that perfect hand…

In Ocean's 11, Danny said that "the house always wins. If you play long enough, never change the stakes, then the house takes you. Unless, when that perfect hand comes along, you bet big… and then, you take the house." Here's the hand I've been dealt, sometimes it's risky and sometimes it's safe, but all the time… it's perfect. It's mine.


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in these moments [too]

Our journey can feel staggering, and faith feels wavering, amidst an altered path. Or – when something happens to contradict what we hoped for, prayed for, or when we decided and determined ourselves what is going to come. Then – that is when our true and far reaching roots are formed. With all my thoughts and love somewhat far away today, I can’t seem to put much into words.

“There is a complete awareness of our desperation [and weakness]. Through what God decided to reveal in a few moments of brokenness – when life happens to us, it’s not as simple as [singing a song]. I think sometimes we all need to admit…we don’t know what the heck’s going on.” – All Sons & Daughters, paraphrased from a 2011 interview.

I love that.

Grace and peace.

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all i know

The best I know how.

Amidst a conversation the other day, my teaching partner asked me how I handled a situation amongst a few of our kids. Not unlike many of the incidents or experiences in the first two months of our year, I felt helpless and hadn’t predetermined a strategy, so it felt fitting that he asked me post-handling. All too often, we’ve felt uncertain about how and what we’re doing and, as I’ve mentioned before, been overwhelmed by the fragility of our ‘clientele’ this year. It feels as though the distances between corners-turned are quite lengthy, and we’re teaching ourselves how to have some more grace for, well, ourselves. Anyway, some tough days. So within a conversation regarding these matters and how we do, I think I smiled weakly, but said directly, “I just do it the best way I know how.”

The best I know how.

I am in a space right now that happens every so often as the season changes and it seems as if I’ve been evolving at a little slower of a pace than usual. Self-reflection overrides all other aspects of my time and I am caught up in having tea with myself, wondering what lesson I am supposed to be learning or when I will be enveloped within a challenge that I cannot foresee the reason for (yet). I should apologize to those around me, because I tend to be a bit of a bother during these times as I don’t know what to say, for fear of being found out that I am [heartfully, mentally] journeying again.

I realize that I don’t have answers or understanding or awareness for absolutely everything, but I do know that I live and act the best I know how to. As a daughter, I try to honour my parents for the ways they’ve raised me and the role they uphold within my life. As a sister, I know I’ve come up short here and there, but trust that the love, grace, and forgiveness that I wholeheartedly extend to them in moments will ultimately be sent my way. The best way I know to be a friend is to think of them, be intentional with my honesty, care, and support, and pray for that in return. In my profession, I don’t know how to teach or be a colleague or mentor in any way other than the way I do it. I am growing, learning, changing, and sifting through different ways that I believe I can get better.

The only thing I am absolutely certain of is that this part, the part where I am looking at what I am doing and how I am doing with an honest heart, is truth. My truth – what informs me, guides me, criticizes me, molds me, might look different than yours, but it’s all I know. I struggle with comparisons (I think we all do, to some extent) because I think that comparison is unfair to the nature of who we are. If everyone is operating honestly for themselves, then I believe co-existing with each other might be a much more gracious task. So as to look at one another and whisper “your way of doing, of being, is different from mine – but we’ll find our way.”

I read somewhere today that “broken bones heal stronger, and so do broken [people].” My brokenness surfaces during these seasons for me; when the noise of what I am walking through magnifies the parts of my truth that I need to piece back together and fix. But I am working towards deeply understanding that this is not a bad place to be – vulnerability, trepidation, quiet. In a moment, I wait for the next [light hearted] time where simplicity masks the contemplation of where I am at. It can be easier to be satisfied and not question, than to crave and look for more to cultivate your truth.

The best I know how.

I only know one way to be, and that’s how I am doing it. I seek to understand others in my desire to love them for where they’re at when they meet me at “this” (undisclosed/unspecified/proverbial) place. I find that knowing people, asking questions, and truly listening helps me see the best parts of them and maybe use some of their ways to help me with mine. I am not sure if I’ll ever get it right – being daughter, sister, friend, teacher, but I know that I am doing my best with what I’ve been given. I try to appreciate, and be grateful, for that awareness.

Someone told me once that his way of looking at what he does is by ensuring that he “doesn’t get in his own way.” Profound, was my understanding – don’t over think or question too hard what is smouldering in your hearts, otherwise you might inhibit yourself from seeking those truthful, honest, natural desires and truths. And in not getting in my own way, I certainly hope I don’t get in the ways of others. The best parts about me seem to require an ever present you (in any defined form) and I am at a point where my excuse for being is that I am doing it [all] as I can, as it should be… for who I am.

Garrels' Quote


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a new, old way

There is nothing like spending the weekend with a brand new niece to deepen the desire to look at the world with fresh perspective. We are all captivated by new babies but sometimes, if you’re watching for it, you can see how captivated by us and everything that is around. The awe and adoring a child does as they see each piece of nature or colour or animal or candy for the very first time – we ought to learn from them, rather than teach them to learn from us. I know it’s impossible to persist in this thought as we get caught in each moment of the day-to-day, but still. I love the irony in life that the older we grow, the more we learn but the more we learn, the more we seem to sacrifice the basic truths and instincts that we were born with (and that we didn’t have to learn). What’s more, it takes some of us a lifetime to find that feeling again: deep and curious love for every breath we take and every sight we see.

One of my students asked me if I ever would want to be a kid again, and I laughed. They are up against so much more, it seems, than I was when I was young. It’s hard to witness, at times, as I wonder how much I would fit in. Maybe I was always an old soul, or maybe it’s my age that just makes it harder to understand. And honestly, I loved growing up. Not without its hardships or confusion or uncertainty of where I fit (a topic to pursue on here at another date, I think). However, the only way I’d take a do-over is if I could take all the wisdom I gained in getting through it. Mary Oliver, one of my favourite poets, asked in The Summer Day (go here for full poem): “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” It takes weekends like the one I just had, immersed in the sunshine and mugs of tea and quiet wonder of f reading stories with my nephews and following the eyes of my sweet niece, to remember how fleeting it all is.

I love this: living. I just want to remember how to do it like they do, as she does, and as those who have found a way to love exactly where and how they are. Mary Oliver, I still don’t know how to answer that question most days. Here’s to making plans and setting some goals, and looking around a little differently again… among other things.

Imageso beautiful, all of this.


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the year.

his_grace_sufficient_thumb-500x500

I remember back in university when I got in the habit of seeing the year as September – April, as opposed to January – December. It seemed fitting since every September brought something new – classes, people, living arrangements, and sometimes, a new city. Instead of holding the opportunities for a fresh beginning, January simply became the continuation of this – second semester of third year (or whatever was appropriate). Then, come April 30th, I would round out my year by working for 4 months to save/provide for my next year…and so on. Since I did this for 6.5 years, I got the hang of it.

This cycle persists. Approaching the end of September, it fits to reflect on it as the first month of my new year, not as the 9th month of 2013.

Colder temperatures are setting in as I am cozied up in my bed this Saturday morning. We had a beautiful Indian Summer here on the prairies, and for that I am grateful. The summer months were woven together by celebrating the love of those around me. It was a blessing to travel and participate in weddings during July and August, but the busyness begged for some time to enjoy the weather at a bit of a slower pace – yes, even though summer heat in September can be an upward climb for teachers and students!

Summer brought – a wife for my brother, a union for two of my dearest friends, another for friends I adore, yet I see so rarely, fresh fruit, coffee to overflow, Okanagan beach days, Bulkley River nights, the living skies of Saskatchewan, and countless precious moments to steal away the loneliness that can set in when family and friends feel so far away. I was prepared for my new year with the hope and renew that comes from trust in the path set before me.

Here now, I am back in grade 6 and with the same teaching partner I was blessed with last year. I am grateful for a year that breaks from the transitional patterns I’ve had for so long. The children in our room this year are complex – their genes, hearts, and experiences bring us unparalleled difficulty. To clarify: it’s not a negative struggle. Difficulty doesn’t mean bad. It simply means that the fragility of people becomes more powerful and true to me as I experience the world through my desperate desire to help these kids. They’re all heart as I like to say… and you can interpret that as a characterization of their enthusiasm or how much of me it’s going to take each day. The only way to approach it is in love and reflection and truth that my career is a gift, each new year bringing a different energy and focus than the one past.

September represents new. But what is new does not always look the way we think it will. Upon adjustment, my view is clear and approaching a different type of beauty.

The year – looks to be promising but definite a pull at my heart. Walk with me as I learn another new and different way of doing; a deeper, more gracious and humble way of being.

My life is yours 
My hope is in you only 
My heart you hold

Your glory is so beautiful 
I fall onto my knees in awe
And the heartbeat of my life
– your glory, 
all sons and daughters


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We come with beautiful secrets
We come with purposes written on hearts, written on our souls
We come to every new morning
With possibilities only we can hold
Redemption comes in strange places, small spaces
Calling out the best of who we are
I want to add to the beauty
to tell a better story… (~sara groves)


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resolution ’13

It is fascinating, the whole idea of new years, new perspectives, and pressure to ‘change’ or ‘goal set’ or determine something BIG to shape the next 12 months (or however far into the foreseeable future that you allow yourself to ‘plan’ for). I think every January I’ve posted something about what I resolve to do in the upcoming year. However, it was only in a recent conversation with someone that I faced the fact that I think resolutions are ridiculous. Yes, I believe being adaptable and actively seeking growth is important and reflection is crucial to my own understanding of ‘success’. But to actually create a list of all the ways I need to get it together always turns into more of a personal pep talk or worse, talking myself into insecurity over all the ways that I may have messed up the previous year. Not that commiserating over my shortcomings isn’t valuable at times but really… do I really think it’s an important ritual: starting a new year by focusing on all the failures of the last? Hmm. So here’s my thought process –

Commitment – isn’t that what resolutions actually are? Making a commitment, rather than setting a goal, to changing something. Or re-evaluating a part of our existence that might need a little guidance. Sure, it might simply be saying the same thing as I argue against in my previous paragraph. However, I like a good challenge – I am a very committed, loyal, determined person and somehow, ‘committing to’ instead of ‘resolving to’ is going to be a little more realistic for me. And simply: I only have one commitment to this new year, 2013, the year I turn – shame – 28.

I was thinking and praying a lot over the winter holidays about relationship. What does ‘being in relationship’ with people actually mean? What do I bring to the ones I am a part of? How much do I value the relationships in my life and what amount of me is filled by the love and grace that others give to me? Am I worthy…are we worthy…of Jesus’ love and grace, especially in moments when we tend to forget Him? How can I be blessed by but not filled by my earthly relationships? Do those I care for, know how hard it can be? Oh yes –

No answers. It’s really just a thinking/talking point but my heart seems very focused on the meaning of relationship in my life. Because I value the thoughtful and meaningful part of being in relationship with someone, and my love language being quality time, it’s been an interesting question for me to render… relationship, Christ, me, you, value, perseverance, grace, love, patience, pride, change, growth…and how each part woven together is an overwhelming responsibility…but a blessed one. And relationship? Is it okay to admit that sometimes, I just don’t know how?

How to be selfless?
How to be gracious?
Forgive?
Laugh even when it’s hard?
Make room for more new people – when the old are just fine?
How to listen all the time?
Make it through hard moments?
Not miss the ones I miss as much?
How to make time to be grateful for those who’ve given me so much?

Words of a beloved Christmas tune seemed to surround me through this pre-2013 holiday contemplation:

truly He taught us to love one another..

and again:

truly He taught us to love one another..

No questions anymore really, that’s pretty much it.

Going into the new year, that is my simple commitment: to be more intentional in my relationships. To give grace freely, to trust completely, to listen wholly, to remember and be thoughtful, to be present, to recognize each relationship for what large and intimate or small and distant role they have, and to love unconditionally and intentionally all those who have chosen me.

Relationships with intention.

Because that’s the way it was intended to be.

sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise [I]


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trusting change

“…because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.” -Romans 5:5

And for that, I have hope to trust I am exactly where I should be. Why does it feel like there is no turning back now?

Hmm..

Cheers… to fully embracing a new adventure!