A Time of Blessing

We have had a most wonderful opportunity - a reunion with beloved friends from the Netherlands! Years ago, in a most blessed period of our lives, we lived in the same community on the Sunshine Coast of BC.  Sadly, both our families were compelled to leave that location due to employment and family concerns. In the late 1990's, Our Dutch friends headed back to Europe and we came east to Ontario. We saw each other for 10 short days in 1999, when our family first moved to Ontario. Hans and Jo and baby Liam visited us and we all crammed into a most dismal, upstairs, rental apartment in an old house here in town. As I recall, I had to work most of the time and was just getting over a bout of pneumonia, but we had many laughs none-the-less. We spent Thanksgiving weekend together visiting St.Jacob's and Wasaga Beach. It was wonderful, but altogether too short. 

Over the years we wrote some letters and stayed connected with periodic emails. Last Christmas, Hans mentioned that they'd like to come to Canada once again. Quick plans were made. Shortly after Christmas they called from Holland to tell us that tickets were purchased....a done deal. I had months to plan and wonder what it would be like to reunite with these precious people after 12 years. Liam was now 14 years old. Wow.

I immediately emailed a friend who owns a superb cottage in Muskoka and arranged to rent it for 5 nights. I had only visited it twice, but knew it to be a haven of rest and beauty. My husband and I talked at length about what we could do...and our friends did some research from their end - all of us wondering and dreaming of an Ontario vacation that lay months ahead in August.

And then the day was upon us. We arrived at the airport early and waited and scanned that sizable Pearson crowd for over an hour. And then the doors opened and out they came. Strangely enough, I recognized Liam first. Same dimples! And right behind him, Yo and Hans. Didn't know who to hug first. We all laughed about getting older, but truly, our friends didn't look any different to me. Same smiles, same warmth.

Over the three weeks we were together, we laughed and told stories during, I'm sure, a thousand kilometres worth of car conversation as we scouted out many of Ontario's most beautiful locales - Midland, Penetanguishene, Collingwood, Craigleith, the Cheltenham Badlands, the covered bridge in Westmontrose, Port Carling, Bracebridge, Dorset, Baysville, Huntsville. We took a few boat cruises, did lots of fishing and introduced them to our closest buddies here. We stayed at Jennie and Jim's cottage outside Parry Sound. Both of them were born in Holland, so a smattering of Dutch was spoken around the table. (Not by me....I learned a great word and excuse my spelling - foukschnout - meaning "wrinkled face." It makes me laugh in the mirror as I consider my age -  foukschnout!)




Cheltenham Badlands near Erin.
Lived within an hour of this for years and never knew it existed!






Fishing again! Outside of Huntsville...

 



Oh Canada!



And food...in a Dutch bakery in Huntsville, I was introduced to Dutch Licorice Chalk, an amazing licorice covered in thin white mint. It looks like pieces of chalk. This has now become my all-time favourite candy. They also brought Strop waffles. What a cookie that is! (I am pleased to report that this can actually be purchased at some Starbucks locations. We saw some in Collingwood.) Yo and Hans made Nasi Goreng and Chicken Satays with cucumber salad - they were always great cooks. And we shared conversations over many meals in local restaurants.

We enjoyed our time at the cottage....highlight being that Hans celebrated a landmark birthday. Cake for breakfast! Hurray! It was a cool and rainy day, so we even lit the fireplace and read and relaxed until Hans took us all out for a great meal in a riverside restaurant in Huntsville. The sun came out to join us.

A highlight was to spend the day in the Niagara region as our son joined the five of us. We rode the Niagara Skywheel and toasted Han's birthday once more at Montana's restaurant where he had to don the dreaded horned hat for a birthday song.

And time again passed quickly...

This was a time of privilege for me. We love our friends. The house seemed decidedly empty the days after they left. We've poured over the hundreds of photos we took and we have dreams of meeting again much sooner...perhaps even next year in the Netherlands!

We are so grateful to the Lord for this reunion.

It's Just Too Much - Thursday, July 21

Not in my lifetime, have I seen temperatures like this. Not here. Not in Southern Ontario. I just checked the Weather Network and the humidex is 48 degrees celcius. They said it would get that high today, but I still sit here stupified. My dad called to ask if I thought that God was mad at us. And a sign posted in Markham says, "Satan called. He wants his weather back."  So I ask, what's happening?

Just went out grocery shopping, thinking - I have an air conditioned car. It's an air conditioned store. But the shortness of breath that I don't readily experience testified that being out there is down right perilous. What are the people doing without air conditioning in their homes? I must be kind and invite someone over.

To See the Minutiae

Lately I've been thinking about life. Life itself. Not the grand questions, not the "meaning of life," kinds of musings, but of living things. When I look across a yellow field of, what is it, canola?, I think of the millions of creatures living in that place - field mice, moles and voles, beetles and bees. Buzzing things and flying creatures, all created for purposes beyond my understanding.

 At my friend's house, all nestled at the edge of the forest, is an oasis of sound. Jays and Pileated woodpeckers, crows and the rustling of the trees themselves, breathing in the presence of their creator. There are not many places in everyday life that are conducive to contemplation. There are no reflection breaks penciled in on the lines of my daytimer. But life is there. It's everywhere. Every tiny creature, like the twinkling fireflies in my yard at dusk, shines for a moment, fulfills its purpose and is gone. I want to see, open my eyes and see....life.

Time to Breathe Again

      Oh, how wonderful to just sit and write once more! The last eight weeks have taken me through a whirlwind of essays and articles, assignments and powerpoints, report cards and graduations! There have been tornadoes of papers in my kitchen and twisters of printouts and handouts landing on every flat surface in the living room.  But time has done what it does best when you're busy....it flies! The school year ended in a blaze of tearful grade eight girls and generous gifts of appreciation all round. And in just three weeks, my course of study at Redeemer University will be over.

      Funny how we pressure ourselves into doing and doing, going and going. We were not created to be flying monkeys trying to catch our hats while swinging from tree to tree. In the midst of it all, I've tried to breathe deeply and know that these stresses are causing me to grow. I've conquered some relatively deep fears taking this course. I've felt like an awkward kindergarten child at times. And a forgetful dinosaur too. In a class of young primary teachers, I'm the old one. More experienced perhaps, but definitely not more knowledgeable. I've learned so much from these colleagues. I look forward to implementing new teaching practices. Not just because they're new. But because many of them are truly better. Not just the latest and greatest, but truly better approaches to creating book lovers. And as an Language teacher, that's my goal. So here I am again....writing, thinking out loud. I've sure missed this.

Just For A Bit

Dear friends, kind readers,
Life has a way of becoming more than crazy-busy at times and mine has taken this road of late. I am taking a course that adds many hours to an already full work week. It's not forever. It's just for a season, a three month season. And it's good. It's a course that will help me be a better teacher, a better reading teacher...and oh how I want my students to love to read!  That being said, I will take a break from blogging weekly, as I'm sure you've already noticed. Come the end of July, I'll start again, start the discipline of writing regularly. So till we meet again, God bless you!

Breakthrough

     After about five solid days of precipitation and giving in to the temptation to just hole up inside the house, it was time to venture out. So Sunday night about 6:30pm, my husband and I decided to go for a drive up to the lake. It's early in the season yet, to pack the car with fishing gear, so we just drove for the sake of driving. It was mostly a silent drive, a peaceful drive, as the radio in my car is broken. We left in light drizzle and about forty minutes into the excursion, the sun peaked through. And behold....a rainbow. A reminder of God's promises and faithfulness. And then we entered the "golden hour' - that time just before sunset until dusk, where everything changes colour. And this is what we saw:

The sky was crimson. After days of grey drizzle, it was all we could do to get pulled over to the side of the road safely and start snapping photos. And it got even more dramatic:

I couldn't help but think about God's glory, His provision, His handiwork. And breakthrough! There are areas in my life for which I need breakthrough. Patterns need to be broken, relationships mended, changes made. And here by the lake I was reminded that He lives and is in charge. The long days of rain will come to an end. He is the God of breakthrough! I look up!

Off to Camp

       Just spent about 30 hours with a bunch of 11-13 year olds at an outdoor camp north of here. It was raining much of the time, but the infectious glee exhibited by these kids was hard to ignore. The noise level, piercing at times, could not be diminished as their seeming freedom from the daily school routine fed the collective din. They loved it. We canoed, ran through the forest playing survival games and worked in teams to solve problems. The affect of this camping experience cannot be measured as yet. This is the stuff of memories.
       I got thinking back about twenty years to when my own son was a young camper….

       When my son was eight, he begged to go to camp, so I enrolled him, almost unthinkingly, at a Pentecostal Camp on Vancouver Island. This resulted in us having to take the ferry from Horseshoe Bay to Nanaimo and drive north to the camp. I don't know what I was thinking. We didn't know anyone who was going to the camp, though my friend and pastor had stayed there in one of the few private cottages and vouched for its reputation. I was a busy mom at the time, and probably longed for some sort of respite from full time mommyhood. A mother of an only child has special challenges. Having to be on all the time...the mom, the companion, the teacher, the friend. I needed a break! And so too, did he need a break from me. We didn't live in a particularly kid-friendly neighborhood in Vancouver, so buddies were not in abundance.  This would give him a much needed opportunity to hang with kids his own age.
        We pulled into the camp and much to my consternation, were advised that they were doing a "lice check" and not to be alarmed. Not the welcome I had hoped for. We were given a cabin number and a counselor's name and we set off to unpack. The camp seemed a little shabby, but my boy was beside himself with excitement. We laid out his sleeping bag on his bunk of choice, toured the grounds and I realized I had to go to catch the return ferry. He looked at me and said, "What do I do now, Mom?" I had no idea. I didn't know what to say. I wanted to grab his hand, pull him close and never let go. I wanted to take him home, tell him I was sorry for every time I showed impatience or ire and just keep him. But instead, I gave him a quick hug, a brush of a kiss and said, "Walk me to the car." I pointed out a group of kids and said, "See you in a week. You know you can call me anytime if you need me. Call me at work, call me at home. It doesn't matter. I love you, love you, love you!" And I let go of his hand. I let go of his hand….I tried not to look in the rearview mirror at that little boy, standing alone in the driveway. But I did. He turned and walked timidly toward the others.
         I cried all the way to the ferry. I cried in the bathroom on the ferry. I felt that strange exhilaration at knowing he was in safe hands and that my schedule was my own for six days, but there was that gut-wrenching guilt at feeling like I had abandoned him.
         It was a long six days. Long. I fought the urge to call until about Thursday. The camp office assured me that I wasn't the only parent who called to check and said he was fine. That would have to do until Saturday at noon, when I'd arrive back to fetch him.
         I didn't know what to expect. Perhaps a cold shoulder, a reproachful glance. But no… he came bounding up to the car with a big kid-made wooden cross on a string around his neck. He talked a mile a minute, recounting all the prayer times, worship services, altar calls. His eyes had a light in them, a new light. I asked about canoeing, and golf and archery and he went on about Jesus. I was humbled. He had been touched and comforted and befriended by the Prince of Peace.
         That was his first experience at that camp and he returned for five more summers after that. As he progressed into the teen years, his experience took on a different dynamic. It was all about friends, then girls, then dates for dances at teen camp. No more wooden cross around his neck, but he did tell of long worship services and encounters with the Lord. He was growing up in spite of me. He was his own person with his own destiny calling. It was so hard to let go. Was then, still is. But I’m grateful for all the help along the way….the teachers, the camp leaders, the youth leaders, and our beloved Heavenly Father, the parent of all.

The Cross...Our Life Saver