Just a quick few lines as I have to work today. I just wanted to give a shout out to my fellow bloggers for keeping it real, and at the same time adding so much joy to life with your inspirational posts. I so admire your courage, your support, and your honesty. I have been moved more times than I can count by your encouraging words and bravery in sharing real life struggles and challenges. Yes, we may all be a little broken in one way or another, but we are also wounded healers. Thank you for bringing light and learning to a weary world. Wishing you all more blessings than you can count. Cheers!
I write this to honour a young man I once had the privilege of working with. He was confined to a wheelchair and spent his days alternately in his chair or laying in bed. He could not see well as he was partially blind. He also could not speak much and only uttered two words that made sense: “mama” and “No”. Mostly he uttered guttural sounds, but oh my, he could laugh. I remember describing him to friends of ours and the first thing they asked was, “what kind of quality of life is that?” And they felt sorry for him. Yet it was this young man who taught me much about what ‘quality of life’ really means.
No, he couldn’t walk and his limitations were severe and many. He could move his legs and one arm, and he could turn his head to a limited degree. He also had a feeding tube in his stomach through which he was given nourishment – liquid ‘meals’. I had been asked if I would come work with him as his usual care giver was going off on leave. I was scared. I didn’t think I could do it. I had never done this sort of work before and didn’t think it was a good fit, but his mother encouraged me and, in the end, I agreed to try. It has been a blessing that has had reverberations in my life.
Here is what J. taught me: He taught me there are many ways to communicate without ever speaking a word. He taught me patience. He taught me grace, endurance, forgiveness, and so much more. He taught me what real love looks like.
I would arrive in the early morning and he would be laying awake waiting for me. I would bend over and whisper good morning in his ear. He’d smile. He always smiled.
After the morning routine of bathing, dressing, and breakfast was done I would sit beside his bed and read stories to him. Sometimes I sang songs, he seemed to enjoy that. He also enjoyed games I made up as we exercised his limbs so the muscles would not atrophy. He laughed a lot. It was gratifying to hear him laugh, and when he would turn his head at the sound of my voice and smile his beautiful smile.
He loved it when his little brother, a toddler at the time, was placed on his lap. The little guy was very curious about this big brother and would often hug him and caress his face. J loved that. At other times though, he would slap J or inadvertently hurt him in some way. J would cry, deeply hurt by his little brother’s actions. But he never had the smallest inclination to strike back – he had no desire for revenge. He simply expressed his hurt and pain through tears. J never seemed to get angry – it was just not part of his makeup or personality. Thankfully these occasions were few and far between.
I worked with J for a little over a month, but the time spent with him was overall a joyous experience. He was endlessly patient with my fumbling in the early days and I came to look forward to my time with him. It was a time of great learning, on my part. And it was a time filled with grace, peace, and goodwill. J has many blessings to share with the world, and I am grateful to have had the opportunity to experience the benedictions he imparted.
That there is brutality in this world, of that there can be no doubt. It is recorded in billions of stories and published all around the world. That there is cruelty, torture, murder, and killings galore is also well documented. People are facing starvation, wars, homelessness, abuse of every kind, political corruption, and much more. I have been reading a lot of stories just like these. But you know what? For every bad news stories there are millions more good news stories.
The stories of every day people doing their best at home and at work to serve others in so many ways. Like bus drivers that smile a good morning as they drive people to their destinations. Like care givers who feed, bathe, and provide for babies, children, the sick, and others in their care. Like farmers who work in all kinds of weather to bring us food. These are just a few examples, but you get where I’m coming from. Every day heroes who help us make it through another day, week, month, year. No, they don’t often make the news, unless something unusual happens, but they are the stuff of life. They are the reasons we can keep going.
Tell me a story about a special someone in your life, somebody who brightened your day today. I would love to hear your thoughts. Please, will you share your “good news” story?
“Come, rest upon my petals here and tell me of your story.
Where have you been, My little friend?”
Said the flower to the moth
“I roam high above, where you can never go.
I visit plants and trees and flowers sweet everywhere I travel,”
Said the moth to the flower.
“Oh, to fly up high, to soar upon the winds.
To not be planted in one place, to see beyond the wall.”
Sang the flower to the moth.
“Aw, but you are treasured, for your beauty and your scent.
No worries about foes like birds that would eat you, if they could,”
Said the moth to the flower.
“There are pros and cons to every Life,”
Continued he to she. The moth thought to comfort her with his words so wise
And yet the flower pined and pined for freedom to travel far.
“It’s true, I am admired, and watered every day, but if you think me safe right here
You know not all my visitors,” replied the flower,
“For there are bugs that chew my leaves, And spiders everywhere. Not to mention
honey bees That feed upon my nectar.”
“Aw, so you serve this world,
Nourishing the pollinator,” the moth cried out.
“Oh silly moth, I know the truth – that you as well
Pollinate us flowers,” she answered,
“And so, you see, we have need of thee.
When you brush your soft, soft wings
Against my little petals, you do more than tickle me
Like some ethereal feather. And when you chance to nibble me
And drink deeply of my nectar,” she shyly whispered, “you too carry my
Essence to continue seed production.”
The moth stretched out his wings and proudly strutted his stuff
He thought about all the good he did and didn’t remember why
Venus flytrap chewed up his kind, that naughty, naughty flower.
It was because the caterpillar he once was did damage to her leaves
and ruined her every finery….
The flower knew this, but did not say, for his friendship she treasured
After what seemed a lengthy pause, the moth did once more speak
“We each do our part, to bring beauty to this world, and I will speak to north wind
And ask him when you’re ready, to blow your petals far above the wall so you can see
The wonders of this world,” the moth proclaimed.
And so, it came to be, that during summer’s warmest days the flower bloomed and blossomed. But in the fall the north wind kept his promise and lifted high her petals. She traveled far beyond the wall and lived at last her dream.
She bows her head down to the earth
As if in prayer and submissive stance
She lowers her head down to the ground
From which she sprung, but a short time ago
Her life is short but leaves behind
Memories of her beauty and her grace
And reminds us all of the sacred and sublime
That lays within utter humility
She hangs her head, but not in shame
‘Tis only the lateness of the hour
Her stalk, once strong, that held her high
Lowers her gently now back to the soil
She will lie fallow through harsh autumn winds
And willingly gives herself to winter’s icy grip
Knowing that the seed she carries
Deep within her flower
Will arise anew when the sun once again warms the earth
In the great cycle of death and birth
Today we celebrate the rich diversity of our country’s First Nations peoples. From the shores of Newfoundland and Labrador to the beaches of British Columbia our native peoples offer a wide variety of culture and spirituality. Yet traditionally, all across this great land they share a love of nature and a deep respect for the environment. Several years ago, I learned that one of my great grandmothers was a Mi’kmaq woman. Unfortunately, due to patrimony and the colonial practices of the day, I know little about her, or the Mi’kmaq people. I have been doing my best to learn more ever since then.
Today I celebrate all indigenous people everywhere and especially those here in Canada. Let us dance to the beat of the sacred drum and give thanks to the Creator who gifted us with life.
When we had to move from the home I loved I was extremely disappointed. It was not so much the house itself, but the location. There were several mature trees on the lot and it was right across the road from a nature trail. And so, I prayed about it. ‘Please, God, help us find a home that suits our needs. Send me a sign when we find the right place.’ The new place is lovely – much roomier than our previous abode. I have to say the location is not nearly as ideal, but I had neglected to add ‘must have mature trees and lots of birds’. At any rate when we came to look at this house we moved into I had to laugh for on the wall were several biblical quotes, including “With God all things are possible”. Needless to say, we took the place.
But I have been missing the birdsong and the variety of winged visitors I had enjoyed at the previous address. Then a couple of weeks ago a pair of American robins built their nest in a flower box situated on the railing of my next-door neighbor’s front steps. It is literally a few feet away from us and I can watch her from the window very easily. It is as though the creator read my mind and granted me the beauty of watching this mama robin. A few days ago, the eggs hatched and now we are treated to scenes of both parents delivering food to their chicklets.
God goes by many names and concepts – whatever you may believe, I hope you see evidence of the creator at work and enjoy the wonderful sense of humor. I am grateful and feeling very blessed.
Today is a day set aside to acknowledge the achievements and efforts of women around the globe, whether political, social, cultural or economic and, of course, to work toward true equality for all people everywhere. Equality is far from a reality in many places and is a goal we continue to strive toward.
I cannot help but think of all the women who have been a positive influence in my own life and give thanks for them. Naturally my mother is first and foremost on my mind – the sacrifices she made as she worked to raise her family. She cooked, cleaned, sewed clothing for us, nurtured and guided us – for many years in a house without electricity or running water. She was a wonderful woman for whom I will always be grateful. I stand in awe of her every time I consider all she lived through and all she overcame. She was my first hero and remains an example of the kind of woman I hope to be.
And then there are my sisters – two older and one younger than I. My older sisters are the most giving, thoughtful, and wisest women I know. I cannot begin to describe the impact they have had on my life. In many ways they served as surrogate mothers helping to take care of all of us and nursing us through the pains of childhood and the heartbreak and angst of the teenage years. My younger sister was and is my confidant and my best friend. All three have been a source of loving support, friendship, and wise counsel.
On this day I celebrate all the women in my life who have given generously of themselves time and time again – my mother, grandmother, sisters, aunts, daughters, sisters-in-law, cousins, nieces, teachers, friends, neighbors, and coworkers. None of whom are famous, but all of whom I celebrate today. I thank them for their strength, their courage and fortitude and for the heroes they truly are. For it is the everyday hero who make the biggest impact and whose strength and support keeps us moving forward. I hope they know how deeply grateful I am for each and every one.
“The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing….not healing, not curing…that is a friend who cares.” Henri Nouwen
I once read somewhere that ‘some people make life better just by being in it’ – that resonated with me. I am blessed to have many such people in my life, but I am thinking of two friends in particular who have been loyal, caring, supportive and kind throughout the past several years; And the past two in particular. Friends may come and friends may go, but some become like family – people who have your back when you’re up against a wall. I am so grateful, so very, very grateful for these wonderful, warm, and caring friends. Naturally they seem to have no idea how special they are. The truly humble people never do, do they? And the thing is they have so much stress going on in their own lives, yet are able to reach inside themselves to provide the support I need when I need it. Other times it is the shared laughter and pure joy in living that they abundantly share. The gift of time; the gift of self – that’s what it’s all about, right? I am grateful. I am grateful for friendship; for people who are willing to sacrifice for others; for people who give me the strength to keep going – no matter what their own circumstances. God bless them all!
Today is the first day of the Alberta Winter Games 2018, with each community planning their own activities to celebrate winter play. It is a perfect day. The sun is shining. It is relatively mild with just a touch of a breeze – perfect weather to get out and enjoy winter sports. I am not much of a sports fan, but I do enjoy a walk in the woods. I am posting a few photos I took this morning – nothing spectacular, but I hope you enjoy them nonetheless.