Author Archives: melissafed

Happy New Years!

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I hear the screen door slam as I hit publish last night and before I even see him his voice finds me half-way down the stairs,

“Hey, I was just thinking. You know that dream of yours…”. The one I don’t talk about. The quiet one I dare breath to only the precious few. He goes on about putting feet on it and making it true and how life is short and how the last thing he ever wants, is for me to have regrets. My breath catches in my throat…As if skywriting weren’t enough. My eyes immediately fill and spill over and he looks at me half stunned by the magnitude of my response. I’m overwhelmed. I start counting the generosities of this my fine husband and the One who gave even him.

444) Fireworks and astonished little people

445) Incredibly LAZY week off

446) Little eyes that are no longer stuck shut upon waking

447) Tracking down this book and being THRILLED by it.

448) A new year to dream…or better…to chase

449) Tree down and seeing my home for the first time without decorations.

450)  That tomorrow things get busier…as lovely and craved two weeks of nothing is…we’ve had enough. Time to get this stir crazy boy OUT!

451) Little cousins reading to ‘little-er’ cousins

452) Sleepover and snowman pancakes

453) Last day of holidays bubble bath and book.

454) Freedom to ‘chase’ from the One who has been asking me to ‘be still’

455) Feels like HOME

Visit other blessing counters here:

2011

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He lit the sky on fire tonight. Canvas painted light orange and then blood red and even two year old sensed how spectacular it was and stood next to her daddy whispering ‘sun set, sun set’. We all sit in wonder and can’t help but worship sky writer and we whisper of His extravagance as we are afraid if we talk to loud we will blow the moment away.

2011 is stretching out ahead of me like a parchment and I’m picking up my pen. I’m taking into my hands the dreams in my heart, and I’m trusting that He has placed them there. I’m stepping in boldness and in courage and I’m stepping over fear and lazy and pushing through doubt and I’m chasing evasive dreams.

This year, all I want, is to be like the sky set on fire.

Linking with

 

 

Word of the Year

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Face is crusted with mucus, red skin forming beneath. We’ve not slept in days and yet I insist on a Christmas craft. We are still attending festivities (even while battling illness) and I’m desperate for them not to think it is about GETTING alone.  Em is dressed partially for the party, tights and undershirt are on. I’ve broken up a few fights already, pulling each others crafts away. Little boy won’t quit his newly learned ‘cutting skill’ long enough to finish his little masterpiece. I turn to finish cleaning up the kitchen and return to find little girl colouring herself with markers. Her tights deep blue, her hands all purple, and I snap at her.

“Emily..WHAT ARE YOU DOING? We are leaving in 15 minute!”

Little face turns to lap, eyes fill with giant tears, sobs begin. It is nap time at my house and no time for crafts or frustrated mommys.

Little boy looks up at me and with his justice instinct strong, and his heart soft says,

“Mommy…you broke her feelings”.

I stop short my blustering. I’ve been flitting around the house like a wind storm, stirring up trouble with my own impatience. Driving everyone wild with my heart full of ‘rush’. Bossing husband, hustling children, as if there was a jet plane to heaven we are about to miss. As if we are desperate to pick up our food rations. There is no true rush besides the one that lives in my heart and that one wields its head too often and turns mamma heart cold.

I’ve thought long and hard what this year would be about and the moment that little boy called me out, the moment where impatience caused anger flare up and little girl tears, the choice became clear. This year will be about walking slowly, so that little feet can easily keep up. This year will be about being quick to listen and slow to speak. This year will be about being two minutes late rather than yelling ‘hurry up’. This will be the year that allows little hands to fully explore before I push them along. It will be about not letting words run off ahead of me and running into each other or running over the ones I love. This year will be one where PATIENCE is learned and refined. It is time for me to grab hold of my impatient tongue that lashes instead of builds, and it is time to learn how to walk slowly beside and to match my pace to little feet. I’m so thankful to day for the ONE who is patient with me, the one who will lead this heart into step with His.

Thankful for Christmas

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I’ve been thinking about home lately. We’ve been busy moving house this last month and I have had trouble finding time for making home. Lately though, as Christmas season came and people started to collect around the new place, the house has taken on a distinct flavour of home. Baking mincemeat tarts with my mother, reading Christmas books with my kids, gathered round campfire with family, friends collected for sledding and skiing…the sights, the sounds, the feelings that make home. As life progresses, and relationships become more complicated, those that love you unconditionally, with uncomplicated motives, with simple intent to love you well and to always think the best of you…these become home. I’m so thankful for those whose hearts I find my home in. And this season, so thankful for hundreds of other things…

429) Christmas dinners and the chefs who make it

430) Clean up crews

431) Cousins

432) Kleenex

433) Incredibly beautiful friends who create lovely Christmas brunches

434) Friends who give cross country skiis and take you to new beautiful places

435) Coming home to groups of young people making campfires in my yard, tobbagan hills on my hills, and who still, when invited for breakfast, respond “but are you sure you don’t need family time?”.This is EXACTLY what we dreamed about.

436) Scarves made by nieces, cards made by nephews and other little nephews who say (after spending the afternoon here) “Can I come again tomorrow?”.

437) Proud tears for gorgeous girls in singing concerts

438) Cards from husband that make heart mushy

439) Gathering with family (biological and ‘church-ical’)

440) As  weird as Christmas morning by ourselves was, watching the sunrise while sipping my latte and reading my books was a pretty extraordinary way to start the day.

441) Super fun uncles and super sweet aunties for my kids.

442) Clear blue sky this morning.

443) Another week of holidays to look forward to

Tis the season

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Tis the season for sneaking into the rooms of sleeping children and slathering their faces with Vasoline and sleeping sitting up. Tis the season for smuggling medications into popsicle and cuddling on the couch to watch just. one. more. Christmas special. Tis the season of vaporub, humidifier, honey and lemons, and catching vomit in two hands

(Side bar: Moms catching vomit

It’s such a strange phenomenon. I remember my sister telling me she did ‘that’ once and I looked at her totally confused.

“really I said? Wouldn’t you rather let it get on the van? Doesn’t it get on the van anyways?”

“I don’t know she answered, it’s just instinct”

And now I know its true. I did it last night and I know why. It’s a sign of solidarity. I’m saying “I wish I could take this cup from you but until then I’ll form myself into a cup for you”. Its motherhood defined…)

Our season is defined by being held up at home, eating instant food and not getting carried away with Christmas preparations. You know what? That is ok. Perhaps God prefers to slip in the back door anyways. Perhaps he likes to come unannounced and to help in the clean up. So this evening, I’ll light the advent candles in the window. Let him know there is a little house that is waiting for Him even if we can’t quite pull off the fanfare.

When you open your eyes…

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We sit at window pane and we watch clouds roll in.

Fog socks in the valley below. Its choking. Its tight and we will always feel breathless when clutter rolls in. I feel the oppression of it as it comes for us too, sucking in mountain tops we usually see, moving quickly and encircling our little cabin in the woods. We’ve been living in that too…clutter and boxes and carpet layers and BOXES and clutter. And I choke and my vision gets small and I need to step back to remember that even in the mundane, in the clutter, in the mess, that HE is light and HE gives vision big enough to capture imagination and HE gives patience to the impatient. And he gives meaning to work of hands and he can be glorified in this.

So we turn back on boxes and clutter and give up on finishing and embrace now. We build snow men and we eat cookies and we lay beneath Christmas tree and we forget about the mess and we remember incredible gift we are living and the magnificient giver and we make space, chasing back foggy hearts. Every day we can….every day no matter how much emotional clutter rolls in, open your eyes to see the flashes of light and the ordinary or spectacular gifts you are in the midst of.

“I lift up my eyes to the mountains— where does my help come from? 2 My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.3 He will not let your foot slip— he who watches over you will not slumber”Psalm 121:1-3

 

Linking this very imperfect prose today with Emily…I’ve missed you.

Country Chronicles

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Slowly getting organized in the cabin in the woods. Can hardly believe we get to live here. I am moving from window to window and gazing at the spectacular views. I sat down today in the midst of the mess of boxes I’ve yet to unpack, right smack dab in the midst of a shredded styrofoam box and I sipped my coffee. I feel at home here already.

I’m not able to sit down and write much in the midst of the mess, but wanted you to know I’m still alive…deliriously happy here.

Hope to get the blog going soon, I miss you!

Two

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Dearest Ms. E,

I am amazed by you these days darling girl. You close my throat up tight several times a day. You with your gentle voice and sweet words. Most often we hear you whisper ‘soweeee’ and cuddle in tight for a ‘tiss’ and ‘hug’, or other sweet words like ‘Owie funny’  and ‘see daddy’. You who kisses me wake whenever I close my eyes on the couch. You who hold my face with both hands as we cuddle in the night, redeeming sleepless with shared breath. You who run till you fall breathless, laugh till you can’t stand back up. You who are becoming a great date and who just today enchanted a whole restaurant with your ‘hot totoa pees’. You the joy bringer who makes us weak in the knees. You with the always ready smile, unfailable hug for big brother when he gets hurt, you with the tender heart.

And though you are nearly chalk full of sugar…I won’t ever forget the spice. Oh you little tamale. You with your single mind. You with your never-back-down determination. You with your ferocious ‘stranger growls’ and hesitation to share. You who motions with hand in air when frustrated and says ‘hit’…though thankfully you don’t bring it down on flesh. You with your side long glances and smirks…there is trouble in you. You are two…through and through.

We are completely enchanted with you Ms. E. You are breaking hearts already…in the very best way. My heart is broken wide for you…its all yours.

Love you to the moon and back,

Mommy

Welcome

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Well…here is my new blog. My previous program just kept crashing, and dying, and it was driving me wild! I will be working to migrate all my old posts over here slowly (AFTER we move in two weeks!) but really wanted to have a blog address to add to our change of address cards! We are moving to the boonies so our previous emails are defunct as well! Thanks for your understanding! If you want to read recent posts about our life click here .