen Anne's energy coming - she practically did backflips in the womb for hours on end, even when we were all out of room. It'll be fun to compare their activity and see if we've got another one with their Daddy's energy coming along.

I have my ultrasound next week. We won't be finding out the sex of the baby. We like surprises. But it'll be nice to see their little face and body, make sure everything is well, and get a picture.

By the way, Anne has become very attached to her "Baby". My mum bought her this little dollie for Christmas but she hasn't paid it much attention until now. But now she's decided she loves her Baby. We think she might be channeling a bit of the Baby talk - like she's hearing so much about Baby this and Baby that, that she figured this must her. ROFL She asks for her Baby in the morning, wants to carry the Baby everywhere, wants to wrap up the baby and put her to bed. I've seen some really sweet sides of Anne emerge. Like she wants to share everything with her Baby. My mum was over the other night and Anne wrapped Baby up and then wanted Granny to put her into her own bed. But when Granny did that, Anne started to demand her Blankie. Thinking that Anne wanted the Blankie for herself, Granny handed it to her but Anne just as promptly laid it down on Baby like 'I use this when I sleep, so here you go!' No territorial side to her at all. She puts the Baby on the potty and tries to kiss her goodnight. It's pretty cute.

I feel so confident that Anne will be a good big sister. She's such a giver and is very quick to share.  My mum says that it reminds her so much of me. She always jokes around that the reason Mandy and I got along so well when we were small is that if Mandy wanted a toy, I just handed it over. No fuss! LOL

I haven't really narrowed down names at all, nor have I given it much attention. I guess we need to start thinking about that a bit more as well as the transition of Anne's room to the Kids Room. But plenty of time for that.

The announcement went out at work about my pregnancy while I was away. They posted the one year contract position for my job. Everyone is very excited and supportive. A few of the gals in the office that have grown children have almost been rather wistful, like they miss this stage of their life. They are so happy for me and like to tell stories about their own pregnancies or breastfeeding or labours or life, then they say "I can't believe it went so fast...now they're all grown up!"  It made me realise how short this part of our lives really is and how precious.

 

---

Your baby is approximately 6 inches/ 14.2 centimetres long from crown to rump and she weighs about 7 ounces/ 190 grams. Her chest moves up and down to mimic breathing but she's not taking in air, only amniotic fluid.

A mid-pregnancy ultrasound scan is often done sometime in the second trimester (usually between 18 and 22 weeks) to assess fetal growth and development, screen for certain birth defects, check the placenta and umbilical cord and determine whether the gestational age is accurate. During this scan, you might see your baby kick, flex, reach, roll, or even suck her thumb. Bring your partner along, and whether or not he's able to accompany you, make sure you ask for printouts of the baby in various poses.

 

If you're having a girl, the vagina, uterus, and fallopian tubes are in place. If it's a boy, the genitals are distinct and recognisable.

In which it is, in fact, easy bein' green

Happy Earth Day! We celebrated in fine style at work today (we're an environmental community leader) that culminated in all of us getting our own energy-saving lightbulb to take home.
I saw some other folks doing this so I'm copying. Basically, you list out the things that you and your family do to reduce your footprint and impact the environment to celebrate and encourage one another...feel free to do your own!

1. We're breastfeeding crazies. Anne has stopped breastfeeding and I'm still a few months away from the experience with our second but this is just one of the hundreds of benefits of breastfeeding. I breastfed Anne until she was 18 months old and anticipate doing the same with our second. No wrappers, canisters, disposable bottles etc... "If every child in America were bottle-fed, almost 86,000 tons of tin would be needed to produce 550 million cans for one year's worth of formula. If every mother in Great Britain breastfed, 3000 tons of paper (used for formula labels) would be saved in a year. But formula is not the only problem. Bottles and nipples require plastic, glass, rubber, and silicon; production of these materials can be resource-intensive and often leads to end-products that are not-recyclable. All these products use natural resources, cause pollution in their manufacture and distribution and create trash in their packaging, promotion, and disposal."
   
   
   
2. We're a one-car family.
   
3. I take public transit for my commute to work everyday.
   
4. We recycle everything we possibly can - cans, jugs, plastics, paper. We try to keep ourselves to one bag of garbage a week.
   
5. We don't use bottled water, choosing to use reusable bottles and purified tap water.
   
6. We use travel mugs for coffee stops instead of taking the paper cups.
   
7. We try not to use paper towels too much, instead using tea towels whenever possible including for cleaning.
   
8. We try to use green cleaning products instead of harsh chemicals.
   
9. We wash all of our clothes with cold water.
   
10. We don't have air conditioning. (This is only possible in Canada...I couldn't do this if still in T*xas!)
    
11. We pay all of our bills online and choose e-statements from almost all of our bills and statements. No cheques, no paper, no stamps etc.
    
12. We enjoy and support local parks and hiking. 
    
13. We buy fair-trade and organic whenever possible.
    
14. We buy our weekly groceries from a local delivery service. We're friends with the people that work there and so it's nice to support a local enterprise. No driving to the grocery store so that reduces emissions (they take 100 orders out so that's like taking 100 cars off the road), they buy local farmers and its organic and fair-trade.
    
15. We walk to the library, the bank, the video store etc. instead of driving.
    
16. We don't use plastic bags at the grocery store, bringing along canvas or recycled bags instead, when we do go.
    
17. We keep lights off in the house.
    
18. I work for an environmental leader (in fact, we're the first in our industry to be completely carbon neutral).
    
19. We use medications as a last resort. The amount of pharmaceuticals in dumps and water supplies is getting scary. We use natural methods first.
    
20. Support our local markets and farmers.
    
21. We keep our fridge and freezer on a mid-cool setting instead of the coldest.
    
22. We don't turn on the heat or the fireplace unless absolutely necessary, putting on sweaters or socks first.
    
23. We use reuseable containers instead of plastic baggies when possible. When we do use plastic baggies, we reuse them several times.

In which I return with a summary of the festival

Well, I've had a good night's sleep and gotten reacquainted with those that love me best so feel prepared to write about my conference (read: before I forget the best bits).

The conference was called "Festival of Faith and Writing" and it was held at Calvin College in Michigan. As an aside, I never in my life have seen so many big box stores, one after another, with stadium sized parking lots each. I drove for twenty minutes down one road and then down another and all that I saw was Toys R Us, Target, Ethan Allen, Costco, Walmart, Barnes and Noble, DSW, Old Navy, interspersed with the Applebees, Bennigans, Chilis, Olive Gardens and Dennys...well, you get the idea!  I couldn't get over it. I asked around a few times for a park or a walkway or even just a tree but was informed that I could "go shopping" as that's what was done for fun.

So I shopped! ROFL Actually, I didn't shop much. Being five months pregnant doesn't lend itself to good times whilst shopping. But I did hit up my one weakness - Target - to buy summer clothes for Anne. Just can't beat it for reasonable kids clothes; four dollars for a t-shirt or pair of shorts! And of course, I spent quite a bit of time at B&N as well.

Anyway, I had poor travel days. We had vouchers from AA as a result of devilish experience last Christmas and summer with them on our trips to Omaha. So I had to fly from Vancouver to Dallas and then all the way back up to Michigan. Each time, I was stuck in Dallas for almost an entire day. So that's a little tiring but manageable.

You can read more about the festival here, if you like, to see the full speaker list and conference topics. It was so busy! I had highlighted several talks/sessions for each day and then had to make the tough decision about what to actually attend. I tried to have a good mix between the more esoteric sessions (the why) and the practical (the how). I learned so much and really just soaked it all up.

It was a rather hard mix of encouragement and discouragement, often drifting over the line to one or the other. I often felt like it was ridiculous for me to be there. I felt so...green and like a bit of a wannabe. I also felt like my talent couldn't really compare to these wise people. And even if it did, there was a lot of discouragement around the whole "so you wrote a book, now what?" aspect; meaning, the likelihood of actually getting published. But then there was also a lot of encouragement.

I have often doubted myself as a writer because, even though I know I have a small bit of talent in that area and have always wanted to be a writer, it hasn't always come easily. And I don't have a lot of time to write or even if there is time, the mental space or energy to do it well. I think I always thought that writers were just this other "class" of people, always writing, always brilliant. That somehow it was easier for them, ergo, if I was supposed to be a writer, then if should be easier for me.

I think that this is what my big revelation is: everyone feels that way. There are very few people with the raw genius to just write and be brilliant with ease. Almost everyone there - authors, agents, editors, publishers, poets - all abhor the process of writing. They think it's difficult and impossible, akin to being in labour for years. Basically, that was very freeing for me. I liken it to a hockey player. There are a lot of guys that love hockey and love to play. They learn about it, they watch it, they play in a beer league every Saturday night. They know enough about it to have a good time. That's kind of where I've been with writing - dabbling with it, playing there, loving it. But then there are the guys that decide that this is it, they're going to the NHL. So they get up every day at 5 to do drills, they hone everything about their talent until it's risen above anyone else, they practice and practice and practice, making what was good into something outstanding. And that's where I need to go before I'll get there. I need to give writing the kind of attention that one gives a big goal, time and love to the craft of writing. There were a lot of authors that told stories of how they finally decided to take a year or two off from their life and just write full-time. Then, if in two years, they didn't have anything, they would just go back to their real life. But in those two years, they wrote and wrote and rewrote and rewrote, studied and agonized, basically treating their writing not as a hobby but as a full-time job. One guy even taught an entire seminar on why it took him about 18 years to really write his novel as he'd take time for it and then set it aside in despair, just to return a year later and try again, over and over again. It sounds kind of discouraging maybe but it was actually really encouraging to me. i feel like I have the raw talent but I would need to have that kind of discipline and work to make it actually be something worthwhile. It's like someone with a real musical ability - they still practice and work at it. One author lamented how few people are willing to really work at the craft of writing, telling stories about Hemingway or O'Connor writing sentences dozens of times until it was perfect.

I also was comforted to hear that, until you've rewritten it at least 8 times, they don't even want to see it. I learned about writing book proposals, building a platform, writing books, being true to your central ideas. That's the more "how" stuff. I also attended a lot of sessions about "the why" or "way" of it as well. My favourite session was one of Writing Towards Social Justice - it was so inspiring and beautiful. I could have listened to this panel of authors for another hour.

I think the biggest revelation I had though is that I don't just want to write good stories. I want to write  good stories that draw people close to God. I want to write about redemption and forgiveness, grace and faith, love and justice. I don't really have a draw to much non-fiction (and that includes the essays and crap I do a bit of on here), but the power of stories really captivate me.

I have had about 3 ideas stewing for a good while now. I did a lot of praying and outlining about them while there. I also had another new idea that I"m interested in pursuing. I guess I don't really know how it will come together. But I'm seeing the connection even between these new revelations and our decision to get rid of our TV as hopefully that will create even more margin and space for the work required.

I went to a really good concert on Thursday - Derek Webb and Caedmon's Call. Honestly, Derek Webb is probably my favourite artist. It's like listening to a prophet or a poet when he sings. He's really little which can be kind of disconcerting at first but he seems to grow when he sings. I love every one of his songs but it's nice when you're at the show because he does an opener or intro for the song and the why or the how of it which I always enjoy. Plus he's really dry and funny. He did a show opener, full-set, and then joined Caedmons for a reunion and they rocked it out for another two hours. It wound up being almost three and a half hours of straight music, certainly your money's worth.

I also missed my family terribly. I don't know that I'll do something like this again all by myself. I met a few people and chatted a lot but it was still very lonely. I used to like to travel by myself a lot more. I guess that was before ten years of Brian and now Anne. I'd rather be home with them or have them with me. I think one of the best conferences we ever went to was one we attended together as we could talk it all over, go out for lunches, learn and debate and enjoy the experience together. I just wanted someone to share the experience with. I was really lonely on Saturday night so actually went and got my hair cut. I just wanted a trim as its been getting rather dodgy lately with big hanks of hair hanging. I have wavy hair that is very thick and coarse so when it gets too long, the waves are straight on top and then fall to curls, like a bad perm growing out. So I needed it thinned out considerably again and then trimmed so the bounce would return. And while there, the two little girls were a bit bored and we got to chatting. They convinced me to try something new with highlights and it's something alright. They did triangles of bright copper and fire engine red along the top of my head. It's very edgy and different but, after a couple of days, I've become used to it and actually like it. It's a bit more "me" that just blonde highlights or plain red hair. So I might keep it up.

Anyway, I'm very happy to be home. Now i have to go catch up on everything! Back to work tomorrow...back to the "real life" stuff.

 

 

In which I return with a summary of the festival

Well, I've had a good night's sleep and gotten reacquainted with those that love me best so feel prepared to write about my conference (read: before I forget the best bits).

The conference was called "Festival of Faith and Writing" and it was held at Calvin College in Michigan. As an aside, I never in my life have seen so many big box stores, one after another, with stadium sized parking lots each. I drove for twenty minutes down one road and then down another and all that I saw was Toys R Us, Target, Ethan Allen, Costco, Walmart, Barnes and Noble, DSW, Old Navy, interspersed with the Applebees, Bennigans, Chilis, Olive Gardens and Dennys...well, you get the idea!  I couldn't get over it. I asked around a few times for a park or a walkway or even just a tree but was informed that I could "go shopping" as that's what was done for fun.

So I shopped! ROFL Actually, I didn't shop much. Being five months pregnant doesn't lend itself to good times whilst shopping. But I did hit up my one weakness - Target - to buy summer clothes for Anne. Just can't beat it for reasonable kids clothes; four dollars for a t-shirt or pair of shorts! And of course, I spent quite a bit of time at B&N as well.

Anyway, I had poor travel days. We had vouchers from AA as a result of devilish experience last Christmas and summer with them on our trips to Omaha. So I had to fly from Vancouver to Dallas and then all the way back up to Michigan. Each time, I was stuck in Dallas for almost an entire day. So that's a little tiring but manageable.

You can read more about the festival here, if you like, to see the full speaker list and conference topics. It was so busy! I had highlighted several talks/sessions for each day and then had to make the tough decision about what to actually attend. I tried to have a good mix between the more esoteric sessions (the why) and the practical (the how). I learned so much and really just soaked it all up.

It was a rather hard mix of encouragement and discouragement, often drifting over the line to one or the other. I often felt like it was ridiculous for me to be there. I felt so...green and like a bit of a wannabe. I also felt like my talent couldn't really compare to these wise people. And even if it did, there was a lot of discouragement around the whole "so you wrote a book, now what?" aspect; meaning, the likelihood of actually getting published. But then there was also a lot of encouragement.

I have often doubted myself as a writer because, even though I know I have a small bit of talent in that area and have always wanted to be a writer, it hasn't always come easily. And I don't have a lot of time to write or even if there is time, the mental space or energy to do it well. I think I always thought that writers were just this other "class" of people, always writing, always brilliant. That somehow it was easier for them, ergo, if I was supposed to be a writer, then if should be easier for me.

I think that this is what my big revelation is: everyone feels that way. There are very few people with the raw genius to just write and be brilliant with ease. Almost everyone there - authors, agents, editors, publishers, poets - all abhor the process of writing. They think it's difficult and impossible, akin to being in labour for years. Basically, that was very freeing for me. I liken it to a hockey player. There are a lot of guys that love hockey and love to play. They learn about it, they watch it, they play in a beer league every Saturday night. They know enough about it to have a good time. That's kind of where I've been with writing - dabbling with it, playing there, loving it. But then there are the guys that decide that this is it, they're going to the NHL. So they get up every day at 5 to do drills, they hone everything about their talent until it's risen above anyone else, they practice and practice and practice, making what was good into something outstanding. And that's where I need to go before I'll get there. I need to give writing the kind of attention that one gives a big goal, time and love to the craft of writing. There were a lot of authors that told stories of how they finally decided to take a year or two off from their life and just write full-time. Then, if in two years, they didn't have anything, they would just go back to their real life. But in those two years, they wrote and wrote and rewrote and rewrote, studied and agonized, basically treating their writing not as a hobby but as a full-time job. One guy even taught an entire seminar on why it took him about 18 years to really write his novel as he'd take time for it and then set it aside in despair, just to return a year later and try again, over and over again. It sounds kind of discouraging maybe but it was actually really encouraging to me. i feel like I have the raw talent but I would need to have that kind of discipline and work to make it actually be something worthwhile. It's like someone with a real musical ability - they still practice and work at it. One author lamented how few people are willing to really work at the craft of writing, telling stories about Hemingway or O'Connor writing sentences dozens of times until it was perfect.

I also was comforted to hear that, until you've rewritten it at least 8 times, they don't even want to see it. I learned about writing book proposals, building a platform, writing books, being true to your central ideas. That's the more "how" stuff. I also attended a lot of sessions about "the why" or "way" of it as well. My favourite session was one of Writing Towards Social Justice - it was so inspiring and beautiful. I could have listened to this panel of authors for another hour.

I think the biggest revelation I had though is that I don't just want to write good stories. I want to write  good stories that draw people close to God. I want to write about redemption and forgiveness, grace and faith, love and justice. I don't really have a draw to much non-fiction (and that includes the essays and crap I do a bit of on here), but the power of stories really captivate me.

I have had about 3 ideas stewing for a good while now. I did a lot of praying and outlining about them while there. I also had another new idea that I"m interested in pursuing. I guess I don't really know how it will come together. But I'm seeing the connection even between these new revelations and our decision to get rid of our TV as hopefully that will create even more margin and space for the work required.

I went to a really good concert on Thursday - Derek Webb and Caedmon's Call. Honestly, Derek Webb is probably my favourite artist. It's like listening to a prophet or a poet when he sings. He's really little which can be kind of disconcerting at first but he seems to grow when he sings. I love every one of his songs but it's nice when you're at the show because he does an opener or intro for the song and the why or the how of it which I always enjoy. Plus he's really dry and funny. He did a show opener, full-set, and then joined Caedmons for a reunion and they rocked it out for another two hours. It wound up being almost three and a half hours of straight music, certainly your money's worth.

I also missed my family terribly. I don't know that I'll do something like this again all by myself. I met a few people and chatted a lot but it was still very lonely. I used to like to travel by myself a lot more. I guess that was before ten years of Brian and now Anne. I'd rather be home with them or have them with me. I think one of the best conferences we ever went to was one we attended together as we could talk it all over, go out for lunches, learn and debate and enjoy the experience together. I just wanted someone to share the experience with. I was really lonely on Saturday night so actually went and got my hair cut. I just wanted a trim as its been getting rather dodgy lately with big hanks of hair hanging. I have wavy hair that is very thick and coarse so when it gets too long, the waves are straight on top and then fall to curls, like a bad perm growing out. So I needed it thinned out considerably again and then trimmed so the bounce would return. And while there, the two little girls were a bit bored and we got to chatting. They convinced me to try something new with highlights and it's something alright. They did triangles of bright copper and fire engine red along the top of my head. It's very edgy and different but, after a couple of days, I've become used to it and actually like it. It's a bit more "me" that just blonde highlights or plain red hair. So I might keep it up.

Anyway, I'm very happy to be home. Now i have to go catch up on everything! Back to work tomorrow...back to the "real life" stuff.

 

 

In which I have a couple of words of advice

If you book a trip, try to make sure that you don't end up at DFW for 10 hours. Especially when Gina is in Arkansas.

If you are at a conference in the USA, you need to remember that they drive everywhere and nothing is within walking distance and there isn't a sidewalk to be found. So then when you decide to "side of the highway" walk, don't complain when you end up with blisters that make your feet look like they have been attacked by a rabid dog. Just rent a car.

If you are stuck in the midwest for an entire Saturday night by yourself, don't go get your hair cut. And while you're (not) there, don't let the little girls there convince you to "let them try something with highlights".

In which I pretend to be a writer for a weekend

Well, I'm packing my suitcase (slowly) and getting ready for my first few nights away from my baby. I'm headed to the States to attend a writers' conference. I'll be gone Wednesday to Sunday. And I'll be all by my lonesome.

I have a couple of different thoughts about what lies ahead.

First, I'm dreading my time away from Anne. I've never spent the night away from her. I am under no illusions - she'll be fine and I'll be a wreck.  I can't imagine not seeing her for an entire day so 5 days and 4 nights away seem unreal to me.

I'm also kind of scared. This is the first real "me" thing I've done in a long time. Brian bought me the entrance fee to the conference as a combined birthday-Christmas gift. We had a couple of airline vouchers that needed to be used up by June and points for a hotel. So altogether, it's a pretty reasonable deal. It's not the money that's bugging me. Brian bought this experience for me as a way of saying "Your time is coming." Sometimes, I think he feels like our entire life together has been focused on him - his calling, his ministry, his job, his schooling. We moved to the places we moved because it was what was next in his/our ministry together. I remember in particular a couple of times in my career that I had to refuse opportunities in order for us to stay in ministry. Once I was offered my pick of two jobs: one in New York and one in Boston. I turned them down without a thought because I knew that we were "called" to be in New Braunfels. And after we had Anne, we made the difficult to decision to stay on the path that God had called us to - Brian in seminary - which meant that despite my broken heart, I went back to work full-time. I think that feeling has intensified since then; we've made sacrifices for this. He wants it to be worth it so he studies so hard and tries to learn everything he can. But as we've gotten older, our life has become so much more entwined and we don't really see things as "your calling" vs. "mine". It feels tangled together. I've always been a writer and cherished dreams of being able to write as a full-time thing someday or at least publish something worth reading. This is Brian's way of saying "I believe you can and your time is coming." He longs to be back in full-time ministry for so many reasons but I think I'm starting to see that one reason is that he wants to be able to create the opportunity for me to be home with our kids and maybe write more. I love this giving, selflessness of him.

So here I go. Not as a career related thing where I show up to learn marketing or banking or leadership. Not as a mummy. Not as "Brian's wife". Not as a pastor's wife. Just me. Just me and my dreams. There is no point really to this weekend other than for me to hang out with all these smart writer people, get inspired, learn some some and hopefully give some attention to this part of my soul. How intimidating. It can make me feel a little selfish and out of sorts.

What do writers wear? Will they sniff me out as a fake right away? As a wanna-be?

I am also really expectant. I have what us charismatics call "a stirring"...there's something in my soul that says God is going to meet me here in some way. I don't really know how or why, but I have a presentiment, a hunch if you will, that God has something for me. So I have my "spidey-senses" on full alert, open and ready for what that might be.

So I better go finish packing. I have the worst two travel days in the history of mankind (well, maybe not quite, but they still suck) ahead of me. And a three hour time change (drat the conferences that start at 8 AM - that's 5AM my time!!!). I need my sleep. And I have to go gaze at my sleeping daughter to get my fill for five days and four nights of separation.

In which Anne is a helper, a helper, a mighty fine helper

My title is taken from a song that Brian made up for Anne. It goes a little something like this:

Helper, a helper

Anne's a mighty fine helper.

Helper, a helper

She helps!

 

It partners with another tune he made up for bathtime. You mention the word "Bathtime" and Anne immediately starts to dance and clap her hands, ready for all of us to sing along. And if we don't sing, she stops the song until Mummy and Daddy are all singing and clapping together.

It's....time...for.... BATHTIME

Let's get in the bathtub

It's the best time of the day

Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot.

Bathtime, it's the best time,

it's the best time of our day!

And then Anne runs shrieking into the bathroom and takes off her pants, before starting to beg for "bubbles!". When we add the bubbles to the bathwater, she celebrates like it's the first time she's ever seen a bubble in her life "Bubbles! Bubbles!" while she dances with glee.

 

Anyway, the reason for my title is that Anne does, indeed, like to help with everything. The other day, I was having one of those snarly days...you know the kind. Just pass me the Snarly Crown and then everyone has fair warning. So I woke up that morning in a mood and then when I opened the refrigerator door, what did I spy? But an entire bottle of caramel sauce that had tipped over in the door and then leaked everywhere - it was sticky, gooey, congealed caramel on everything and in every nook and cranny. I was not impressed. So Anne and I decided that since Brian was at school, we would have a cleaning day. We put on our grubbies. Anne decided that her fancy-dancy shoes would go best with her sweats, so I let her wear her little white shoes for the fun. Then we attacked the fridge. I'd spray a bit of vinegar and water, then she'd scrub away. We swiffered, we dusted, we organised our fridge. And then we did some baking that afternoon. Usually, while I bake or work in the kitchen, I put her on a chair right in front of the sink, give her a few tupperware bowls and a measuring cup and a spoon and she "cooks" to her heart's content with water.

Here are a few pictures of our fun little helper:

 

 

Why, yes. I do believe in child labour. How did you guess?

 

In which my daughter and my mother are teaching me a lesson

My daughter is one of the most open and welcoming people I've ever known. She simply loves people. I've never seen a little girl so open to others. I can't even sum it up with "friendly" - it's almost beyond friendly. She seems to just love everyone she meets. Anne is so quick to hug, to kiss, to say "hi!" and "how you?". She wants to play with every little kid she meets. She wants to chat with everyone. It hurts my heart when I see people turn her away or ignore her or when little kids take their toys away from her. I just don't want her to know that not everyone is going to love her. I want, somehow, to preserve this inherently Godly characteristic she displays of just loving people. I don't want it stolen from her. I don't want it tempered. I don't even want it thwarted. I simply love how she is so completely in the moment and so open to others, no matter what they look like, smell like, act like, how old they are.

I always joke around that it's that "Brian side" in her coming out. He's so charismatic and welcoming, she just picks up on it. "She's her Daddy's girl!" I'll crow. But I've been wondering lately if that's the case. My parents told me that it reminds them of me. They just can't get over how much Anne is like me, they say. Then when I express disbelief that I was ever that open, ever that loving to everyone, they quickly respond with many, many stories of me in my early childhood years, demonstrating this very nature, of kids that everyone else hated that I played with or times I gave away everything I had. It made me stop and realise that they are right. I was like that. I was hurt a bit by relationships, as most people are, nothing serious but enough that by junior high you don't trust people much anymore. You learn to keep your core hidden. You learn to protect and self-preserve. I somehow have tricked myself into believing that this - this learned behaviour - was more "me" than my childhood self. This learned behaviour of being closed or protective, not trusting others, seemed normal.

I wrote a post a little over a week ago about how I've been experiencing a "personal Pentecost" in my life these past few years. And this is another one of those. I have felt God removing those layers of learned behaviour, stripping away any hardness in my heart, any unforgiveness no matter how trite, any bitterness being dealt with. And in its place, I sometimes feel like I have a whole new heart. I sometimes feel like I am feeling things I hadn't felt in a few years or didn't allow myself to do. It's like a restoration project.

I am finding out how much I simply love people. I have such great tenderness in my heart for others. I want them to feel the welcome of God through me. I want to be the one that embraces them. Sometimes it's disconcerting for me to realise that people I just work with or meet or even just hear about on the news can affect me so much. I feel ...I don't know...like I just love them. I yearn for others to know the Father heart of God. I want to be Jesus' hands and feet for them. I love the people I work with. They are so different from me and yet I really love them. I love to listen to them, love to hear about their lives, love to hang out. I love my family. I have renewed love for my extended family like my cousins. I even made my peace with a lot of people/memories from high school, reaching out and having relationships restored. It's been a crazy few years for me; I am so much more tender in my heart. I have a hard time walking past the needy now. I have a hard time brushing people off. I have a hard time with my own cynicism at times, my own criticalness. I sometimes feel a little raw, like I'm always on the edge of just bursting into tears with love.

For instance, there is a tragic story out of Merritt right now. A 10 year old girl and her two brothers (ages 8 and 5) were stabbed to death by their father. He is on the run right now in the back country of BC, still unfound. I just see pictures of these three babies and I cry. I can't imagine what they have endured. I think the thing that makes it a bit harder is that it seems like the media is whitewashing it a bit. They were home alone. They lived in a run down area of the city, in a low income trailer. They were new to town, their mother evidently moved them all up there to get away from the dad. On the day after this happened, the local news station interviewed a little girl that was in the class with the murdered girl. She said that this little family didn't have any friends. No one would be friends with these kids because they "didn't smell good and they wore weird clothes" plus she said "they hardly ever took a bath". She said she felt bad that she wasn't friends with her because she "thought that Katelyn might have been really lonely. And maybe if I was her friend, she would have been at my house." Ever since then, there's been a steady parade of parents on camera, talking about their sorrow over these children, no one ever again mentioning how lonely they were, how friendless and avoided. Maybe they don't want to admit what kind of a life these children had, the trajectory of tragedy that they were on. I think of these little children, every day going to a school where they had no friends. And then to die in such a gruesome manner at the hands of their own father. I am sick to my stomach. I can't stop praying for them and for their parents. I can't stop wanting to find every dirty little kid and just hug them tight.

I wonder sometimes if I will have the eyes to see these children around our kids, to open our home to the smelly kid with weird parents, to express love to the unloveable.

I think it matters so much to me because it reminds me somehow of my mother. She had a difficult childhood and often refers to herself as "that dirty little kid" that didn't get a shower or a bath or a toothbrush. It hurts my heart to think of my mother in these places and stories that she's told me - I can't even fathom it. I see her, in a snowstorm, crying with cold because her jacket is two sizes too small with a long road to walk home. And I simply ache. I didn't really understand her until she told me more about her life. And then I had a compulsion to know her. To truly know where she came from and what molded her and shaped her. I wanted to know her beautiful stories, yes, but also these things that she had forgiven and released to Jesus. Most people would never know this about her. She is so whole and healthy, so beautiful, so full of life and love, that they can't even fathom the places she has walked.

My mother has such deep wells of compassion in her. She always hugged the dirty kids that were in my class growing up. She was quick to love people. She made friends with people that embarrassed me as a teenager - their teeth missing, their odd smell, their filthy homes - why couldn't she have "normal" friends, I fretted. She just seemed to be okay with "the least of these" and I never understood it until now. She just loved them. Whether it was her past or her new life in Jesus or a combination of both, she just loved. She almost seemed to carry an air of innocence about her, like my daughter has, a wide openness to the world.

The older I get the more I see how holy that is. I used to not understand it, maybe because i had tried to train that very tendency out of my own self. But now I see it as the greatest thing I could have in my life. It's not easy and you are more open to hurt, more open to disappointment, more raw. But I think - I think - I'd rather go through life a little wounded than in a fortress, I'd rather be hurt or disappointed or have to forgive than never take the risk. I'd rather cry when I watch the news than turn away, unmoved.

In a way, it's like Jesus is bringing me back to myself. Peeling off the layers of hardness, the 'self-preservation', the cynicism, the bitterness and making me open to people with my daughter and my mother as an example ever before me.

In which we are in Week 16

It's week 16 already. Where has the time gone?

The biggest news right now is that I have now only thrown up once this week. That's 6 - count'em, SIX - days without throwing up.  I think I did okay for a couple of weeks but after about week 10 I was done with it. Plus, it was a different kind of sick. With Anne, I would be going along, just fine, and the WHAM! it would hit me, I'd get sick and then go on my merry way. This time, I have been sick all day, every day, always feeling on the verge of throwing up, throwing up several times a day and generally being utterly and absolutely exhausted, coupled with headaches and nosebleed. Quite the auspicious beginning! But it seems to be winding down right now.

I've pooched out rather considerably this week. I am in maternity pants now but still not tops. The good news is that my mat clothes still fit. I was kind of worried about it as I put on some weight again this winter. When I went back to work, I had to quit the gym and so i've put on a bit of weight. i can't even blame it on baby weight from Anne because I actually lost all my baby weight in about 2 months. This is just my fault. I was wondering if my old clothes would fit because I was really skinny when I got pregnant with Anne. But they fit...sometimes a bit too tight but eh? What'll you do?

I've told my boss about the pregnancy. That went very well. She's very supportive and encouraging, even if she is tired of recruiting, poor thing.  But I'm not someone that usually makes a big deal about this stuff at work so I haven't actually told anyone else. I don't know how much longer I can fly under the radar on it. One co-worker knows (she's actually a good friend now) and another one has figured it out. She was standing next to me yesterday and suddenly her eyes just about popped out of her head. She looked at my pooch and looked at me and then at my pooch and then at me and then we just locked eyes for a minute. She knows. I didn't go to her afterwards but she figured it out, all right. So it's just a matter of time. I'm not really worried about the miscarriage risk anymore but nor do I like to be the "baby fever girl" that only talks about that stuff. I have a couple of huge projects on the go right now and so I don't want the momentum to wane just because I am going on mat leave in August/September for a year. I think my days of secrecy are over though.

I wonder sometimes if these are my last months of working? I'd love to be able to stay home with our kids until they're in school. So maybe after this one, I can do that? I try not to think about it too much in case it doesn't happen. I'd rather plan for the worst than be disappointed by my expectations. So we'll wait and see. We definitely want that to be the case but we'll see, I guess. A girl can dream.

---

Your baby is now about the size of an avocado (about 5 inches / 11.6 centimetres long from crown to rump and weighing approximately 4 ounces / 100 grams). In the next three weeks he'll go through a tremendous growth spurt, doubling his weight and adding inches to his length.

In or out of the womb, babies are playful creatures. Yours may already have discovered his first toy -- the umbilical cord -- which he'll enjoy pulling and grabbing. Sometimes he may even clutch it so tight that less oxygen gets through, but don't worry -- he doesn't hold onto it long enough to harm himself. The circulatory system and urinary tract are in full working order, and he's inhaling and exhaling amniotic fluid through his lungs.

 

Sometimes, when you move suddenly, you may a feel a slight pain in your sides. Ligaments on each side of your uterus and pelvic walls are stretching as your baby grows. It's normal to feel some pain, but if it continues for a few days or escalates, talk to your midwife.

In which there is a connection between social justice and my TV

So we're getting rid of our TV. Right before NHL playoff hockey starts.  

Brian and I bought a new TV when we moved into our condo last August. We have a very tiny living area that can, on its best day, only be described as "cozily narrow".  We didn't have room for our old TV so we were "forced" to buy a flat screen TV which we mounted above the fireplace. I liked it up high because I didn't want it to be in Anne's line of sight. Then we were bamboozled into HDTV, spending a rather sinful amount of money when it was all said and done on a new flat-screen TV, HDTV box, cables and a swivel mount plus the cable/HDTV bill every month.

And it's bugged us ever since.

Almost everytime we look at that TV, we get mad. Rarely a week goes by that Brian doesn't say "I just wanna get rid of that thing." And I say "I hate that we spent money on that thing!" We have a few shows we watch. Brian's big thing is sports; he simply loves sports and relaxes by watching sports. I like British lifestyle shows like Relocation, Relocation. We both love The Daily Show. We don't really watch any sitcoms anymore. My only reality show is Biggest Loser. But some nights, when we're tired, the TV gets turned on and we just zone out for hours. It's not pretty but it's "there" and so it's on. Thankfully, Anne has never liked the TV. She never watched Baby Einstein and the only show she even gives the time of day is Sesame Street if Elmo is on.

Over the past few years, we've slowly made changes to our lifestyle, as part of our ongoing effort to live counter-culturally, to live according to what we believe Jesus taught in scripture, to live in our world like we imagine Jesus would. If Jesus went to work at my place every day, how would he work? If Jesus had my week, how would he spend his time? If Jesus did my shopping and cooking, what would change? So we try to be open and welcoming to people. We try to look them in the eye and say hello. We try to get to know our neighbours (that's always slow going...).  We only have one vehicle - and it's paid off. We take transit whenever possible instead of driving.  We don't buy things we can't afford. We don't have TVs in our bedrooms. We've slowly gotten rid of a lot of house crap (even though we still have a storage unit - that's the peril of moving from a 3 bedroom house to a 2 bedroom condo that is half the size - but now I'm eyeing it for demolition..). We recycle. We try not to use plastic bags anymore, instead bringing canvas ones from home. We support missionaries. We have "adopted" an AIDs orphan in Rwanda (which means we send money every month and have her picture on our fridge and send letters once a year or so). We donate to the Union Gospel Mission for holiday meals. We try not to buy into the reality TV, celebrity obsessed culture, caring more about Britney Spears than our extended family. I try to remain connected to people that I've loved like cousins, university friends, Texas friends etc., making time for relationships. We don't own a "gaming system" like Playstation. I don't own a cell phone.

There's nothing wrong with those things - it's just that we didn't want to buy-in to this idea that you *need* them to be happy/successful/fulfilled/survive.

A book I read recently called "Justice in the Burbs" by Will and Lisa Samson has really synthesized a lot of it for me. It's a brilliant book that talks about justice without being patronising or condescending or "preachy". It's a mix of fiction, nonfiction and meditations about the theology of place - that wherever you are, God is at work in the cause of justice. I can't recommend it enough. Not all of us are called to "go"..but we are all called to care about the work of God where we are. So much of church is designed to keep us within the four walls instead of OUT in the community, witnessing through our lives, loving people and generally being the "hands and feet of Jesus".

It's been very inspiring for us. We have spent a lot of evenings (sans TV) talking about this. What does it mean to live redemptively in our culture? What does it mean to be "in the world" but not "of it"? What's the line between living missionally and being a crazy, "fringe" type of disciple that makes everyone else feel uncomfortable and judged?  If you aren't called to move to the downtown eastside, then how can you live out God's commandments on justice in your own context? If you aren't called to live in intentional community (or as a new monastic) but are called to your neighbourhood, how do you live there like Jesus would?

I sometimes get really overwhelmed by social justice issues and then I just get paralyzed. I pray about it, I talk about it, I read about it...and then I do nothing.

Because how do you know where to start?

If I start fair-trade focus, then how much money is that going to cost me? Then that leads to needing to eat organic because of all of the chemicals and pesticides in food production. Then let's talk about meat processing. Oil consumption. Water usage. There's issues with cleaning agents. What about clothing? Do I need "new" clothes or should I just reuse wherever possible? How many toys does a kid need? Are paper towels a misuse of creation? Then I start thinking about things like homeless and poverty, drug use and prostitution. I care about peace. I care about the refugees and immigrants amongst us.  I care about equitable healthcare in the US. I want to help at women's shelters. I want to help with literacy. I'd like to adopt internationally. I'd like to be a foster parent.  I'd like to work with teenage girls again so maybe Mercy Ministries needs some help? Then there's the crises in Darfur, AIDS in Africa, human trafficking...the list goes on. And so I can't "pick" something and I already feel "too busy" so I just continue to do small things that don't seem to matter to anyone but me and my family. I feel like I'd need to turn my whole life on its head and even then, would it ever be enough?

But we are slowly trying to live our values about the heart of God for people more and more. Some of the decisions we've made are above. A few new ones that are spinning in our heads this week are about how we eat and consume and spend our time. We have become convicted about our eating habits and are now investigating better ways to eat which isn't just the "how" but the "where" and "what". So we're looking into local farmers and markets again, trying to buy from ethical food companies, supporting local businesses, trying to cut out eating so much meat...basically putting our money where our mouth is. We don't want to eat crap and we want to support ethical, fair-trade companies.

We have grown tired of the consumerist nature of our culture, where every free moment is spent at the mall or shopping for stuff we don't need. My faith dictates not just how I spend my money but where and even "whether". We've always been givers, following in the tradition and teaching of my parents who are tremendous givers. We always joke around that you "can't balance the chequebook of a tither". So that value being instilled me has lead to the fact that I guess I just don't want to spend anymore time at the mall than necessary. I'd rather spend my money more wisely and "God-fully", even saving it or being a better steward.  I'd rather us spend our time outside, going for walks, enjoying the beauty of creation that we are surrounded with.

But what do I do when I have an afternoon off and it's raining? I take Anne and we go to Winners Homesense just to browse around, Tim Horton's in hand, just like everyone else. Values, shmalues.

We have really been thinking about this one lately because of Anne and our new wee one (arriving in September), actually. She just wants to be outside all of the time. She loves the outdoors. If it's been more than a couple hours since she was outside, she goes and get her shoes and mine and then proceeds to put them right in front of me. Then she gets her coat on (crooked, just one sleeve) and her toque on her and then stands at the door saying "Keys!" She would rather be outside than anywhere else. She could play outside all day. She'll keep herself busy in a completely empty field for hours. My Dad made an off-hand comment this week that "Kids just naturally want to be outside. It's only if we put them in front of the TV or put them in front of the computer that they grow to prefer that. They'd always rather ride a bike, wouldn't they?" That really convicted me. We live in such a beautiful place with great opportunities to be outside - hiking the mountains, swimming in the ocean, lots of parks and trees and pools.

We have a couple of friends that really have inspired us as well. They have a son about the same age as Anne. They live their values better than most Christians I know - and a lot of those values are Christian ones! They were quick to invite us over for supper to their home.  They moved into a gritty area of town because they value diversity and being a force for change in their community. They work for companies that they admire for ethical reasons. They don't own a TV. They hike and bike and snowshoe as a family. They are vegetarians. They open their basement suite to people of reduced income. They work in their community for cleanup days. We have been so blessed by our friendship with them and really inspired. It's helped us see that we don't have to "save the world" to be effective; we can live our values in a million small ways every day.

I guess it comes down to what the Samsons called "thinking and living in keeping with God's heartbeat of justice".

I am wary of writing about this because I don't want to sound "preachy" or elitist. Because I feel like I've failed in a lot of this. And part of the reason why I care about it so much is because I feel my own inadequacies sharply.

 

So our next step is to get rid of our television. Most of the info we can get online anyway. We can still catch important stuff (like the playoffs) with friends and family or at the pub. We can watch DVDs on our computer, if we want to watch a documentary or a movie. So it's not complete deprivation by any stretch.

I guess I just don't want to waste my time with TV anymore. It's so easy to just zone out with the TV on for a few hours every night. It zaps the energy from the room and the attention. We've purposely had the TV off all weekend to see how we "would make it". And we didn't miss it. We talked a lot more. We read a lot more. We went out for walks even though it was raining. I'm sure there will be moments when I will call my sister up and say "Let me come over and watch the Biggest Loser!" with desperation but I'm hopeful. I don't really want Anne to have "her shows" or feel like TV is the best friend she has. I don't like the obsession with TV and celebrity. I think I'd rather be a bit out of it or even a bit bored than do this anymore.

I'll get an ad up this week and we'll take a loss on it. It's practically brand new but we can't take it back so we'll lose money on it. Not cool. But then it'll be done. I'm not saying we won't ever have a TV again at all. We just don't want one right now. And that stupid flat-screen TV and HDTV just bug me too much to enjoy anymore.

But he's already made it plain how to live, what to do,
   what God is looking for in men and women.
It's quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbor,
   be compassionate and loyal in your love,
And don't take yourself too seriously—
   take God seriously.

Mich 6:8

 

In which we are in Week 15

Most exciting news this week? I actually felt the baby move!

Man, there is NOTHING like those first little flutters. It's completely surreal and all of a sudden, I was overcome. "You're really there, aren't you?"

We had our doctor's appointment this morning. Poor Anne was so patient - an hour in a doctor's office with no toys and blaring R&B music? She was a trooper. More than Brian who kept repeating his intent to throw the speakers and saying "Seriously? Toni Braxton? At that volume? In the morning? Seriously?"

Anyway, had a good appointment. Nothing more fun than a cervical swab as my sisters can attest. Ladies? Yeah, I thought so.

We did hear the wee one's heartbeat which simply made my day. It took a while to locate and so I had the few minutes of "Please Jesus Please Jesus Please Jesus" before it rang out, loud and strong. *exhale* 153 beats a minute so rather high. I've heard the old wives tale about it being a girl if it's over 140 but we'll see. Anne always rode the fence between 145 and 155.

Everything else is good. I haven't barfed for TWO WHOLE DAYS. Maybe a light at the end of the tunnel?

 

---

Where the wee one's at right now:

You may not know it when it happens, but your tiny tenant frequently gets the hiccups, which babies master before breathing. Babies don't make any sound because their trachea is filled with fluid rather than air.

Although you've probably gained between 5 and 10 pounds / 2.2 - 4.5 kilograms, the fetus weighs in at around only 2.5 ounces / 70 grams. It measures nearly 4 inches / 11 centimetres long, crown to rump. Legs are growing longer than the arms now, fingernails are fully formed and all the joints and limbs can move. You may be able to find out the sex of your baby by ultrasound now, since the external genitals may be developed enough that the ultrasound technician can tell you if you're going to have a boy or a girl.

If the idea of having a baby seems so remote, nothing makes it feel more real than feeling your baby move for the first time. Most mums-to-be discern movement (called quickening) between 16 and 20 weeks. If you've been pregnant before, you'll feel things earlier rather than later. What you may first think is a rumbling stomach may be your baby doing some back flips. Make note of when you first start feeling the baby and tell your midwife at your next visit.

In which I am experiencing a personal Pentecost again

I wrote an email to a girlfriend recently and made the offhand comment in response to her questions that I have felt lately like I'm "coming into myself again". The "again" is because the first time was in my late teens or early twenties, just ten years ago. I went away to university and, for the first time, became very comfortable with myself. I had grown up as a bit of a people pleaser and therefore, had an abominable (still not conquered entirely) tendency to be passive aggressive instead of assertive. I didn't know how to be myself and to be honest, didn't even know who "myself" was. I had become committed to the Lord at about 15 or 16 but grappled with living that faith out in an authentic and truthful way. For instance, if I had a boyfriend (and I was one of those girls that always had a boyfriend), I listened to their music and did their stuff and hung out with their friends, even losing all of my friends when we'd break up because they were his friends, not mine. I don't know that I really had my own group of true friends until university. But in those years in university, I found some incredible girlfriends and, what's more, I came to know God in a real and true way. I had a true God-encounter that was sustained and ongoing; I grew immensely and settled my heart quite a bit. It was almost like my own personal Pentecost, my time of renewal and rebirth and even sending out. It was also during this season that Brian and I fell in love.

I have felt over the past couple of years, even as far back as 2003, that same stirring again. I've learned so much and I don't know that I can really do it justice but God has revealed a few things to me or resolved them in my heart. It's almost felt like another rebirth, ten years later.

For instance, I've learned that I need to be authentic and real. I have felt (and articulated before) this sense that sometimes I don't belong in church. Like sometimes, people there just don't "get me" except for a few other misfits. It was like there was this type of girl, type of woman, type of wife and now type of mother that you were supposed to be and I rather felt like a round peg in a square hole. And this used to really bug me. I wanted to fit in. I wanted to be the nice Christian girl. I kind of wanted to be someone who posted their Facebook status as "Sarah just loves Jesus more and more". I kind of wanted to be a bit more simple, a bit more black and white if you will, because it would be so much easier and neater. I have rarely felt like my life is terribly neat and tidy, much like everyone else, I suspicion. So a lot of my time in church was spent trying to put on a mask or an act, say the right things, respond the right way. I inevitably flubbed up and then people were left blinking, like "What the heck?" as I straightened my mask again. I think I was genuine in my desire and it was pure-hearted but it was misguided. I would get tired because I was constantly adjusting who I was to my audience. I would be absolutely in wonder at someone like Brian who was the same person, no matter where he was or who he was with. I remember sometimes being almost embarrassed because he was too honest, too forthright, too self-deprecating. Why didn't he feel the need to inflate and exaggerate his own greatness like I did?

But these past few years, I've decided to strive for authenticity. Sometimes that's been very messy and it's backfired. Sometimes I've blown right past authentic into arrogant know-it-all. And other times, it's made people uncomfortable because they liked the old Sarah or they just aren't used to someone being honest about their journey, their questions, their life. I guess I just got rather tired of behaving properly and decided to embrace the journey God has me on. I remember Brian one time saying "God doesn't want you to behave right; he wants you to be the right person" meaning someone that doesn't have to act loving - they truly love people. Someone that doesn't have to act nice because they are truly kind to others. Someone that doesn't have to fake believing God because they truly are resting in trust. It's a transformation of the person you are inside. If you're there, great. If not, don't fool yourself (something I am quite good at). I have such a long way to go but I've become more at peace with my difficulties, my places of messiness, my spots of inconsistencies, my shortcomings and even my differences. I've become more aware of the beauty of the unique and less attracted to the opaque performance. I've become more open with myself and God about those things, seeking him above all else. Seeking his name above my own.

So sometimes that's rather messy. But other times, it's positively glorious.

I don't do it really well to be honest. I spent a lot of years in performance-based jobs and churches and even a few relationships/friendships where I was rewarded for what I did or how I acted as opposed to who I really was. I always felt like things were rather ...conditional. I could lose everything in a heartbeat if they really knew what I was like, I thought, if they knew how far I had to go. (Sidenote: it has occured to me that it is ironic that someone who was raised in church and knows the drill/the language/the game still feels alienated from most modern churches. After all, if I feel that way how do people that don't go to church or never have or never will feel? If I feel misunderstood and like I don't fit, how much more for them? That'll make you think about how we do/are Church at 3 in the morning...) Anyway, now I try to surround myself with people that are authentic already like my family or true friends and learn from them. But sometimes I slip back into the "shiny happy Jesus people" default mode. Usually when I'm at church and I find myself much more comfortable in the mask that in my vulnerable truth.

Don't get me wrong - a lot of times, I am a true shiny, happy Jesus person. But I need to do it with my gifts, my priorities, my personality, my journey instead of copying someone else's.

I'm okay with being me. I'm okay with complexity. I'm okay with different. I'm okay with a journey being as valuable as the destination. I've realised that God is usually more about the how of our lives than the what or the where. I've learned that I love difficult questions and philosophy and theology, literature and poetry, art and music. I'm okay with the fact that I like politics and religion, debate and discussion. I'm okay with the fact that a lot of church ladies - and their husbands - don't get me or my marriage. I'm okay with being a bit more open to others. I'm okay with living missionally instead of in the Christian-homeschool ghetto. I don't live in a lot of fear anymore. I've learned that God is more open and welcoming than I previously thought. I've learned that people really different from me (like those church ladies) are endless sources of fun and learning.

I'm trying to be okay with being misunderstood but that's still a work in progress, I'm afraid. People-pleasing is a deep root to pull out.

There are a lot of other things God has ushered into my life over the past 3-5 years that I see coming to fruition these days. Everything from how I view church, community, emerging theology, postmodernism, missional living, true Christianity, education, politics, family, self - you name it. This is just one that has been in my mind a lot lately.

And I'm pretty sure that these shifts that seem subtle at the time add up to big changes. And that it goes on and keeps happening over and over again in your life as you grow and change and age. What a relief that we don't have to die the same people we are today!