My words feel few and far between these days. But tonight? Lights down and heart quiet…I NEEDED this. Maybe you do too?

What, when the world fades and you find yourself quiet, does your heart seek? I want to answer quick “HIS GLORY” but I am not sure that is truth. And when that truth becomes less than central, minds and hearts play tricks. So tonight, just this…

The earthquakes….

Dear O & E,

You are the twin earthquakes that shook my world to the core. The whole axis is bent and time has shifted. The days are so much longer now, while the years grow shorter. One minute I am trying to speed things a long because somehow its taken eight hours between dinner and bedtime, strange thing is, the very next moment I find myself, eyes locked on you, longing for time to STOP. HERE. NOW. Nowhere else.

You altered time and space for me sweet babies. I’m fused to you with a cosmic bond and with all the strength of gravity. Thanks for showing me which way is up and reminding me how very good the One who made it all is.

Love always,

Mommy

Thankful this sweet mothers day:

689) Loved ones the deck

690) Overhearing “E, its mothers day, please don’t mess that up for mommy”

691) My sweet mommy.

692) My dear mother in law.

693) A gorgeous, restful week off.

694) SUNSHINE

695) That boy

696) That girl

697) The thought today as I was frustrated with 695 and 696 and thought to myself  ”Wow this is the life” then suddenly overwhelmingly “YES. THIS is the life.

I am the thick blood of a Scot, with my freckled skin, my stubborn nature. I am the fair hair of a Swed; the hardiness of Canada.

I come from a place of hard work, of uncomplicated love, of sacrifice and devotion. I come from small town and gravel road and meadowlark.

I am all dichotomy, ripe with contradictions. I am the gray matter of every argument; the space between your black and his white. I can always see the middle. I am a text-book gemini who doesn’t believe in astrology. I apologize a lot. I don’t expect much from you. I expect a lot from myself.

I am a recovering perfectionist, a conflicted introvert, a prayer warrior who forgets to pray some days.

I am nurse, and I am mommy and I am becoming wife. I am a story-teller and a Jesus chaser and a theology-phob.

I am at peace, midnight underwater and in the quiet of water lapping the shore.

I am found in the wildness of forest and its stillness at dusk.

I am recovered in the pages of scripture, the fine words of scholars, the stories I weave.

I bask in moon beams on my pillow, the glow of my children, the light of my good man; three extraordinary reflections of Creative God.

I love Eddie Vedder and super hero films and I would rather sit by a fire with two friends that be at a party with 20. I love music and dancing and poetry that is raw. I love wind in my hair when travelling too fast, coffee in a paper cup, blank pages and black ink.

I like people who love good food and a good laugh the most. I make my best attempt at authenticity but hate when I use that as an excuse to not pursue rightousness…goodness…purity. Being real is not an excuse to be mediocre.

I believe that I am created with purpose and destiny and I believe dross will fall and I will stand in the identity He formed; identity redeemed.

Feddersen Garden 2012

Oh what a magnificent ‘pause’ I am having. Naps. Baking. Gardening. This week wins (save a trip to the dentist for my very first filling of my life…worst).  All the fun projects we dreamed about all this long cold winter also got started over the last week. Joel flattened my garden area and I got to work digging the soil. I spent a solid 12 hours picking rocks and turning over the soil and do you know what I found? More hard soil, more massive rocks. So to honour the lazy gardener that I am I remembered what I heard on the radio about “lasagna gardening” or layer composting. Apparently you can start your garden anywhere,  while skipping the double dig. This method is thought to be better at reducing weeds and water use as well. It made sense to me (plus I could stop picking the ginormous rocks).

Newspaper layer

First you select where you want  your bed then just go ahead put on a three layers of soaked newspaper. This will apparently draw the needed earthworms to your patch. Next you toss on a layer of peat moss.

Peat Moss

Next a layer of hay. (Abin? I might need to steal your saw table…).

Hay layer

Next a layer of bark mulch.

Bark Mulch

Then repeat. If you are doing this in the fall (which is preferred) then you can just leave until planting. If you are doing now (like me) then you will need to also add a solid four inches of good soil on the top. I want to get this bed ready as soon as possible as I want to plant some early crops now (peas, lettuce, spinach). I think this method will be expensive this year as I am needing to buy most of the layers, in the future you can just use whatever you have around the house alternating between brown (shredded paper, fall leaves, hay) and green layers (raw compost, grass clippings, trimmings from plants). The top photo is the layout for our garden this year! Click the image if you want to create your own garden or want to read more about my planting plan. If you want to read more about this method you can read this or watch this. I will let you know how things grow! I have a feeling that the ‘above ground’ veggies will do great, while things like carrots won’t enjoy having to try to navigate down through my rocky ground.

Also at our house this week? BIG excavation! We’ve had a lot of work done on our switchbacks. While it wasn’t the miracle that Joel and I had sort of hopped for (you know, like suddenly our driveway was 10 feet long and flat?) I think it will help. The grade is reduced a little and now all of the corners are flat (you are not climbing steep grades whilst still turning a corner). We have gravel coming in too and hope things will be much better by next winter!

Hey gardeners out there…what do you think? Do you think I will get a crop with this method? Love to hear any tips you have!!!

“I just can’t do dis, I QUIT”

I know only one place she could hear that from. Me. I am a quitter. When the going gets tough, I assume God isn’t in it. I assume, we’ve lost our way. I want to start again.

I think God is teaching me something else. Twice last week, I came across the same message in twenty-four hours. And none of it was about quitting.

Elijah had a heavy call from God. But he was feeling EXHAUSTED. Despite the fact that he had seen God move in AMAZING ways. Despite the fact that he KNEW he was in the centre of Gods will still he said “I have had ENOUGH Lord. Take my life”. So he lays down…ready to die. Instead? He RESTS. He goes to sleep. He is exhausted. Nothing spiritual about it. Did God yell at him? Tell him not to take his call lightly? Tell him to get back on the field? NO. God sent an angel to bring him food and drink. He rested. He ate. And when he got up? He had energy to walk…40 days. And there? He experienced the PRESENCE of God. (1 Kings 19).

That. There. All I want. The gentle breeze of His presence passing by. His whisper.

And am so thankful for these quiet moments of REST. A week…of nothing…

682) A girls weekend COMPLETE. Thank you to new and old friends who sparkle with His wisdom and joy…I think? We done good.

683)Does anything make you feel stronger, quieter, more humble than picking weeds in the sun? The perfect resolution to a busy weekend.

684) Walking in the woods.

685) So many fun projects (a forest chapel, a flattened garden area, a parking lot and the DRIVEWAY redo). Hurray! Pictures later this week? Till then? Construction ZONE!

686) Thankful for all the help with the kids this weekend! Thank you Michelle, Kaylah, Jerry, Matt, Ash-a-lee, Mamma Fed, Ferg. I promise I am not leaving the house for a long, long time (used up all my babysitters in two days!). So thankful that in this season of busy our kids are still so very well-loved. We know that the blessing of community and family we have is not to be taken for granted.

687) The police officer around these days. So fun.

688) Picnic on the deck with my wee lass this morning. The perfect way to start this week.

And so after a season of MUCH, I begin a season of quiet rest. Knowing that, even though it was A LOT, it was also HIS. That being tired, isn’t a call to quit. It is a call to REST, RENEW, SEEK.

Some weeks? You just need to put your head down and ‘git er done’. I am in one of those. Finishing work for the term (reports, planning, etc), planning a large girls conference next weekend and also trying to finish one other important project.

Everything that has been just loosely held together this year is starting to disintegrate.

But. In reality? It isn’t. I am just a wee bit overwhelmed and when that happens the lens through which I see the world gets so very corrupted.

So today? Just this:

“Wilkie said, “Sit down right here at this table, here is a yellow pad and here is a ballpoint pen. I want you to write down your blessings” I said, “Wilkie, I don’t want to talk about that, I’m telling you that I am going crazy.”  He said, “First, write down that I said write it down and think of the millions fo people all over the world who cannot hear a choir, or a symphony, or their own babies crying. Write down, I can hear- Thank God. Then write down that you can see this yellow pad, and think of the millions of people around the world who cannot see a waterfall, or flowers blooming, or their lovers’ face. Write, I can see – Thank God. Then write down that you can read. Think of the millions of people around the world who cannot read the news of the day or a letter from home, a stop sign on a busy street, or…”. I followed Wilkie’s orders and when I reached the last line on the first page of the yellow pad, the agent of madness was routed….”

- Maya Angelou (Letters to My Daughter)

And so, despite the fact that I should be working instead of blogging? Here I sit reminding myself of all the small and perfect gifts that remind me that the world is in fact not unfurling. It is just spinning a little fast and I am the only one who can choose to slow it down…

Thankful for quiet moments and tiny gifts

670) Sunshine

671) Walks with the littles.

672) Treasure collecting bags. Him saying “I think I won’t pick that, I will wait until it blooms and come back to see it”

673) Creativity.

674) Chalk roads on the deck.

675) Just. A. Few. More. Days.

676) A great dinner at Michelles

677) Buds on the trees

678) Messy dinners

679) Making time to see my friends

680) Praying with, being inspired by Jesus chasers.

681) Summer stretching out before me like a clean canvas….I can hardly wait.

Till then? Nose back to the grindstone…feelings of defeat left in my wake.

A modified Mother Theresa quote

Twice since we have been in youth ministry our names have come up in criminal investigations.

The best story?

Six months after we bought our first home (in a neighborhood mostly occupied by seniors) a cluster of marijuana plants was found behind our mailboxes. Naturally, the young man (who wears a toque year round, has long hair and a beard) has a huge crop growing in his basement. Adding to the suspicion, was the fact that at that point in our ministry there was many groups of young men in plaid shirts staying with us with giant trailers in the driveway  - what else could they be hauling but shipments of weed across the border? There was also boats and strange vehicles coming and going and loud raucous ‘parties’ in our basement. Little did they know that it was Christian rock bands visiting the church and hauling music equipment, games of four on the couch and boats in preparation for camp. None of it was drug induced.

It was good for a laugh back then, that phone call informing us that our names had come up in the investigation. The drug abuse prevention specialist and the youth pastor: the usual suspects.

Now though, I sense it as a warning of things to come. People in this world tend to think the worst of each other. Some of the very best people I know, who in certain situations have acted with the utmost integrity have still been dragged through the mud. It is junk. It makes me crazy.

Equally as dangerous and toxic though, is how sometimes there is a level of idol worship of people in leadership. That is, sometimes people think you are better than you are. Sometimes it messes with your head.

Both are equally false. Trusting either opinion of you will make you crazy. Your identity cannot lay outside of yourself, in anything as easily corrupted as the mind of another.

Your reputation this side of heaven will never be truth.  Thankfully the one who judges our hearts knows our intent. Knows our service in the secret place. Knows the whole of the story, knows what you faced to bring you to this day.

So remember, even if you are battered on all sides, GREATER IS HE, whom shall you fear?

Shake it off,  your treasures and identity are stored in a much safer place.

And then YESTERDAY? SPR-UMMER arrived. IT IS THE BEST. And it won’t really end now until September. You see it doesn’t get terribly hot up here, not like in town. We just get this glorious 25-28 degrees celsius. It is the season of having too much fun outside and loosing track of time, of eating on the deck, of long-awaited projects. It is wonderful.

We are back in the sandbox:

(O has his first short hair of his life…it is KILLING me. Why does he look 12? Mercy.)

The hose is out:

The scooters are scooting:

The chalk is arting:

The flowers are coming up (and it would appear that all my end-of-season-on-sale planting survived! Yay blueberries, grapes, rhubarb, lavender)

In other news: Sam is staying. He is such a sweet dog and we all love him. But. How scary are these photos? He loves to hunt sparks from the campfires. It is the only thing he seems to have any violent streak about. If this beast doesn’t look like the thing of nightmares though, I don’t know what does.

Usually he looks like this and thinks he is a lap dog. His other favorite things are chasing Joel on dirt bikes, going for hikes, shedding and making Abby growl. His tongue didn’t used to seem so huge before Sprummer arrived. He prefers Wring….easier on a Pesky Shepherd (I tried to teach O about dog breeds, he miss heard me and starting calling Sam the Pesky Shepherd…it seems appropriate).

AMAZING how a little bit of sun changes EVERYTHING. Over-spiritualize much Melissa Ann? That was just a raging case of cabin fever and nothing treats that faster than some sprummer sun, an impromptu road trip (to Coldplay with friends no less), and a lost day planner (which means I have no idea what I am supposed to be doing, so I’m just not doing it…it is very therapeutic).

Thanks friends! What fun! Going to miss you somethings fierce.

This week the challenge is on the concept of ‘trust’. 

Dear Joel,

The truth of the matter is, that I have done most everything in my life for only one year. It started when I was five. Highland dance, ballet, figure skating, softball, jogging, rowing, flute (ok, that was three years), choir, musicals, volleyball…I could go on. Basically, I am a quitter.

So naturally the thing I admire most about you is your steadfastness. The way you stand solid in your love and have always made me feel so dreadfully secure. Though I must confess sometimes I don’t believe it. Because seriously, how do you do that thing where you just never quit stuff? I don’t get it. If I was in charge around here we would have quit everything…And I mean everything. We would’ve started things too I am sure. Exciting things, lots of them. It would be fantastic. And yet.

You keep showing me the fruit of the long haul. Of commitment. Of perseverance. You say that you cannot grow anything good without time. That longevity matters. Thirteen years at one church. Nearly fourteen years of marriage. I am starting to believe you.

I used to think that your steadfastness marked a lack of passion, a lack of the truest love. Now I know better. Fidelity takes a heck of a lot more passion than the alternative.

I trust you because the fact that my heart beats new and fresh, yours has always beat a single beat. A rhythm of faithful.

And somehow? When we became one? My heart started keeping your rhythm.

I hope you can hear it….it beats for only you.

Yours.

Meliss