Holly

Holly looked down at her favorite sneakers sliding in the fresh mud. She could feel it squishing against the worn tread. The tread was her favorite part about those sneakers. It came up over the toes and heels. She was certain this made her run faster. It didn't matter that the blue canvas was worn and faded, and the pictures on the sides had started to rub off. These sneakers were special. She could still remember the day Mom had bought them at Stedmans for her older sister. Sometimes she felt as though it was her feet that were measured that day, and she remembered looking down proudly at her new sneakers as she walked over the creaky wooden floors and out of the store. But it hadn't been her. She hadn't needed new sneakers for school. It was Heather who was five. She had picked out the Bubblegummers, as the sneakers were called. But all that didn't matter - the Bubblegummers were hers now.
She looked around at the dusky sky, the sound of the harvester droning in the distance and then coming closer. Sometimes it frightened her, but she knew she was safe. Daddy was with them. He knew everything and he would keep her safe.
"Ok, girls," said her mom, "don't go too far from us. And try to find the whole ones." Mom and Aunt Mimi each held a burlap bag. It was fun being outside after bedtime with everybody. They waited until Daddy came home from work and they'd finished supper before piling into the car and driving to the field. She looked down and spotted one. It was a beautiful carrot, even though it was still covered in mud. Then she saw another and another. She ran from carrot to carrot, scooping them up into her arms until she couldn't hold even one more. Then she ran to Aunt Mimi and tried to get them all into the bag. The burlap felt scratchy against her skin. Heather ran over with a handful of carrots to put in. She had her thumb in her mouth, so she could only gather the carrots with one hand. Holly didn't think it was strange for a six-year-old to be still sucking her thumb. But she didn't really understand what Heather saw in it. She had tried it, but her thumb always tasted funny, and then it made her thumb all wet, which was annoying. Even Hannah, who was only four, didn't suck her thumb. But she did like to cry to Mommy about everything. Holly and Heather found this quite amusing and often thought up ways to trick Hannah. They weren't trying to be mean, it was just so fun to be able to trick someone. Holly, especially liked feeling like a big kid - like she knew more than someone - even if it was only Hannah.
Before long, the bags were full. Daddy threw them in the trunk, and they all climbed into the Oldsmobile. Holly snuggled up next to Aunt Mimi who had Hannah on her lap. This time, Holly decided, she would fall asleep on the way home so she could get carried into the house and tucked into bed. She could barely hear the swish, swish of Heather's "norner," a piece of a satin blanket all folded up into a point. Heather rubbed it back and forth against her lip as she sucked her thumb.
Then her parents started to sing. That was the best part about car rides. Her mom's clear crystally voice with her dad's harmony was about the most beautiful thing she could think of. "I strolled along the road one day..." Mom began. Then Daddy joined in and the car was filled with warmth and peace. "...and it was not the narrow way. I met a Stranger. He spoke to me. He said my child where goest thou. I said I seek the road just now to worldly pleasure, along the way. Turn back my child, for the way is very steep. The things you'll find up there, you cannot keep. The way is filled with thorns. And the things you'll find are cheap. Turn back my child, come home with me." Holly's eyes closed. She could feel Aunt Mimi singing too. She felt completely safe and happy. Daddy was driving. He was the best driver in the world. No matter what happened, he would know what to do and how to fix it. The dirt roads were starting to look familiar again as they started the last verse of the song. "...And then He gently took my hand. He lifted me from sinking sand. He said, My child believe in me. And then such beauty I beheld. I'm sure that I could never tell. He said, My child, come home with me..." Holly wanted to know the man in the song. She knew it was Jesus. He seemed so gentle, so loving. When she tried to picture Him, she could only see Grampy. Her mom's dad had come to Nova Scotia as a missionary from Ireland before her mom was born. He was the most gentle, most wonderful man Holly could think of. He had an Irish accent and he always wore suits or, on casual days, dress pants, a button-up shirt, and a sweater. He had never preached to her - she had heard him preach at church and he was powerful and real. But at home he just played with Holly and her sisters. He made wonderful paper airplanes and could make a hula hoop "come back." He jumped over chairs and gave her piggyback rides. What made him like Jesus, like the man in the song, Holly thought, was not what he said or did, but what he was. The way she felt when he was around - sure and calm and loved.
The car pulled down the tree-lined driveway. Holly was mostly asleep, but still aware enough to know they were home. She kept her eyes closed and her breathing slow. Daddy lifted her out and carried her up to her room. She struggled to stay "asleep" as Mommy took off her sneakers and tucked her under the covers. Soon the room was still and Holly looked over at Hannah sound asleep in her bed. "Why couldn't I really be asleep, like her," she wondered, "instead of having to pretend?" Holly sometimes felt that her whole life was a big pretend. She tried to figure out how she should think and feel about things, she so wanted to please everyone. Sometimes she felt jealous of her sisters, who seemed, not only content with who they were, but they really just were - without trying. Heather was so sure of herself and always knew what she thought about everything. Sometimes Holly just copied Heather because that was easy, but it didn't feel right - and Heather hated it. She wanted Holly to think for herself - to have her own opinions. Holly wished she could. Even Hannah seemed to know who she was. She was the cute one. She didn't have to think about how she should act; she was just herself without even trying. At least that's they way it seemed to Holly.

marcella kathleen

gentle and fiesty at the same time

a lover of flowers, and all things beautiful and delicate

a helper

loves to sleep late, all cozy in her fashionable pyjamas (jimajins!)

fingernails like Barbie!

does not take second place, even though she is born second - she is a true leader when her big sister isn't around

learning to laugh at herself, which is harder than it seems

she is a true cuddler and snuggler

a diligent learner - follows directions wonderfully

she may push you away at first, but she is fiercely loyal

conscious of her appearance; worried about the opinions of others

appreciates the simple things in life, causing others to appreciate them too

she has an infectious smile (grin)

ashlin glenn

loves fiercely

she draws you into her world

full of wonder at the world around her

confident

she loves to laugh and make others laugh

intelligent jokes, like puns, are her favorite

she feels things so deeply

a lover of all animals

unconcerned about the opinions of others

unconscious of her beauty

crazy for horses

the life of the party - she carries "fun" in an invisible backpack everywhere she goes

weakness = strength

"...God left him, to try him, that he might know all that was in his heart." 2Chronicles 32:31 This has been my experience lately. I look in the mirror and I am humbled by what I know is inside me. There is no room for pride when I know my weakness - my failings. I don't believe that God wants me to become acquainted with my weaknesses to humble me or berate me, but to strengthen me!! No one is so strong as one who knows her weakness. In God's sight, pride in self is the greatest failing of all. He does not want me to be self-loathing or to despise myself - He only wants me to be knowledgable of what is real.

Lately, I have been struggling again with anxiety. I can relate it to some degree to stress in my life. But mostly, I am certain it is a weakness that can serve to lead me daily to the only One who can calm every storm. I am convinced that it is not circumstances or even actions that are God's will in my life, but a "heart-set" (as opposed to mind-set) that does not change with changing circumstances. It is always God's will that I choose peace in every struggle. The way I respond internally is of much more importance to Him than what I do physically or outwardly.

So why do I respond the way I do to trouble or stress? Why can't I just trust in the God I know. My very physical response to stress - anxiety - is proof positive of my human failing. I can never "have it all together." I will never be perfect while I am living on this earth. And yet, all these things that cause me to turn to Jesus - to the "lover of my soul" must be celebrated. And so, don't offer me anti-anxiety pills - give me JESUS!! And when I am struggling with this physical body of mine again tomorrow - give me Jesus again tomorrow!

motherhood

Now that Ashlin and Marcella have gone back to school, I have been spending a lot more quality time with Laurie. She is such a funny kid. Just now, she found a purse full of pennies, dumped them out on the floor and said, "this is a billion of money!" The other day, I french-braided part of Marcella's hair before school. Laurie wanted me to do hers too, so she said, "Mommy, I want you to braid my hair in french too!" Her awareness of the world around her is growing and her phrases sound a lot like me. I love viewing the world through her eyes. I can't believe how quickly she is growing up. Already I am learning to loosen my hold to let her become the person God created her to be - with her own personality. And she is only 4!!! I pray that God will give me wisdom and patience enough to obey Him in letting my daughters grow into the young ladies that He has created. This is probably the hardest part of motherhood - letting go little by little so it is not all at once.

the sanctuary

"In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord: my sore ran in the night and ceased not: my soul refused to be comforted. I remembered God, and was troubled: I complained, and my spirit was overwhelmed. Selah.......And I said, This is my infirmity: but I will remember the years of the right hand of the most High. I will remember the works of the LORD: surely I will remember thy wonders of old. I will meditate also of all thy work, and talk of thy doings. Thy way, O God, is in the sanctuary: who is so great a God as our God?" Psalm 77:2,3,10 - 13

Verses 2 and 3 are somewhat how I feel lately - overwhelmed. I feel stress in almost every area of my life. I am not enough. I cannot hold it together. Everything I put my hand to turns sour. I fail. Some of these feelings are hormones; or, I guess, the hormones make the little feelings stronger and more difficult to push away. I know the way I should act/feel and yet I fail. I know the "type" of person I want to be - and I am not.

Then come the answers in verses 10 - 13. Remember God. Think about Him. Get your focus off of yourself and on the LORD. Sounds simple enough. But try putting it into practice. Truly, a person who is feeling sorry for herself wants only to think of herself. And yet the answer doesn't change. God says, You want peace, joy, strength? Cease from focusing on yourself; think on Me. Come into the sanctuary of My presence and rest.

I am not blessed when I cease to have struggles or difficulty. Jesus says I am blessed when I hunger and thirst after righteousness. (Matt.5:6) And so, today, I consider myself to be blessed indeed.

truck lights

I was listening to the radio on my way home from work last night; I always listen to CBC radio on the way home, and Thursdays are my favorite - Vinyl Cafe. Yesterday, it was about this man who came in the 50's to northern Canada as a missionary from France. It was before telephones or television up there, so he became very close to the people. On the program, a poem was read that this man had written called, "Truck Lights." The poem was like a story about a trip he took with one of the village elders. At one point on the long dark drive, the elder said, "You know, driving a truck is a lot like faith in God." The author pondered this statement for a while before asking what he meant. Basically, what the elder explained was that when they started the truck and turned on the lights, they could only see 100 feet in front of them and there was still 100 kilometers of darkness between them and their destination. As they put the truck into gear and drove, however, the lights continued to light up the road in front of them - just enough road for them to go further. They never saw the whole 100 kms lit up at once. That, he said, is like having faith in God. He never shows us the end before we get there. He just lights enough for us to take another step. Then, when we do, our way is lit from there.
I thought this was a brilliant analogy. (pun intended). God certainly doesn't expect us to have blind faith. However, He doesn't light up our entire path so we can see the end at the beginning. He gives us just enough understanding/faith/light to see our next move. I liked this right now because my life is a bit up in the air at the moment. Some days I question God - "Where is this going?" "What are Your plans?" "How is this going to make sense?" But it is not mine to know the end, only the next step. I guess that's what faith is. Trusting, based on who I know God to be, that I will arrive at a destination; that I am not just driving all over the tundra aimlessly. I entrust the destination to Him and just take each step as it comes.