Going Home 1

I love our house. We moved to Winnipeg in 1988 and lived quite unhappily in another house for about 18 months.  I really thought that you could be anyway with your family and the house would be OK but that didn't work out with our first place.  It just didn't suit our family and the lay out of the house kept making us frustrated to we took a financial loss and ended up finding our Hazel Dell Home.

This house has been a blessing to us since we first stepped into it and once we found it, we also fell in love with Winnipeg.  It's in a neighbourhood - The Fraser's Grove area.  We are surrounded by giant American Elms and are only a block from the Red River so we really live in a park. The neighbours are friendly and don't move much so we look after each other. We've watch each other's children grow up and our grandkids now trick or treat at our neighbours because they remember Ryan, Kayla and Scott knocking at their doors.

The house was built in 1949 and was only a year old when the Great Flood of 1950 hit Winnipeg.  It was filled with water up to the window sills on the main floor and we have an interesting horizontal crack that runs through our kitchen because of the repairs done to it after that.  We have had ceilings fall because of water melting from the attic,a flooded basement in 1993 due to sewer back-up and various other minor catastrophes that are the bane of all homeowner.  The best thing we ever did was had our sunroom about ten years ago and it has become the new hub of our family gatherings for the warm part of the year. And for all who know our driveway, I only hit the tree once.

Best of all, it is a haven.  We have weathered many storms in our dear house.  Tragic deaths, depression and the worry of sick friends and grandkids.  But there have been joys too.  Engagements, weddings, Christmases and just the everyday blessings that keep us all going. We just love to be home.  Its safe and comfortable and often after a busy week the only place we want to be.

I was thinking about this as we drove to Iowa this weekend.  I love going home to my Winnipeg home but I was excited to go home to Iowa too.  Homes.  A good thing to think about for awhile.  I am thankful that I have known safe homes all my life.

Dry

The well in my brain seems dry tonight.  I have started several times but nothing is coming together.  I may have to accept that fact that some days, the words aren't going to flow into something profound or funny or even interesting. Part of the problem is that I have school things on my mind and I just don't feel comfortable musing about the ups and downs of the students I work with.  If I try, I spend so much time trying to hide the situation in vague language that the story doesn't come through and the lesson I learned gets lost in ambiguity. I think tonight I need to think and muddle through some of the concerns from school. Tomorrow I will try again.

Syrian children

Willow came over this morning while her mom volunteered in her brother's kindergarten class. She showed me how she can now write all the letters in her name - not always in order but they are there. She can now reach light switches and wash her hand in the bathroom sink without a step stool.  She loves all the princesses in Disney Princess Candyland but always lets me be Snow White. And we finished the morning snacking on brownies we had made and watching her favourite movie, The Wizard of Oz.  She is a happy, bubbling, growing three going on four year old.  A precious time for all children but especially lovely if you are the grandparent.

I opened Facebook when she left and found a post from World Renew, the relief arm of the Christian Reformed Church, advertising a drawing contest for the children to help them think about the children of Syria.  Trying to make our North American children aware of the struggles and needs of other children in so much distress so far away may be difficult because we as adults try to forget about it. But I am sure that there is somewhere in Syria or in some neighbouring refugee camp a delightful little three going on four year old girl who can't play games or bake or just share a fun time with her grandma. That life quickly flew away three years ago.  It breaks my heart because the Syrian conflict isn't the only place in the world where lives have been destroyed by geo-political goings on.

I am going to remember to say special prayers on March 15 for the Syrians and keep reminding myself of the other places too.  I am going to check out some opportunities to contribute to education for refugee children and I am going to hug my close by grandkids and call my far away ones. Life is fragile and often short so its important to do what we can and appreciate those who are close.

Guilt

A week ago I made the announcement that I was going to write in this blog every day for the season of Lent.  Ha! I forgot on Saturday and just decided not to do it on Sunday.  It isn't the writing that is so hard, its the probing the corners of my mind and sorting through all the things I want to write about. I can find things to say, I just need to force myself to focus on just of of many things at a time.  Guilt has been on my mind today.  I thought I would feel guilty if I didn't keep up the writing but I don't.  At an earlier time in my life I would have but I think that losing the power of guilt on my life is one of the joys and benefits of getting older and gaining wisdom.  

We read parts of the Heidelberg Catechism on Sunday so I was reading further along tonight and came to Question and Answer #56.   

 

What do you believe concerning "the forgiveness of sins"?

I believe that God,

because of Christ's atonement,

will never hold against me any of my sins

nor my sinful nature

which I need to struggle against all my life.

Rather, in his grace

God grants me for righteousness of Christ 

to free me forever from judgement.

(taken from The Psalter Hymnal of the Christian Reformed Church, 1987)

None of my sins will ever be held against me!  I mess up.  I did mess up my promise to write but its alright. I get a do-over.  Again and again.  Some would call this cheap or easy but you see, I am back tonight writing.  Thinking about why I didn't continue on the weekend and feeling guilty about it would have had me stuck in myself,  sorry for myself because I am so awful.  But that's the wrong direction for me to look.  I need to look out, to actually look up, up to Jesus.  He makes it worthwhile for me to try again because if I mess up again, no worries, I can try again and he will help me get it right. 

I saw this twice today with students.  Announcing their misdeeds makes them feel bad but it doesn't change their behaviour. Telling the parents about how their children had NOT had a green card all day just made the students discouraged.  They were never good enough. Their behaviour got worse because there was no hope.  Guilt put them further into themselves.  So I hope today, we set a new path.  Lets use some tools so make sure that they have better days at school and if it isn't a good day, what happens at school, if it doesn't hurt someone, stays at school.  Tomorrow is a new day and hopefully with the help of older and wiser helpers, it will be a better day.

Guilt sucks up hope and we can't live or thrive without hope.  Jesus did what he did because I can't live with out making a mess of things. Because of him, I can get rid of guilt and go boldly forward with hope.  

Canada Reads

I was raised in Iowa but at 20 moved to Canada with my brand new husband (Wow! were we young!) and have lived here for 38 years.  In 2003 I became a citizen but had been a Canadian for much longer. I belong north of the 49th.  Its had to explain but one example of why I love it up here is Canada Reads; the yearly CBC contest where well known Canadians debate five Canadian novels. In the end one is chosen as the story all Canadians should read. The book that is voted off the island each day is announced on the CBC National News.  National News!  And a lot of Canadians care. I can check with friends across the country if they are planning to read The Orenda  and ask them what they thought of the debate.  I guess its the unifying factor of national broadcasting. But it is also the fact that as a country, the value of the arts, the worth of exploring difficult topics through fiction is accepted and appreciated.

The Long Winter

As a child, I loved the Little House Series by Laura Ingalls Wilder.  I read every book several times but The Long Winter left lasting images in my mind.  Especially poor blind Mary twisting straw so that the family could stay warm.  Maybe the roots of my affection for those with disabilities starts here.  I was proud of her that she could help the family when it was so needed.

Well, the winter of 2013-2014 is a nasty one too. It is the winter of cold cold temperatures with extreme windchills alternating with warmer but snowy and blustery days.  Often I have reminded myself that at least we aren't the Wilders!  We have a warm house, a good car and plenty of food available. What is lacking is a place to put all the snow!

But there are hardships.  The frost line is so deep that water mains are breaking by the dozens - even closing a major mall.  But even more disconcerting is the fact that 677 houses in Winnipeg do not have running water and the list is growing. The pipes have frozen and the prediction is that the frost may not thaw until June so there is no quick fix.  Three city crews are trying to thaw the pipes but its a slow process and they can't make much of a dent.  Other homes are being told to run water so keep their pipes free - probably until June.  I am thankful that so far we have running water along with our warm house, good car and plenty of food.

The interesting thing is that there is a lot of grumbling about what the City is not doing - clearing the streets soon enough, clean enough, without leaving snow rubble in your already cleared driveway, not giving enough warning of watery roads and of course, not getting the water running!  No matter how many taxes we pay, politicians and civil servants are no match for the weather. I am tired of it all but today I have running water and I am not twisting straw to stay warm.

Tonight I'm going to find my copy of The Long Winter  and snuggle up with a hot chocolate!

Ash Wednesday

When Kayla sang with the Winnipeg Youth Chorus so many years ago, I used to be jealous of the Catholic kids who came to the Wednesday night choir rehearsals on Ash Wednesday.  They still had the cross on their foreheads from an early mass or a celebration at their school.  I never asked.  I was raised in the Christian Reformed Church, a Calvinist denomination with its roots in Holland. The Dutch are not frivolous and I grew up going to services that focused on the Word through sermons with a good dose of congregational singing accompanied by a pipe organ.  Even the stained glass windows in my childhood church were shapes and not pictures. As an adult, even after planning services that included more visuals and lighting advent candles and special sights for Easter, I was drawn to that small dark smudge.  It involved the feel and smell of ashes, the act of a priest applying it and the realization every time you looked into a mirror that it was there.

The mark of Ash Wednesday is ancient and carries a weight of tradition. It probably started as a good idea by a priest who wanted his illiterate congregants to remember their need for a Saviour. If you grew up having to go to mass on Ash Wednesday and probably were embarrassed by it,  the sign may not mean much anymore.  Good intentions often lose their meanings and purpose over time as they become mundane and expected. But to me, the ash cross is surprising, unusual and unknown. I am illiterate in the rhythms of the church year and the novelty draws me in.

So today I do not have an ashen cross on my forehead.  I just went to work and came home in blustery snow. But I do know that there must be people somewhere with a cross on their forehead.  I hope they are looking at their lives and remembering why we needed Jesus to come.  I am going to take the time to do that too.