HAPPY 159TH BIRTHDAY - CANADA

O Canada! Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all of us command.
With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The True North, strong and free!
From far and wide
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

(Refrain)
God keep our land glorious and free!
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

O Canada! Where pines and maples grow.
Great prairies spread and lordly rivers flow.
How dear to us thy broad domain,
From East to Western Sea,
Though land of hope for all who toil!
Thou True North, strong and free!

O Canada! Beneath thy shining skies
May stalwart sons and gentle maidens rise,
To keep thee steadfast through the years
From East to Western sea,
Our own beloved native land!
Our True North, strong and free!

Ruler Supreme, who hearest humble prayer,
Hold our dominion within thy loving care;
Help us to find, O God, in thee
A lasting, rich reward,
As waiting for the Better Day,
We ever stand on guard

Newfoundland

The name “Dominion of Canada” was chosen by the Fathers of Confederation in 1867! They chose Psalm 72:8 as the key verse to represent Canada. “He shall have dominion also from sea to sea, and from the river unto the ends of the earth.” You can find this phrase on the Canadian coat of arms as well - “A Mari Usque Ad Mare” (Latin - “from sea to sea”.)

Vancouver Island

This land is your land, This land is my land,
From Bonavista, to Vancouver Island
From the Arctic Circle to the Great Lakes waters,
This land was made for you and me.

As I went walking that ribbon of highway,
I saw above me that endless skyway;
I saw below me that golden valley
This land was made for you and me.

I roamed and I rambled and I followed my footsteps,
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts;
While all around me a voice was sounding,
Saying this land was made for you and me.

The sun came shining, and I was strolling,
And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling;
As the fog was lifting, a voice was chanting,
This land was made for you and me.

This land is your land, this land is my land,
From Bonavista to Vancouver Island;
From the Arctic Circle to the Great Lakes waters,
This land was made for you and me.

Lake Huron Sunset (taken from my front yard)

Talking about “that ribbon of highway” - one of the most beautiful stretches of roadway (that I have driven) is the route from Sault St. Marie to Thunder Bay!

Terry Fox - 1980

It takes between 8 - 10 - 12 hours to make the drive - depending on how many times you stop. I remember it as if it were yesterday - but the first time I made that trip was the early summer of ‘81- when I was pregnant with our first born. We would make the drive the very next summer - with a 6 month old - and on that trip north - we would discover I was pregnant with our second born. The last time I drove north on highway 17 - it was to attend the funeral of my brother Tim - in July of ‘94. That was the saddest and hardest trip I’d ever taken - even with all the beauty all around me, I could hardly see through my tears.

Okay! Once you leave the Sault - you pass through cool towns like Goulais River - Harmony Beach - Jones Landing - Batchawana Bay - Pancake Bay (it was there where I was so sick with my first pregnancy) - Stone Beach - Alona Bay Scenic Lookout (we stopped there on the way home from Tim’s funeral - the picture of us siblings is haunting) - Old Woman Trail - Wawa (where the giant goose lives) - White River - Terrace Bay - Aguasabon Falls - Schreiber - Gurney - (northernmost point of Lake Superior) - Nipigon - Ouimet - Bowker - and finally - Thunder Bay. Part of the drive hugs the rugged coastline of Lake Superior - with breathtaking views - and part of the drive is through the vast northern forests with inland lakes.

A few highlights we enjoyed on our way north was a stop at Chippewa Falls - just 45 minutes north of Sault Ste. Marie. I remember the scenic waterfall and the sign that marked the exact halfway point of the Trans-Canada Highway. I like things like that. I have a picture of me standing beside it - I just don’t know where it is. We stopped at Wawa to snap a pic of the iconic 28 foot tall Goose. On the second trip north we stopped at Terrace Bay to see the 35 meter gorge and camped at Ouimet Canyon Provincial Park - the 100 meter deep gorge was breathtaking. I remember the black sand beach at Nipigon - almost burned my feet - and the water was so cold - but I stayed under because the deer flies and moose flies almost carried me away.

I’m a proud Canadian. There’s no other country in the world I’d rather live in. I’ve travelled to the US - to Europe - to the Caribbean - to Mexico - and have loved those vacations but as soon as I drive across the border or land on the runway in Toronto - I smile and say to myself “I’m home!”

MY SUMMER BINGO CARD

Recently I was visiting my grand daughter - Talia - when I noticed a paper stuck on her bedroom wall. It was filled with colours and words. Tali told me it was her summer bingo card - all the things she wants to do and accomplish from the end of the school year until the beginning of September. I was intrigued. How creative 15 year olds are.

I’m missing the whole outdoor season of pickle ball because of the LRTI surgery I had 6 weeks ago. While my right thumb is healing nicely, I’m still several weeks away from being able to hold my paddle and play. At about the ten/eleven week mark of healing, I’m having the same surgery on my left thumb. Getting both hands done and then - tada! The surgery has a 20 year guarantee - so that puts me into my late 80’s! Lots of years for more pickle ball!

So - since I’m not spending time on the court this summer - I’m taking a page from my grand daughter’s book and I’ve made my own Summer Bingo Card.

• Visit 4 coffee shops within 50 kms. of Kincardine

• Try 3 flavours of ice cream that I’ve never tasted

• Invite some friends for breakfast

• Hike part of the Bruce Trail

• Host a bbq theme night

• Make a summer playlist

• Watch fireworks

• Go to a Blue Jays game

• Ride a Ferris Wheel

• Go for a moonlight swim

• Visit a museum

• Dress up for supper on Wednesdays

• Walk without my phone 3x every week

• Ride the Chi-Cheemaun

• Watch a movie outdoors

• Have a slumber party with my grand daughters

• Write a letter and mail it

• Drive somewhere within 2 hours to a place I’ve never been

• Watch the sunrise

• Attend an outdoor music concert

• Write a short story

• Plan a progressive dinner

• Attend live theatre

• Read 4 books

Twenty - four fantastic activities planned! I’m all about setting goals and achieving them - especially this summer - and - I’m excited to have things to look forward to.

By the way - message me if you want to join me on any of my outings. I’ll love the company.

TIME IS A TICKING

Jim Croce wrote the following words in 1972 for his one year old son - “There never seems to be enough time to do the things you want to do once you find them.” Croce knew he wouldn’t have an eternity with his boy but he had less time than he knew. On September 21, 1973, Croce died in a plane crash at the age of thirty.

Every Tuesday morning from 8 - 9 am - you’ll find me at my church - the Harbour - with our small group. We enjoy 20 minutes of worship (singing) - 20 minutes of personal introspection - 20 minutes of corporate prayer. The theme for the last 12 weeks has been - “we make a difference”. Pastor Rob asked different ones to lead each week and next Tuesday it will be my turn. Thank you - Rob - for entrusting the opportunity to me to lead. I don’t take the responsibility lightly.

My specific theme for the morning is - Making a Difference - Multiply and Leaving a Legacy.

The reality is this - God is eternal, and our lives are short. It’s humbling. We are unbelievably small. And it’s a good thing for us to realize this.

Remember how short my time is!
For what vanity you have created all the children of man!
(Psalm 89:47)

It’s bewildering to the author of Psalm 89. It seems that he can’t get his head around this fact - how short life is and how fast it goes by. We often say things like - “we’re already halfway through another year” or “how can I possibly have a 15 year old grandchild - it seems my own kids were just teenagers” or “time -please slow down!”

I’ve been focusing - preparing - meditating - considering - Psalm 90.! Moses continues the “life is fleeting” theme from Psalm 89. He begins the Psalm by establishing Who God is and who man is. Psalm 90:1,2 says - “Lord, You have been our dwelling place in all generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever You had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God.”

I’ve been to Europe a few times and am mesmerized by the fact that some of the buildings I’ve seen are hundreds of years old - some over one thousand. Beautiful - stone castles - fortified structures - that protected kings and queens through centuries of enemy invasion. I’ve not been to Egypt - nor have I seen the King Tut exhibits - but I read a lot and I do know that they have artifacts that go back thousands of years. But long before Europe and Egypt existed - long before the mountains were formed - long before even the earth was formed - God was God. He has no beginning. He has no end.

I have experienced God being my Dwelling Place - my Refuge - personally and in profound ways - when I was 7 years old and moved to a new school and neighbourhood - when I was 16 and found out my Mom had cancer - when I was considering where to attend post secondary education - when Randy and I married - when Randy and I pastored - (particularly during difficult times) - when we needed wisdom while raising our sons - when my brother Tim drowned at 39 - when we became empty nesters - when Randy collapsed with a heart attack and passed away - when I remarried - always God - You are my dwelling place - my Refuge.

Moses continues the Psalm with this thought. “The years of our life are seventy or even by reason of strength eighty. So teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” If we live 70 years, our days will be 25,500. If we live 80 years, our days will be 29,200. As I write this, I have lived 24,836 days. It’s no wonder that Moses ( the guy who led the Israelites across the Red Sea) - the one who wrote the ten commandments - the one who led millions of people through the wilderness for 40 years - that guy) prayed that we should number our days and gain a heart of wisdom.

As I number my days - I’ve spent quite a lot of time considering the legacy I want to leave my family. The truths that I believe are these - if I want to have a lasting legacy - it is God who gives it and that legacy is about Him - not me. It’s not about money. It’s not about a financial inheritance. It’s not about having wonderful things said at a funeral. It’s not about naming buildings after a person. If our primary goal is that we are remembered for those things, we’ve missed the point.

The point is to pass on our spiritual legacy - values (unconditional love, compassion, humility and forgiveness) - wisdom (letters and journals of lessons learned) - stories (testimonies of family history - both triumphs and failures - resilience in times of difficulty) - and beliefs - family practices, celebrations, spiritual truths). I want my days to count - not waste a minute of them. I want my kids and grandkids to know the truths that have held me through my years. The truths that my parents and grandparents passed on to me.

And that heart of wisdom? What does that look like? A heart of wisdom is a heart that believes God’s promises. It is a heart that leans into His wise governance over all of life. It is a heart that turns away from anything that is not faith. A heart of wisdom believes that God’s Word is truth. A heart of wisdom trusts that God’s promises are for us. A heart of wisdom believes that God’s grace is sufficient. A heart of wisdom knows that God’s gifts to us are a blessing. A heart of wisdom knows that God’s love is powerful. A heart of wisdom trusts that God’s favour is on us. A heart of wisdom believes that God’s power is available to us - each and every day.

Psalm 145:4,6,7 “One generation shall commend Your works to another and shall declare Your mighty acts. They shall speak of the might of Your awesome deeds and I will declare Your greatness. Then shall pour forth the fame of Your abundant goodness and shall sing aloud of Your righteousness.”

Psalm 78:4,5,6 “We shall not hide them (the teachings) from the children, but tell to the coming generation. He established a testimony……to teach to their children, that the next generation might know them, the children yet unborn, and arise and tell them to their children, so that they should set their hope n God.

When we grasp how temporary this life is, it makes no sense to live for what’s temporary rather than what’s eternal. Amy Carmichael - an Irish missionary to India (1867 - 1951) said this - "“We will have eternity to celebrate the victories, but only a few hours before sunset to win them.”

More than anything else in this life - more than pleasure - more than travel - more than good food - more than sports - more than pickleball - more than friendship - my heart is for my family. I love the benediction from Numbers 6:24 - 26 “The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make His face to shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn His face toward you and give you peace.” Kari Jobe sings it in a song called The Blessing. My grandkids know that I pray this over them almost every day - because I tell them I do. “May His favour be upon you and a thousand generations - and - your family and your children - and their children - and their children. May His presence go before you - and behind you - and beside you - all around you - and within you - He is with you - He is with you. In the morning - in the evening - in your coming - and your going - in your weeping - and rejoicing - He is for you - He is for you.”

Picture courtesy of Adele Jolliffe

THE KDSS PICKLE BALL FUNDRAISER

We did it! The Pickle Ballers raised $1000.00 for the “March to a Million” Campaign for our local high school - KDSS.

Fifty pickle ballers and helpers gathered last Thursday evening to celebrate sport - character - meaning - and raise much needed funds for our local high school. Kincardine District Senior School’s new facility will begin the process of building in the next several months. It’s exciting. It’s thrilling. It’s going to be great for our community. It’s also expensive.

The Round Robin tournament featured 8 players on 5 courts and six players on the 6th court. Each player plays 7 games with 7 different partners against different combinations of opposing players. Rather than totalling up your wins - you total up your points. It’s great fun.

Two courts saw advanced players go head - to - head - with most games going the distance. 11 - 10. Very competitive. Great rallies. Passion. Grit. Thrills and chills. Two courts featured intermediate players - great fun - great competition. One court saw our Rec players - including two newbies to our sport - enjoy the evening of activity and entertainment and delight. The 6th court saw our high school teachers and students take part in our evening. We were encouraged to see them come and participate.

I loved and still do love - everything - school! My own high school years were some of the best of my life. I had great teachers - gym and music - my personal favourites. I had great coaches. I had good friends. High School was a tremendous positive in my life.

I also loved the years my sons were in high school. Randy and I rarely missed a game - volleyball - basketball - football - rugby - soccer - tennis - badminton. We were on the sidelines - cheering and encouraging. My only regret is that the years passed far too quickly.

I still love school - only now I see it and witness it through the eyes of my grandchildren. We attend the games here in town - and for my “out - of - town” families - I call - I text - I message with words of encouragemnt and love - checking in regularly of who is doing what when.

What makes a great school? What makes our local KDSS great? This!

#1. A strong and supportive community surrounds the school. Grandparents, parents, friends and the greater “village” leans into the school - with encouragement for both staff and students - volunteering time and effort when needed - reminding themselves and the school members that all are respected and honoured and belong.

I heard recently about a grandmother of one of the students at KDSS invites her grandson and a number of his friends over for lunch - everyday - feeds them - treats them - cleans up after them - gives them a place at her table. She never knows if there will be three or five or seven! Whoever comes through her back door is welcome. What grace. What love. What a blessing to those boys. They’ll never forget her. This woman exemplifies a strong and supportive community.

#2. Feedback. Meaningful feedback is always important. Whether it’s at school, in the home or workplace - it is good to get in the practice of asking for it - listening to the answers - putting it into practice.

When our boys were in middle/high school - we practiced this very thing in our home. We had three strong virtues that we practiced as a family and reviewed them regularly with the boys. We would discuss whether we needed to add anything or change anything - whether we were too strict or too lenient - and always - asked our sons how we were doing as parents. Sometimes we’re afraid of feedback - that it will be all negative - most times it’s positive. But even in negative feedback - there are lessons to be learned.

#3. A standard of behaviour and discipline. Just like in a home - in society - in the workplace - in the sports arena - schools - too - must continue this practice.

We had the great privilege of raising three really nice humans. From the time the boys were babies, we established a fairly regular routine. It was nothing special - at least I thought that at the time. Now I realize how special it was. I was home with our boys - all day - every day. Throughout those days we ate - we played (inside and out) - we rested - we read - we played with friends - we tidied up - we did chores - we enjoyed each day. When behaviour was unfavourable - there were consequences. When we gave instructions to our toddlers - it wasn’t negotiated. The hardest work was done before they went to school. Truly.

Society - homes - workplaces - schools - can’t exist in chaos. There must be order. There must be structure. Grateful our local school practices a strong standard.

#4. The Facility and the Equipment. I had the amazing opportunity of attending a brand new high school - for grades 11-13. The original St. Lawrence High School on Second Street in Cornwall was too small for its population. The new St. Lawarence was built for a bilingual population students and the old building became the city’s only all french school - La Citadel. Even back in the 1970’s - our school was modern and up-to-date. Top of the line gymnasium - sporting equipment and laboratories - cafeteria - full stage for productions - football field and 8 lane track. Those things made our school top notch and a pleasure to attend.

#5. Huge commitment to extra-curricular activities. Music - sports - drama - clubs etc. It is during these activities that students benefit socially - physically - emotionally - learn teamwork - perfect leadership - and learn life long skills.

The high school I attended had a points program - whereby - a student could accumulate points by participating in extra curricular activities. I was involved in sports - the band - and the musicals our school performed. Through my years at St. Lawrence I accumulated enough points to earn my school sweater with the year I graduated sewn on the sleeve. My grand daughter wears that sweater now. She loves it.

It’s for these reasons and more that the Pickle Ballers in Kincardine and area wanted to contribute to the “March to a Million” campaign. As we invest our time, money and energy - it will be our joy to cheer for - encourage and bless the next generation. Our grandchildren and perhaps great grandchildren will greatly benefit from attending this beautiful, brand new school.

MATTERS OF THE HEART

So a thing happened ten days ago. It was a week ago Monday - to be exact. It was a pretty normal day - Harv went golfing - I had a leisurely morning - had my coffee - breakfast - read the news online - had my regular Bible reading and prayer time -went for a long walk - spent the afternoon writing and reading. Nothing upsetting. No stress. Everything was absolutely normal.

Until it wasn’t.

I started to feel ill around 4 pm. Lightheaded, Nauseated. Fatigue. Heart Burn. Dizzy. Weakness. I lay down on my bed and hoped it would all go away. Harv had prepped supper but when I sat down at the table - I knew it was a no go. I went back to bed but shortly there after, I felt like I was going to be sick to my stomach. As I was sitting on the bathroom floor - hovering over the toilet - I didn’t know if I’d throw up first or faint.

Only one thought came to my head - “I won’t have a heart attack on my bathroom floor.”

I called Harv and told him he needed to get me to the hospital.

I was triaged very quickly - they took me right in. The nurse doing my vitals - asked me if my blood pressure was normally elevated. I said a bit - sometimes when I was at the doctor’s. Maybe a bit of “white coat syndrome". This was not the case now. My bp was registering over 200.

Throughout the evening - the staff took excellent care of me - ECG - blood work - urine samples - everything came back “ticketey boo” - normal. The doctor said - no damage to my heart at all - but was concerned with the “anti-inflammatory” meds I was taking for the thumb surgery. Too much in my inactive system - and the fact of my family’s history of high blood pressure - was the probable cause of the tremendous spike. By 10 pm - my bp was “down” to 164 - (they had given me a small dose of medication to continue to bring it down) - and sent me home. The kind doctor kindly reminded me that if any symptoms popped up through the night - to get back to emergency “stat”.

I’ve thought a lot about my heart this past week! I didn’t know how hard it works for me! I found out that it beats over 100,000 times every day. It pumps 1.5 gallons of blood every minute. I can’t even comprehend that. I wasn’t aware that I have 60,000 miles of blood vessels in my body. How? Where? And more heart attacks happen on a Monday (statistically). Why?

There are so many quotes about the Heart! Home is where the heart is. Follow your heart. That person has a heart of gold. Learn something by heart. Wear your heart on your sleeve. Take something to heart. A change of heart. Have a heart. The heart garners a lot of attention.

Emotionally - spiritually - physically - the heart is fragile - yet so powerful. Life-giving. Sometimes swayed. Easily moved. Sometimes fickle but always strong when faced with difficulties. It is fierce when protecting those we love. Out of the heart the mouth speaks.

I’m thankful for the Bible and its encouraging verses regarding the heart.

I’m encouraged by the prophet Ezekiel when he says - “I (God) will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you. I will remove your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.” I’ve been there! Times when my heart is hard and angry - I’ve said things that I wish I could take back - I’ve thought thoughts that I’m not proud of…..and then I’m reminded that a fresh start is always offered. Forgiveness is granted.

I love the Psalms! King David wrote many of them - probably when he was a young teenager - while caring for his sheep - under the star lit sky. I can see him in my mind’s eye. His writing in Psalm 34:8 has comforted me so any times - “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” I’ve been there. So broken that I could hardly breathe. Crushed. But what joy knowing that God was close - was near.

I know and understand the importance of protecting my heart because my actions and life choices originate from it. Proverbs - written by the wisest man who ever lived - Solomon - is filled with wise sayings. Solomon wrote - “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” Guard it. Don’t give it away easily. Don’t allow things and people into it who have no business of being there. What goes into it - comes out. I’ve been there!

John Piper said this about the heart - “Whenever your heart starts to be anxious about the future - preach to your heart and say to it - ‘Heart - will you nullify the promises of God because of fear?’ By no means. Do not exalt yourself with anxiety. Lean into peace and joy as you trust the precious and great promise of God - He cares for you.”

I’ve always admired my siblings - I’ve looked up to them - I’ve been mentored by them - I’ve followed their examples in so many ways - I love them all - and now - I’ve been admitted into their group - the BP group. One that I had hoped not to join for a bit - I thought diet and exercise would keep me out of that group. And it did - for a lot of years. (Sometimes I forget that I’m creeping - oh so close - to “3 score and 10!”) DNA trumps most things! Grateful for the meds that are keeping my bp where it should be - 120/79.

Guard your heart.

1976

I loved growing up in Cornwall, Ontario. We lived at 13 Elm Street until I was 7 and then moved to 758 Sandfield Crescent. I attended West Front Public School for Kindergarten to grade 2 - Gladstone Public School for the last half of grade 2 through grade six - Central Public School for grades 7 and 8 - and - St. Lawrence High School for grades 9 - 13!

My hometown is where a piece of my heart will always be. It’s where I grew up.

No one really warns you about the part of adulthood - the part where you feel homesick - not for a house - but for a moment in time. A version of life that doesn’t exist anymore. A place you can’t return to and a feeling you didn’t know you’d miss so much until it was gone!

Cornwall, Ontario. Population - 48,000. It seemed so big then….it’s not really. A small - lovely city on the edge of the St. Lawrence River in eastern Ontario. The big bridge to the USA is gone now - Domtar (the paper mill) is also gone. The waterfront has been revamped. It’s beautiful. It’s my hometown.

I was 6 months old when the St. Lawrence Seaway project reached a massive milestone. The Moses-Saunders Power Dam was completed, coffer dams were blown open, and a vast area was flooded to form Lake St. Lawrence. The resulting flood submerged nine Ontario communities and one island, collectively known as the "Lost Villages" - Aultsville, Dickinson's Landing, Farran's Point, Maple Grove, Mille Roches, Moulinette, Ross's Point, Santa Cruz, Wales, and Sheek's Island. Over 6,500 residents were uprooted, with many homes physically relocated to newly planned towns like Long Sault and Ingleside.

I remember so many Easter Sunday sunrise services - watching the sun come up - in the Seaway building.

As a child, my friend and I loved to walk to the library on Saturday mornings and then head to Woolworths to buy a plate of fries and a coke - before we walked home.

I played badminton and tennis through the years. I took piano lessons for 9 years. I went to choir and youth group at my church.

I ate breakfast - lunch - and - supper with my family.

We walked everywhere or rode our bikes. We went for Sunday afternoon drives and always stopped for an ice cream cone.We watched hockey on Wednesday and Saturday nights. We attended the Baptist church. It’s where I was dedicated as a baby and baptized as a teenager. My sisters all had their weddings in the Baptist church. It’s also where we had so many funeral services for grandparents and aunts and uncles and most recently, three years ago - for my brother Ted.

We ate our meals at home. We came home from school for lunch. I only remember eating in a restuarant once - with all our family. We went camping on the Long Sault parkway. We picnicked with friends on the spur of the moment. We played board games and card games. Pete and Heather and their kids are still using the crokinole board that we used as kids. We did our homework at the dining room table. We did the dishes after supper. We played outside until the street lights came on. Life was good.

And all of a sudden I was in grade 13!

My grade 13 year was the best. Early in September - I was encouraged by some of my teachers to run for student body president. (What’s the hassle - vote for Castle). I won! It was an exciting year - planning events for the student body - representing our school at special events - and going to a conference in Ottawa. At that conference I met a player from the Ottawa RoughRiders and invited some of their players to come to Cornwall to play our senior boys basketball team in an exhibition game. They came! What a night.

I played basketball and volleyball and badminton - and that year - I went to OFSSA for badminton - and lost in the quarter finals. Our team travelled to TORONTO and stayed overnight for two nights in a hotel. That was big stuff back in ‘76.

I thought I wanted to go to university but didn’t have the $25. for the application fee. I didn’t ask my parents for it and never did apply. I would go on to Tyndale Bible College and Seminary and earn my Bachelor of Religious Education Degree (a Christian focused BA).

In the winter of my grade 13 year - Randy moved to Cornwall! He came over to our home on Saturday nights to watch the hockey game with my Dad and Mom and me. Even on the Saturday nights when I was babysitting - Randy would be over watching the game with my folks. Our first date was at a restaurant in Ottawa - called the HayLoft. All that spring “we hung out”. In June - just before the athletic banquet and graduation - we visited my grandmother in the nursing home. Gramma Castle had had a stroke years before and although she couldn’t move well - she could talk! At some point during that visit - Gramma asked me if Randy “was my young man.” I turned to him and asked him that same question! He said yes and the rest is history. He was my date for the athletic banquet - graduation - and for everything else for the next 39 years.

I was selected to be the valedictorian at my graduation. I was surprised because it was my English teacher - Miss Columbus - who told me that my classmates and teachers had chosen me. I was not one of Miss C’s favourites because I missed too many classes to play sports! Nevertheless - graduation night was magical. I remember sharing memories of our years at St. Lawrence - great wins in the gym over our cross town rivals - agonizing defeats to same rivals - amazing music concerts performed - plays and musicals acted - dances and proms - and hopes and dreams for our futures. Some wanted to marry and have children. Some wanted to get a job and “get out of Cornwall.” Some wanted to travel. I’ve lost touch with most of my classmates. I wonder what happened to them.

Fifty years! So much life lived since that wonderful year. My head is chalked full with my own good memories.

I know I sure don’t have 50 more years on this earth. Methuselah - I’m not! But until my last breath - I will -

• Cherish each and every moment.

• Inhale the peace that God promises me.

• Look for the wonder in the sunset.

• Rejoice in hope.

• Smile at strangers.

• Use my gifts and strengths.

• Honour my memories.

• Believe that miracles are still possible.

• Forgive the past.

• Hope for the future.

• Love like I mean it.

• Know that while all may not be well in this old world - it is well with me soul.

THE NERVE BLOCK

On Monday, May 11th, I had an operation on my right hand. The surgery is called ligament reconstruction and tendon interposition - LRTI. This particular surgery has been in use for more than 40 years and it is the most commonly performed surgery for thumb arthritis. Basically this is how it works. The damaged joint surfaces are removed and are replaced with a tissue that keeps the bone separated. A nearby tendon is detached at one end and passed through a hole drilled through the thumb’s metacarpal bone. The remaining tendon is rolled up like an anchovy and placed into the space where the bone was removed. I expect to be in the cast for at least 4 weeks and then will rehab after that. 

I've had arthritis in both of my thumbs for the last 10 to 15 years. I'm at the point where I can't use a can opener, can't unscrew the lid off of a  bottle,  can't hold on to my golf clubs, can't grasp the weight bar with weights on it, can't knit - And so much more - So I knew it was time.

The journey to last Monday was a long one. More than 2 years ago, my doctor sent a requisition to a surgeon in London - and I've yet to hear from that Specialist.Waiting - waiting - waiting! Last fall a friend of mine told me that she had had the surgery in Kitchener and recommended her surgeon! My doctor sent a requisition to his office and after meeting him in February -  he set up the first surgery for my right hand last week.  The second surgery will be in July on my left hand.

Enough about the logistics. What I really want to write about today is the nerve block.

That was the craziest part of the surgery day.  After I was settled in my room, the anesthetist arrived to administer the nerve block. She had me raise my right arm in front of me - bend my  elbow -  and proceeded to stick a needle under my arm. I was reminded several times that once the block took effect my arm would be dead weight. A short time later a nurse arrived and asked me how I was doing. I answered her with..” my arm is missing!” She assured me it was right by my side.

Interestingly enough, the brain remembers where your limb was before the block was administered. My arm was in front of my body and that's what my brain remembered.

I've been fascinated by this fact for the last 10 days - How our minds protect our hearts - how our minds block out the things that have hurt us -  how we remember the good things.

Isaiah 61:7, 8 “ Instead of your pain -  there shall be a double portion -  instead of dishonour - they shall possess a double portion - they shall have everlasting joy. For I the Lord love justice. I hate robbery and wrong. I will faithfully give them their recompense, and I will make an everlasting Covenant with them.”

Through scriptures like this one in Isaiah, I’m reminded of God’s love and grace to bless me with a double portion of everlasting joy for the pain and grief that I have experienced in my life.

Five months after Randy died - I attended a woman's conference with my friend Blaire. We left Friday afternoon and headed up Highway 11 to the Huntsville area to spend the weekend with 200 women at a conference center. We checked into our room, enjoyed a delicious supper in the dining room and then found our seats in the auditorium for the evening session. When my heart is grieving, I often cry when music starts. Hymns and songs often trigger what I'm feeling deepest in my soul and that night was no different. The tears started and It was difficult to get them under control. I managed to stay in the room but when the speaker introduced her topic of marriage and husband/wife relationships, I was done in. I quietly slipped out the back and into the washroom. My friend Blaire followed me and she asked me what I wanted to do. I desperately just wanted to go home. My grief was too raw. My heart's pain was physical. Blaire packed my suitcase -  packed me into the car and drove me home.

As I am typing the events of that Friday night, my heart doesn't remember the pain. I only remember the kindness and love of my friend. I only remember that she cared more about me than about attending the conference. 

When Randy and I were first married and talked about having children, we both agreed that five would be a great number. Our sons were born in 1982, 1983 and 1984. When I went into labour with Zac in January of 1982, I anticipated flying through the labour and delivery. I was young and naive really. I did my makeup - I painted my nails - because I was going to be like the beautiful women on television who gave birth and then got up and ran a 5K. I was surprised that after 30 hours of labour, I needed a cesarean section. Consequently, Ben and Pete were both born by C-section as well. Back in the day when we were having our children, three sections were the maximum. 

This grieved me at the time. I had my heart set on five children. I was 26 years old and the realization that my childbearing years were over was sobering. I felt robbed. I felt cheated. I was grateful for my three young sons but knew that Randy and I had lots of love to have more children. Having grown up in a family of 9 children - 3 didn’t seem enough.

But through the years God has given me opportunities to open my heart and home to countless young people…..one time when we were living in Cambridge, I arrived home one a very hot June afternoon to find Pete and his rugby team - including the coaches - in our pool - in the kitchen - in the rec room playing ping pong - eating anything and everything that wasn't nailed down. I was so thankful that our boys knew our home was a welcome place to come. At that very same house in Cambridge - the teens gathered every Sunday night - to watch a movie or to play board games. Every one of those Sunday nights, we would pop over to Little Caesars and order as many $5 pizzas as we needed to. Some nights it was five pizzas and some nights it was 15 pizzas.  The teenagers would devour them. 

The greatest blessing in my life besides raising my three sons are the girls they married. My mom always told me that one day I'd have daughters too. She was right. Once again, I've received a double portion. 

“If in a quiet moment you get the chance to ruminate over an old wound or painful memory -  OR -  worship the God Who offers you a double portion and everlasting Joy - I hope you worship.” 

COSTA RICA MISSIONS TRIP - LIFE CHANGING

After months and months of planning - our team of twelve from the Harbour Church - left thirteen days ago for Costa Rica. We left Kincardine at 8:30 am - full of anticipation for the things we planned to do - full of excitement to visit a new country - full of hope that we would accomplish our goals - full of awe that we were finally on our way.

Ready to go!

We travelled from Kincardine to Toronto - Toronto to Montreal - and then - Montreal to San Jose - arriving around 11 pm. Our hosts - Gary and Cathy met us at the airport and and we were settled in a nearby hotel by midnight. It was a long day of travel but so grateful to have finally arrived. That first night - Ashley, Kendra , Bella and I shared a room and Kendra and I - a bed! Kendra told me that sometime in the night - I sat up - nudged her - asked her if she was okay - and then, laid right down again! I love those young moms! It was the beginning of a week of laughter and tears - stories and memories shared - and new memories made.

After 4 hours of sleep - we were up at 4:15 am. - ready to make our way to the Indigenous community of Amubri. The drive took us through the mountains - a two lane highway that zig zagged back and forth - tight curves - and I must admit - I wondered if we would arrive safe and sound!!! So rich in vegetation. The country is so lush and green. So beautiful.

Breakfast coffee cart

We stopped at a really cool restaurant for breakfast where we were served a traditional meal - rice and beans - spicy sausage - scrambled eggs and plantain - more food than I could eat. We continued our journey - stopping at Limon (on the coast) and had the chance to dip our toes in the Caribbean Sea. While in Limon, we took the opportunity to visit the town’s park and lo and behold - there was a Momma Sloth and her baby tucked into the crook of a very tall tree. My first sighting of wildlife.

We continued south - along the coast - and just before reaching the Panama border, we turned inland. We drove and drove and drove until there was no more road. We had reached the Rio Lari (river) and the only way to cross was by boat. We emptied the van of our luggage and supplies and waited for our transportation to arrive.

After a quick trip across the river - we were finally in Amubri.

First job - set up camp! Fifteen of us in one room for 5 nights! You really get to know each other quite well! A symphony of snoring every night. The night sounds of the jungle. Dogs coming to life after the hot days and they bark and play and fight. Cats meow. Toads and frogs croak away. Crickets chirp. My ear plugs didn’t work very well!!!! The tents kept us safe from mosquitos though.

The theme for our mission team was from Romans 15:13 - “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.” We wanted our new friends to know that God sees us - God is with us - God loves us - God provides for us - and always, always - gives us hope.

After our “bedroom” was set up - we enjoyed our first meeting with the Amubri church. My Spanish vocabulary was limited but I managed to communicate with smiles and gestures. It was a pleasure to meet Pastor Jersen, his lovely wife, Natasha and their sweet little girl, Samaria.

We spent five days in the community of Amubri with our mornings beginning around 5:30 am. Breakfast was at 6 and after a very hearty breakfast, our team divided into two - painters and builders. I was in the painting group. Over the four work days we painted the outside of the church building and the pastor’s home - bright blue on the top and vibrant purple on the bottom. They loved it.

The other group did the harder labour. They filled at least 100 bags of sand (from the river) to make the cement - they put up the walls for two classrooms - they dug the trench that will eventually house the fence posts and fence to keep the kids safe from going on the road - and after making the cement, they made a floor. All the work was done in very hot weather - over 30 degrees most days and very humid.

In the afternoon - after school - the children arrived for kid’s camp. We sang songs - danced - shared Bible Stories - played games - made crafts - and at the end of the day - sent the children home with gifts and candy and cookies. The kids loved it. We loved it. No matter what country you are in the world - kids are kids. They love the attention. They love to sing. They love to dance. They love to play. They love candy and gifts.

I taught the story one day with the help of the translator, Brandon.

The Izzy dolls were a great hit with the kids.

After 5 sleeps, we woke knowing it was already time to pack up the tents and air mattresses - our clothes and personal items - have our last breakfast with our new friends and say our good-byes. It wasn’t easy to bid farewell. In fact it was painful. Our ties had run deep so very quickly. All of us on our team had formed a relationship with so many from the Amubri church - we were definitely going to miss them and our time together. I will never forget them.

Our hosts while in the country were Gary and Cathy - who serve as overseers to the Pentecostal churches in Costa Rica. They spent the whole eight days with us. Before we left for home - they treated us to an afternoon at the beach (the Caribbean Ocean was gloriously warm and some good rolling waves) - overnight at Rancho Tranquillo - where we all slept in a real bed and had a hot shower. (Did I mention that while we were in Amubri - the hot water tap didn’t register!!!! I didn’t linger!) We spent our last evening - as our group of 12 - reflecting on the week that was - sharing stories - singing and praying together.

We woke early on our last day in Costa Rica - 4 am - ready to leave at 5 - to get through the mountain. It was Labour Day in the country so the roads and communities were very busy as everyone was enjoying a day off. Gary and Cathy planned for us to enjoy a visit to an animal rescue centre and waterfalls. It was there that I was able to dab my bingo card that Adele and Indigo made for me.

All too soon it was time to grab a bit of supper and then head to the airport. Our flight was leaving close to midnight and we were all pretty tired as we settled into our seats. The five hours flew by - even though I don’t think I got much sleep. A few seats behind us there was a young momma - a toddler and an unhappy baby. The Momma was pretty tired and was at her witt’s end to settle the little guy. As one point (near the end of the flight) I stopped by her row and asked her if she wanted me to walk him. She shook her head “no” and said “I don’t know what else to do!” I looked at the baby and spoke quietly to him. I told him that his Momma was tired too and that they both needed to close their eyes and go to sleep. Miraculously he did. When we were disembarking I glanced back and all three were still sleeping. The baby whisperer?

At our team meetings prior to going to Costa Rica - Pastor Rob - our team leader - countlessly reminded us that this trip wasn’t about us - it was about them - the people we would meet there - the children we would interact with - the mothers and fathers - the men who would help with the building - the drivers of the van, truck, boat - the people we would cross paths with at the airport - any one of them and all of them would be impacted by our smiles, our words and our actions. Our team worked so well together - different personalities - different backgrounds - different ages - men and women - working together for one thing - to bless and encourage the folks in Amubri.

We arrived back in Kincardine around 4 pm on Saturday afternoon - tired - but full of thanksgiving for the 8 days we spent in the country of Costa Rica. I’ll never forget the 8 days I spent in Costa Rica. I’ll never forget the night sounds - the sounds of the children’s laughter - the ladies chatting as they cooked our food - the grunts and sighs as the guys lifted the bags of sand from the truck - the singing of the Amubri church - Pastor Jersen’s passionate prayers - the quiet moments of conversations with the young moms as we were cooling off in the creek - the shrieks coming from the cold showers - the snores - the laughter - the tears - those moments will last the rest of my life.

STREAKS

Joe Dimaggio had a 56 game hitting streak in 1941. Cal Ripken Jr. played 2,632 consecutive game from 1982 - 1998. Edwin Moses ran the 400 meter hurdles and won 122 times in a row during the years 1977 - 1987. Glenn Hall backstopped 502 consecutive games in the NHL from 1955 - 1962. These streaks represent unmatched dominance and endurance in sports.

John C Maxwell said - “Small disciplines repeated with consistency every day lead to great achievement gained slowly over time.”

On a personal note - I love keeping track of my daily distances. I never imagined that exactly one year ago my current streak of walking at least 10,000 steps daily would begin but here we are one year later and I’ve done it.

A very long time ago (2009) I took a few courses through CanFitPro in order to become a fitness instructor and personal trainer. I loved the courses and taught fitness for the next several years. One of the things I learned then and continue to put into practice today is to set SMART GOALS. #1. Specific (define your goals clearly so you know exactly what you’re working toward). #2. Measurable (decide how you will track your progress). #3. Achievable (make sure your goal is realistic based on your abilities and abilities). #4. Relevant (make sure your goal aligns with your daily priorities). #5. Time (keep focused and motivated for a specific period). Be SMART.

My daily physical goal is to walk 10,000 steps daily. I used to be a runner but because I suffered a hamstring injury in 2019 - I don’t run anymore. I’ve made my peace about not running anymore. Now I walk and play pickle ball. (My mom would be pleased! She never loved that I ran so much!) Between the two sports - the steps add up in a hurry.

There are so many benefits from walking and getting your heart rate up. Walking will trim your waistline and improve your overall health. The Mayo clinic says - walking will -

• Maintain a healthy weight and lose body fat

• Prevent or manage various conditions, including heart disease, stroke, high blood pressure, cancer and type 2 diabetes

• Improve cardiovascular fitness

• Strengthen your bones and muscles

• Improve muscle endurance

• Increase energy levels

• Improve your mood, cognition, memory and sleep

• Improve your balance and coordination

• Strengthen immune system

• Reduce stress and tension

There's an old saying that if you want to go fast, go alone; if you want to go far, go together. I do walk alone but I’d rather walk with a friend. My friend - Julie and I - (the friend who I’ve talked into doing some wild adventures with - climbing Mount Christoffel in Curacao - going to a pickle ball weekend at a camp that didn’t have running water for the first 24 hours and no wifi unless you climbed a tree and held your breath etc) - try to walk together a few times a month. It was Julie who helped me train for my Camino walk two summers ago. We’re good for each other. We moved to Kincardine around the same time - 10 years ago - both of us have trained for and completed triathlons and running events - both of us are in a second relationship - both of us love cycling (slowly) - both of us work out with weights - both of us play pickle ball - both of us love reading and discussing the books we’ve read - and most important - both of us can fill a couple of hours of walking with great conversation. And then after walking for two hours, we stand at the corner before we split for our respective homes and talk some more. I always feel better after our walks and talks. Julie has completed a few streaks of her own of which I’m extremely proud of her. She’s an inspiration to me.

In saying all these things about walking and achieving my personal goal of 10,000 steps a day for the past year - I must be clear that while I believe physical exercise is excellent - my greater goal is my inner self - my spiritual self. There would be no point of being in the most awesome physical shape if my soul - my inner self - was unkind and mean. I must “train” myself to the daily consistency of loving others - being grateful - joy filled living and being an encourager. It’s my desire to “hate what is evil and hold fast to what is good - to show honour - to rejoice in hope - show patience and bless others.” May I measure these things with great consistency - even more than the physical steps I take.

Just like Dimaggio and Ripken and Hall’s streaks eventually ended - I expect my streak to come to an end this Saturday. I’ll be in Costa Rica on the missions trip and our Saturday schedule is the long bus ride into the interior of the jungle (think 4:45 am - 4:00 pm) so there won’t be much time for walking. And that’s okay! There’s always next week to begin a new streak. It was fun while it lasted.

EIGHT SLEEPS

Eight more sleeps!

That’s all! I’ve had my shots! I’ve been practicing my Spanish! I’ve put together my limited wardrobe. I’ve heard from the leaders what to expect - what we’re going to be doing - what the schedule is going to be. I’ve read up on the country. I’ve prayed. I’ve embraced the fact that this trip is very unknown to me. I’ve set my mind that this is not about me. Am I ready? Until I land in Costa Rica next Friday night, I won’t really know for sure.

I’m going on this week long adventure because God did something in my heart last fall - I knew deep down in my soul that I must go. As soon as our church - The Harbour - announced it was sending a team (this spring) to Costa Rica - I knew I needed to be on it. When I shared with Harv my desire to go - he certainly encouraged me to apply and has supported me all the way. I have a great sense of peace and confidence to go to this unknown place (to me) because God has orchestrated the whole thing - the team members - the dates - and the timing - especially the timing.

(This past February I met with a surgeon regarding my arthritic thumbs and the possibility for surgery this year. He set my surgery date for May 11th - Ligament Reconstruction and Tendon Interposition (LRTI) - without knowing that I would be away from April 24 - May2. I was so thankful that the missions trip could happen before the surgery takes place.)

I’m confident - that God - who has walked with me through the details of preparation has also been constructing the details for those in Costa Rica. He will be present with me and the team and those we meet - the whole time.

I’ve heard from others to be prepared for the unexpected. One person shared that on a particular trip - he ate the strangest thing…….a local lady handed him his lunch - a banana leaf with a cooked frog inside! Please let me not have that surprise! Our pastor has reminded us at every prep meeting that this trip is not about us - it’s about those we are going to serve and bless. “Leave your ego at home!”

We were asked to prepare a “personal introduction” for the first night - so the other day, Pete, came over to help me with mine. Pete and Heather spent a year - teaching in Mexico several years ago - and learned the Spanish language. (It came in handy when we went to Spain two summers ago to walk the Camino. When we arrived at our destination each afternoon - Zac and I would sit in a cafe while Pete found us our accommodation for the night).

Here’s how I will introduce myself next Saturday night when we arrive in Amburi - meeting the local pastors - Jerson and Natasha and their small congregation.

Ola Ticos! Ola soy Marta! Soy do Canada! Tengo tres hijos y diez nietos. Mi esposo se llama Harvey. Amo a Jesus’. Jesus’ mi ama. Su país es hermoso. Estoy feliz de estar aquí. Me puedes llamarme Abuela. Si Christo mi ama. Gracias! Pura vida!

You might be interested to know that we fly Friday, April 24th and arrive in San Jose at 10:55 pm. We will have a “short nap” in our hotel as we have to be on the bus at 5:00 am! Drive - breakfast - drive - lunch - drive - drive - drive! Around 3 pm we will take a river boat taxi - then walk - arriving shortly thereafter in the jungle community of Amburi.

Saturday night we will enjoy a community “pot-luck” supper and fellowship with the group of believers there! I can’t wait to meet them. Even now - my heart is pounding - the tears at the edge of my eye lids are sneaking down my cheeks. I’m overwhelmed with gratitude.

Sunday/Monday/Tuesday/Wednesday - Up by 4:45! Breakfast! 7 am - Noon - Construction work. Lunch time! Siesta! 2:15 - 4:15 - Children’s Ministry - stories and songs and crafts and games! Supper time! Sharing time together! Bed! We will be sleeping on the floor inside the chapel - on air mattresses and under a mosquito tent! We’ve been warned not to bring any food or drink inside the mosquito tent - the mesh keeps the mosquitos out but not the ants!)

Thursday am. - we will pack up and say our goodbyes! Before we fly home on Friday/Saturday though, the local pastor and his wife have planned for our team to experience the beauty of Costa Rica - a trip to through the national park - featuring wildlife (jaguars, ocelots and monkeys and more! My grand-daughters are preparing a bingo card for me as I travel through the park! We’ll stop at the ocean for a swim - We’ll visit a coffee plantation and a chocolate grove and then spend overnight at Tranquility - where we will sleep in a real bed!

Friday - we make the long trip back to San Jose and begin the trip home. We arrive in Toronto at noon on Saturday!

During the children’s afternoon ministry - I’m involved with the preparing and playing of the games! (No surprise there! Not a crafty person).

The whole theme of our trip - for us and for those in Amburi - is “overflowing with hope!” We will be sharing these Bible stories with the kids - - The four friends who lowered their paralyzed friend through the roof (sharing the hope) - - Jesus calming the storm (Hope in the storm) - - The story of the lost sheep (Hope is a gift) - - The miracle of the loaves and fishes (Overflowing with joy!)

Eight sleeps and I’ll be leaving on a jet plane. Hasta Luego! Te lo contare’todo canda llegue a case!

IN THE MIDDLE OF THESE TOUGH DAYS........FINDING JOY IN THE ORDINARY!

Have you read the headlines lately? Watched the news? Checked out the gas prices? “Ceasefire appears fragile as Israel attacks Lebanon.” “Iran closes Strait of Hormuz again in response to Israeli attacks in Lebanon.” “Oil and fuel prices to remain high!” “Man charged after mother pushing stroller robbed in Vancouver.” “Former Conservative MP crosses floor to Liberals.” Every day! Every hour! We are inundated with world news and these days it’s terrifying.

I’m heartbroken for our world. I’m heartbroken for the moms and dads whose sons and daughters are fighting in a war they didn’t ask to be in. I’m heartbroken for the children - all across our world - dodging bombs instead of playing sandlot soccer. I’m heartbroken for the parents trying to stretch their paycheques at the grocery store - at the gas pump - at the department store - at any store. I’m heartbroken for those who are anxious - for those who are afraid - for those who apprehensive - for those who are ‘on edge’ - for those who are panicked and desperate.

In the middle of these tough days - finding joy in the ordinary is necessary and important. I’m choosing to focus on other things.

Like - going to the theatre with my oldest son. Last Friday night Zac treated Harv and I with tickets to Bach’s Mass in b minor - in box seats, no less. The Kitchener- Waterloo Symphony and the Grand Philharmonic Choir were outstanding - amazing - breath-taking. This glorious music was first heard in Leipzig on Christmas Day, 1724. For over three hundred years - “Lord, have mercy. Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men of good will. We praise Thee, we bless Thee, we worship Thee, we glorify Thee. Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of hosts. Hosanna in the highest. O Lamb of God, that takes away the sins of the world, have mercy on us” - has left audiences and congregations wanting to hear it again and again.
The music moved me. My mind was fixed on these words and my heart was encouraged.

Like - going to the Sugar Bush on Easter Sunday afternoon with the grandkids. There is nothing like tramping through the bush on a spring afternoon - kids running here and there - tasting the sap in the pails - watching the crackling fire as the pot of sap boils away - listening to the young teenaged boy passionately speak about maple trees - how they clean cut the woods to allow the maples to grow big and strong - how the oldest tree in the bush is well over two hundred years old - and of course - tasting the finished product and purchasing some taffy and syrup to take home. My mind took a rest from the price of gas. My heart was filled with joy and gratitude that for those two hours - everyone enjoyed each other’s company.

Like - being there to celebrate my middle son’s birthday. Ben turned 43 this week and I was reminded of his birth so many years ago - the joy of raising him and his brothers - the pleasure of being his mom - watching him grow and mature to the man he is today. Ben and his bro’s - Zac and Pete - have given me so much joy through the years. Three sons - in under three years. The boys were always together. When there was no one else to play with - they always had each other. When we went camping - there was always to build sandcastles with - someone to play “steal” on the beach and volleyball in the water. Three boys on the same baseball team - the same high school senior basketball team. How cool was that. They played hard and yes - sometimes, even more times than I liked - fought hard with each other. They are brothers - they are my sons - they bring me joy.

I often reflect on my sons and their growing up years. I’m thankful for all four of their grandparents who loved them and guided them and poured their lives into them. They modelled how to love their spouses well…..how to be honest in school and their jobs…..how to be faithful in the small things……how to cheer on the Leafs and Blue Jays…..how to deal with disappointment….how to be men. My parents - Randy’s parents - they were fine people. I often remind myself of their faith through the hard times of the depression and second world war. They definitely found joy in the ordinary things.

Like - warm socks from the dryer - fresh fruit - a delicious sandwich - clean sheets - laughing until your belly aches - finishing a really good book - dogs who greet you at the door as if you’ve been gone for a year - watching people you love win - slow mornings - peaceful evenings - hearing your favourite song on the radio! These ordinary things bring me joy.

LIKE - Good Friday and Easter Sunday morning. The declaration - tetelestai - brings me total JOY. The events of that first Easter were not ordinary - but quite extraordinary.

“Tetelestai” - Greek word. This proclamation by Jesus on the cross - wasn’t a whisper of weakness or fading breath of defeat. It was not almost - not halfway - not still trying. It was a cry of victory - over every sin - every shame - every debt I could never repay. Every debt - paid in full. The cross didn’t say - try harder. It said - it is done. And in that moment - darkness thought it had won - the grave thought it would hold - and hell thought it had the final word. But darkness, the grave and hell - didn’t hear “tetelestai” - the sound of chains breaking, the sounds of doors opening and the sounds of Love going full. "Tetelestai” - He meant it. It is finished - and what He finished stays finished forever!

Tetelestai - that’s why in the middle of these tough days - I choose to find joy in the everyday.

TEN YEARS! HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO US!

I looked it up! The ten year anniversary is marked by tin or aluminum and it celebrates a decade of durable and flexible love. A decade down and a lifetime to go! Ten years is a powerful testament of our love, respect and commitment to each other. Tin and aluminium also symbolize strength and the art of being supple and cooperative - something we continue to do each day - for each other and with each other. We’re better together.

Our journey together began in the fall of 2015 - both widowed - two people - not young but not old - living in two different towns - waiting and praying for the next thing but not ever imagining it would be a marriage that would occur. Harv and I were introduced by friends - and agreed to meet for coffee. That coffee led to the exchange of phone numbers - texting many times each day - lunches and late night phone calls - more lunches - and love blossomed. In a very short time we knew! When you know - you know! And we both love the Leafs (this year has been tough in that area) - the Blue jays and the Raptors. A match made in heaven.

We were married on April 2, 2016 - surrounded by our children, grandchildren, siblings and friends. My son, Ben, officiated.

Through the years, we’ve had the opportunity to travel to Europe - the Caribbean - and across Canada.

When Covid hit in 2020 - we were devastated that my Mom was stuck in her retirement home in Cornwall all by herself. It was such a sad, difficult time for so many seniors and when I broached the subject of having Mom come to live with us - Harv immediately agreed. After some discussions with my siblings, Mom moved to our home in early November of 2020. After a few hard days of settling in - Mom came to love her time in our home. We set up her bedroom in the “front room” where she had a beautiful view of Lake Huron. Most of the time she thought she was living at the North Pole. Mom loved to share her five or six stories with Harv and I - over and over again - and we listened each time as if it were the first time hearing. Mom loved Harv. It seemed he was better at encouraging her to eat at the dining room table than I was. When she didn’t want to come to the table - we all ate in her room. She never ate a meal alone again after leaving the Retirement Home.

Christmas Eve. 2020

Mom passed away in our home on January 25th, 2021. It was our immense pleasure to care for Mom during the last three months of her life - keeping her safe and comfortable and well loved.

We spent a few winters in Florida - spending such happy days with my brother, Bob and his wife Lynn and my brother Ted, and his wife Irene. We often found ourselves at the Dunedin Ball park watching the Jays during Spring Training or eating at a sports bar - watching hockey.

The last couple of years we’ve spent part of our winters in Curacao - enjoying spending the time there with friends and family.

And of course we spend lots of time grandparenting - Moosonee (for a lot of years) - but now Kincardine - Kitchener - Ottawa and Peterborough. We’re on the the road a lot. We’re grateful for our 15 grandchildren and their parents.

It was Ruth Bell Graham - the wife of the evangelist Billy Graham - who said - “A good marriage is the union of two good forgivers.” Smart lady. It’s not always easy when two people - regardless of their ages - with two distinct and different personalities - marry and share life day in and day out. One partner will see things completely different than the other and have differing opinions on certain subjects. Sometimes - words are spoken that you wish you could take back. But at the end of the day - each must offer forgiveness - each must strive to be kind to each other - to have a tender heart for the other - to not allow bitterness to set in - be quick to listen - slow to speak - slow to get angry - and be the first to say “I’m sorry - will you forgive me.”

Here’s to the next ten! Better together.

MY BRO - TED!

Ted would have turned 75 this week! Three years ago - cancer took his body but not his soul.

Ted was born on March 28, 1951 - the 6th child of our parents - there would be three more children added to the family. Our older brothers and sisters could speak about Ted’s childhood years but - as the younger - I can only speak of Ted as my much loved older brother.

Ted was 7 when I was born (Harry - born in 1950 - Philip - born in 1953 and Tim born in 1955) - five of us born in the fifties - a magical time to grow up.

Ted was gifted in so many ways - an A student - an athlete - really - an all around nice guy. He was the first one in our family to attend university and after graduating from St. Lawrence high school - off he went to Waterloo. One spring break - I took the train from Cornwall all the way to Waterloo to visit him. That was an adventure. After his undergraduate degree was completed - he went on to Law School in Ottawa. Upon graduation - Ted went back to Cornwall and joined a law firm where he served our hometown community for 40 years - as a lawyer and as a faithful citizen. Ted married his high school sweetheart, Irene, in 1972.

Ted was generous - to so many - and to me personally. For all those years he handled wills and business transactions for everyone in our great big family and wouldn’t take a cent in return.

February 2010 - Randy and I were living in Westport. We were enjoying a sabbatical from the local church ministry - waiting for the next ministry opportunity to find us. We hosted the family day holiday that year in Westport and many of our eastern Ontario family came for an afternoon/evening of pond hockey, sliding, games, Olympic games, food and fun. At the end of this incredibly fun family day, Ted slipped me a note. Later in the evening, I opened it. He told me how very proud he was of me - having been put in difficult circumstances that year and remaining steadfast and joyful - included in the envelope was a cheque! “Go on a holiday!” Unexpected blessing. Ted was like that.

2014 - July! Ted was broken hearted for me when Randy died. We chose to bury Randy in Westport. Having pastored in three different communities - we didn’t really have a home - and so after some deliberation with my boys, we decided on Westport. This adorable village in eastern Ontario had been a rest stop for us from ministry - so it would be Randy’s final resting place. The graveside service was difficult but beautiful. It was a sunny, very warm July day - perfect really - cloudless blue sky and our friend, Steve Fleming led us gently and lovingly.

When we were back at the church for the lunch - unbeknownst to me - two things happened. My oldest son, Zac - overwhelmed with grief - stepped outside out of the crowded church hall. Ted saw Zac leave - followed him outside and wrapped his arms around my son and held him. Both of them crying - both of them overcome with grief. It was only weeks before Ted’s own death, that Zac told me how much Ted had done for him that day. An uncle comforting his young nephew. An uncle trying to help make sense of an unexpected death. An uncle being present in the moment of overwhelming grief.

The second thing that happened that day was something I wasn’t prepared for. While still in Westport, I received a text from the funeral home to stop by before I headed home to Everett - to pay the funeral bill. I was upset. The tears came quickly. I had just buried my husband. The memorial service hadn’t even happened yet - but once again - Ted stepped in. He went with me to the funeral home - took care of the bill - “don’t worry about it!” (I paid him later when my head was functioning!) Ted was like that. Always generous. Always doing the right thing at the right time. He noticed needs and met them.

January - 2023 - we were in Florida - Bob and Lynn, Ted and Irene - Harv and I. We golfed together. We ate meals together. We went to church together. We played cards and games. Ted and Irene even played a pickle ball game with us.

But….all through January - Ted wasn’t feeling great. Early February - after returning home - Ted called with the news that - after several tests - he had cancer. His voice was strong but raw. He was prepared for some hard days but he never had a chance. The cancer ate him from the inside out and he passed away on Monday, May 22, 2023.

His siblings had the opportunity to say our goodbyes on the Saturday and Sunday prior to his passing - my turn was on the Sunday afternoon - just hours before his faith in Jesus became sight. Ted was too weak to speak - but still tried to crack a smile. I sang to him - a couple of hymns we knew from our childhood - I told him I loved him - that he was always my beloved older brother - and soon, we all would be joining him in heaven. Ted passed away hours later, surrounded by his wife and daughters.

At the conclusion of Ted’s funeral service, the lawyers and judges from the Cornwall area dressed in their robes and colours and lined his final journey. I’d never seen anything like it before. It was a remarkable sight and showed such respect for my big brother.

Ted left a big hole in the lives of his wife, his daughters and their families, his siblings, his community, his friends and his church.

I miss you big bro! Eternally grateful for your impact on my life.

ST. PATRICK - AD 387 - 461 - IRELAND

Maewyn Succat (was given the name Patrick years later when he was ordained) was born in the late fourth century in Britain - into a religious family - a good family. He likely memorized the catechism as a young boy and knew the Scriptures well also. At some point during Patrick’s teenage years, Celtic pirates invaded his town and he was kidnapped, smuggled onto a pirate ship and carried off to Ireland. Patrick was eventually sold as a slave to a chieftain - was cut off from family and home - and was very much alone. I imagine he wasn’t much older than my teenaged grandchildren.

Patrick was given the responsibility of a shepherd for the chieftain and this position kept him isolated from humans. For weeks at a time, Patrick moved the sheep - sometimes in the freezing cold - the rain - sometimes sunshine but history tells us he was homesick and hungry most of the time. It was during these long, lonely days and nights that Patrick experienced a closeness with God he had never felt before. All the catechism he had studied and the Bible stories he had learned as a child returned to him. He began to pray night and day. He began to sense God’s Spirit in powerful ways. He took great notice of the Creator - probably because of the vast, green pastures - the bleating of the helpless sheep - and the ever-changing colours of the endless sky.

Patrick - “The Lord opened up my awareness of my lack of faith. Even though it came about late, I recognized my failings. So I turned with all my heart to the Lord my God and He looked down on my lowliness and had mercy on my youthful ignorance. He guarded me before I knew Him and before I came to wisdom and could distinguish between good and evil - He protected me and consoled me as a father does for his son.”

Miraculously six years after his capture, Patrick was awakened from a deep sleep in the middle of the night. He heard the voice of God say - “soon you will depart for your home country. Behold - your ship is ready.” Imagine? There was no waiting around for Patrick. Immediately, when morning came, Patrick fled - some 200 miles - in the direction of the sea. He arrived near an inlet - trekked up a hill and sure enough - a ship lay ready to leave. He made his way on board - and soon - he was going home.

I imagine it was quite a homecoming! Parents overwhelmed! Siblings excited! The town folk incredulous! The boy who had been dead to them (so to speak) was alive and well and home. Home!

But Patrick had been forever changed - Welsh by birth - schooled in classic Latin - but now - Celtic. It was hard to know where he belonged.

Sometime later - Patrick had another vision. In this particular vision he saw an Irishman holding up letters - entitled - The Voice of the Irish. When Patrick saw those words - he heard the cries of the multitudes - begging him to come back to Ireland and live among them. That vision recurred many times before Patrick finally responded - with a firm willingness to go. Before he returned to Ireland though - he spent several years in a French monastery learning spiritual practices and took theological training. Finally at the age of 48, Patrick was sent out as one of the first church planters to the Celtic peoples of Ireland.

History and legend indicate that Patrick’s patience, gentleness, kindness and courage invited conversations that led to a sweeping spiritual renewal of the Irish people. He moved from clan to clan throughout the county, sharing the saving gospel of Jesus Christ. It is said that Ireland is the only country in that era of history where conversion to Christianity happened without bloodshed. Patrick allowed Celtic culture to breathe and morph with its newfound faith. He was less interested in expanding the Roman Catholic church - but more interested in treating the Celts as children of God.

Consider Patrick’s prayer and may it bless you today.

“I arise today - through God’s strength to pilot me; God’s might to uphold me; God’s wisdom to guide me; God’s eye to look before me; God’s word to speak for me; God’s hand to guard me; God’s way to lie before me; God’s hosts to save me from the snares of the devil; From temptations of vices; From everyone who desires me ill; Afar and anear; Alone or in a multitude……Christ with me; Christ before me; Christ behind me; Christ in me; Christ beneath me; Christ above me; Christ on my right; Christ on my left; Christ when I lie down; Christ when I sit down; Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me; Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me; Christ in the eye that sees me; Christ in the ear that hears me.”

GOLIATH MUST FALL

You might have heard the story of David vs. Goliath. Goliath (of Gath) was 9 feet and 9 inches tall - his armour weighed 125 pounds and it is recorded that he taunted his enemies (the Israelites) everyday for 40 straight days. And then there’s David (of Israel)! David was the youngest of his family - a shepherd - and when his father requested that he bring food supplies to his 7 older brothers, he did just that. It was at the Israelite camp where David first heard Goliath’s taunting and was shocked that not one Israelite soldier responded to it. It was David - the shepherd boy - who went to King Saul with the mindset - “put me in coach”.

(My Pastor is preaching a series on this topic for the month of March. So far Pastor Adam has talked about the giant of fear and then this past week - the giant of rejection).

Rejection stings. It’s painful and it has a long memory. We’ve all been there. Spurned. Received the cold shoulder. Felt brushed off. Scorned. Snubbed. You get the picture. It hurts physically, emotionally, spiritually, romantically, and personally.

I’ve been there! You’ve been there.

A boyfriend broke up with me when I was 17 because I didn’t come from a rich family. Apparently we didn’t have the right connections. His mother did say I had nice straight teeth though. (What was I? A horse?)

I’ve been on the outside - looking in - when a group of women are talking about where they are meeting for lunch - and obviously - neglecting to mention the place or time to me - I was left out.

I felt the sting when one of my sons wasn’t accepted into the university of his choice - the marks were enough but not enough connections with higher ups!

Our pastor spoke of his own experience of being the last person picked at recess to be on the team - any team.

It’s what I dislike about the show Survivor. It’s all fun and games when you are hanging with your tribe - all for one and one for all - until it’s time to give someone the boot. Jeff says the fateful words - “the tribe has spoken” and before you know it - your torch is snuffed out!

I grew up in a home where I experienced acceptance and love and it shaped my life in response to the rejections that happened to me along my journey. I’m grateful and thankful for my parents. I’m forever blessed for the pastors and teachers I’ve had - men and women who have mentored me - poured into me - and shaped me to be the woman I am today.

Along my journey I’ve observed a few things about the giant of rejection - things Pastor Adam brought to the forefront………

#1. Rejected people reject people. Some people withdraw first so they won’t get hurt in the relationship. A very long time ago when Randy and I agreed to pastor a local church in small town Ontario, I set out to meet and greet the women who attended the church. Most of those coffee dates went 100% great - only one meeting didn’t go so well. The woman I was meeting up with told me in no uncertain terms that she didn’t want to spend time with me - become friends - walk with or share life - because one day I would move away. She told me that too many people had walked out of her life and one day I would do the same. I understand now. Then I didn’t. She wanted to prevent emotional pain in her own life by rejecting a possible friendship. It could have been from fear or low self esteem - I’ll never know. We never became friends only acquaintances.

#2. We don’t live for acceptance - we live from acceptance. . That truth is exemplified best in Matthew 3:16,17 - “and when Jesus was baptized, immediately he went up from the water, and behold, the heavens were opened to him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming to rest on him; and behold, a voice from heaven said, ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.’" Jesus hadn’t performed any miracles yet. He hadn’t healed the sick. He hadn’t given sight to the blind. He hadn’t turned water into wine. He hadn’t made the lame walk again. He hadn’t stopped the issue of blood for the woman who had suffered for 12 years. He hadn’t raised Lazarus from the dead. He hadn’t gone to the cross. Before Jesus did any of those things, His heavenly Father spoke acceptance over Him.

My older siblings constantly remind me that I was cherished and loved - the 9th child to our parents - the little sister after four brothers. I was petted and carried around like a doll by all of them. Even before I had done anything to contribute to our family life - I was accepted.

Psalm 139 says we are formed intentionally - fearfully and wonderfully made - knitted together in our mother’s womb - our frames not hidden from God when we were being made in secret - woven together - all under the seeing eye of our heavenly Father. Rejection loses its power when we remember Who created us.

I am encouraged with the practical ways our pastor shared with us to handle rejection.

#1. Name the giant. You can’t defeat what you can’t define. Name the things that keep surfacing in life. Write them down. Acknowledge them. Then get help to do something about them. Phone a friend. Talk to a therapist. Ask your pastor. Pray.

#2. Replace the narrative. Change the voice in your head that has for too long focused on rejection and replace it. Record all the times you have been accepted and by whom. Replace lies with truth. Even when we fail and slip - God is always faithful to us.

#3. Step forward in obedience. Remember the shepherd boy, David. All he had were 5 smooth stones and a slingshot to defeat Goliath and of course, his belief that God was bigger than the giant. “Put me in coach!”

#4. Remember whose battle it is. Courage isn’t the absence of fear - it’s the presence of trust.

I’m encouraged! I hope you are too. We mustn’t look around for someone else to fight the giants that are placed in front of us. We might not have chosen them but they are our opportunities to grow stronger. Put me in coach!

COSTA RICA MISSIONS TRIP

When I was 17 - I made a promise at a youth conference - anything - anywhere - anytime! At that time I imagined my anything would be becoming a nurse and marrying a pilot - my anywhere would be some faraway land where we would fly people from their small villages to city hospitals - my anytime would be as a young adult in my 20’s and 30’s! Instead - I married a pastoral student - at that time - both of us were attending seminary - and shortly after graduation, settled into small town Ontario. We pastored four local churches over the course of thirty five years.

We had a few opportunities for cross - cultural ministry experience. After graduation in 1980 a group of young adults from Tyndale were heading to Great Britain for an indefinite time - to live - to mingle - to embrace the culture. Randy and I talked about going with the group but decided against it when the Orillia Baptist church reached out to us to join their staff.

Several years later the Baptist denomination of Ontario and Quebec contacted us and began a discussion about joining a team heading to Indonesia. By now our boys were in their upper years of elementary school and it seemed the timing was not right. Once again - cross cultural ministry seemed to elude us.

A third opportunity opened up when the boys were in high school - in New Zealand. I started packing! Randy unpacked just as quickly.

Fast forward to now!

In the fall of 2025 - my church - the Harbour - announced that a group would be going to Costa Rica on a missions trip. That Sunday afternoon - I sat in the den with Harv - chatting about the trip and my desire to apply to go with the team. I’ve waited 51 years to go cross cultural and I so wanted to be a part of this group. I filled in the application that very day! The last question on the form read something like this - Is there anything that would keep you from going on this trip? I quickly answered “my age” and then just a quickly erased that answer. My age would not hold me back.

There are twelve of us going on the trip. Let’s just say - my age brings up the average of the group!!!!

We leave Friday, April 24 - from Toronto - and arrive in San Jose late in the evening. Our night will be short as we leave at 5 am the next morning. Drive! Breakfast! Drive! Lunch! Drive! About mid - afternoon - we’ll hop on a river boat - then hike - and finally arrive in the jungle community of Amburi! Amubri - (often spelled Amburi) is a village in the Talamanca region of Limón Province, Costa Rica.

We’ll spend the week doing construction work in the morning and kid’s ministry (games and crafts and building community relationships) in the afternoon. We will be sleeping in tents!

Out of my comfort zone? Yup! Was I asking for comfort? Nope.

What am I looking to experience in Costa Rica? I want to encourage the local pastor and his wife and family - learn the names of their children and bless them. I want to gain a new perspective by immersing myself in a different culture - meeting the local people - seeing how they live - what they eat - how they do life. I want to make a difference in someone’s life. I want to grow closer to the team from my church.

Never say never. Fifty - one years after the desire first took root in my heart - it’s happening.

FORTY - FIVE YEARS MARRIED

My parents were married for almost 69 years - they married young (22 and 18) - they had children (lots of them) - they raised them and sent them off to live their lives, marry and produce grandchildren (which were many) - they grew older and lived awesome lives into their senior years - and when my dad got sick in his late 80’s, it was my mom who lovingly cared for him until he died at the age of 91. My mom would live 14 more years after my dad - her beloved spouse passed away.

I imagined that’s how every marriage turned out. I imagined that was how mine would go as well. Randy and I also married young (23 and 21) - we too had children (not as many as my parents) - we raised them and sent them off to live their lives, marry and produce grandchildren for us. But what didn’t happen for us was that we would have the opportunity to grow older together and live awesome lives in our senior years. That image of a perfect long marriage was shattered when Randy collapsed while out running and passed away one week later. I had become a widow at the age of 56.

It’s not what I wanted. It’s not what I had imagined.

In those early days of widowhood - I wondered about things. I wondered who would care for me when I was an old woman. I wondered who would hold my head and wipe my face when I was sick to my stomach. I wondered who I would travel with. I wondered where I would live or if I would move. I wondered what it would be like to grow old alone without my spouse. I wondered if my friends would include me in their dinner parties. I wondered if my kids would worry about me all alone in my house. I wondered if I should get another dog. I wondered about things.

There were things - though - I didn’t wonder about. My grief was raw but my faith was strong. There were truths that I knew without a shadow of a doubt.

I knew……..

#1. Nothing is unknown to God. I was born for a specific purpose and that purpose had not changed. All my life events were still in place. God never abandoned me.

#2. God was near to me. Even though I was walking through the valley of the shadow of death, I would fear no evil, for God was with me - His rod and staff comforted me.

#3. The Lord was working out His plans for my life. I knew He was fulfilling HIs purpose for me. I knew I had a purpose as a mom and grandma. I knew I taught piano lessons. I knew I was a mentor to young women in my church and neighbourhood. God was working and I would wait to see the next thing He had for me to do.

#4. An eternal perspective put Randy’s death in perspective. I didn’t see the whole picture - the whole time line. I only saw a glimpse. We are on this earth for such a short time really - a blip - because we are created for eternal life. The time of grieving is temporary.

#5. In God’s hands the difficult things of life eventually become good. I knew that God was able and willing to redeem Randy’s death and make good for me. He promised me and I held on to that promise. I didn’t see how. I didn’t see why. I didn’t see when. I didn’t see what. But God did and that’s all I needed.

In just a few short weeks - Harv and I will celebrate ten years of marriage. The years have flown by. If you asked us both - we’d say - at that time - we weren’t looking for a second spouse but when we were introduced by friends in late 2015, romance blossomed quickly and we married on April 2, 2016. Our wedding verse was from Psalm 30:5 - “weeping may last for the night but joy comes in the morning”. After both being widowed in our mid 50’s, after much grief and tears, we were both given a second chance at marriage.

Between my two spouses I’ll celebrate 45 years of marriage this April. I’ve been blessed. I enjoy being married. I love the together time. I’ve made plenty of mistakes but I’ve learned from them. I’ve said things I wish I could take back. I have needed to ask for forgiveness more times than I wish - because of the unkind things I’ve said. (To both spouses)! Sometimes I’ve acted - more like a two year old - than a grown woman. But I’ve grown through the years - stronger and wiser - more mature - marriage does that for you and to you. You know when to pick your battles and quite frankly - some things just don’t matter. It’s more about being loving and kind than getting your own way.

Second marriages are very different from first marriages. When you marry after your spouse passes away and you are older - you don’t have the same pressures and worries of raising children. Those days are behind you. Marrying later in life means you don’t have student loans to pay back. Both Harv and I didn’t have mortgages when we married so we didn’t have mortgage payments to face each month. We agreed together on what church to attend. We both loved to travel and spend some time in the winter in warmer climates and we continue to enjoy those gifts together.

But (and there are always buts) - a second marriage comes with the reminders that there was a first. Both of us had a life of more than fifty years that didn’t include each other - that didn’t include first families (siblings and parents) - children - grandchildren - experiences - joys and hardships - family vacations - trips - friends - jobs - hobbies - memories and the like! Speaking of friends (and family) - we’ve had some who have cut us out of their lives because we remarried. That hurts. But - we also have friends and family who have blessed us with their love and kindness because we remarried. (Until his passing in September, Harv’s father-in-law called me on my birthday each year and always expressed his joy for Harv and I.) It takes time to navigate through these things and that’s okay. We’ve been navigating for almost ten years. The key is to adapt and adjust and except and enjoy and embrace - in any relationship.

I read this quote recently - “One falls in love and then learns for the duration that one is at the mercy of someone else’s childhood. We don’t marry people and ‘their families’. We marry people and their childhood.”

I’m so grateful for the blessing of marriage. I’m grateful that as a young, twenty-one year old - I made vows to Randy - that we would be husband and wife - together for life. We were committed to those vows until Randy died. I’m grateful for the years that our marriage grew stronger - through the ups and downs - the joys and sorrows - the highs and the lows - 35 years strong!

I’m also grateful that I was given the opportunity to meet Harv and fall in love for the second time in my life and marry again. I’m grateful for the ten years that we’ve spent growing our relationship through the ups and downs - the joys and the sorrows - the highs and the lows - 10 years strong! May it continue for many years to come.

When we get married, we say vows. We vow to love each other through sickness and health - for richer or for poorer - for better or for worse - through thick and thin - ‘til death parts us. It’s a vow. Somedays it’s not easy. Somedays it’s messy. Somedays it’s spicy. But most days - it’s very, very good.

When the first wedding occurred - Adam and Eve - God said “it was very good.” God said “it’s not good for a man to be alone and that He would make a helper suitable”. What grace.

GIVE ME THIS MOUNTAIN - CHRISTOFFEL (PART TWO)

It was the summer of ‘69 - I was 11 years old and it was then that I met my brother-in-law - Ken Bartlett. My sister, Brenda, had moved to Kingston and shortly after moving there - met Ken. They enjoyed a whirlwind romance - got engaged and a wedding was planned for the next summer. I was a bridesmaid for Ken and Brenda and if I remember correctly, our dresses were blue.

Those first few summers that Ken and Bren were married were magical for me too. I spent many a Saturday and Sunday afternoons on their boat (that Ken built) - touring the St. Lawrence River and Lake Ontario. Ken built that boat himself. He did things like that. Built their family business. Built their houses. Built decks. For himself and for others. Clever! Handy! Smart! Figured things out (before google existed!)

From the get go - I’ve loved and admired my b-i-l. For over 50 years I have recognized that he is a good man. He is funny. He doesn’t take things too seriously. He makes people laugh. He makes everyone around him feel good about themselves. He’s loved his wife faithfully for 56 years. He’s a dad to three great kids and eight grandchildren. He loves his siblings well. He continues to go visit his brother’s widow years and years after his brother passed away. Ken is one of the good guys in this world.

Early in 1971 - Ken and Brenda bought a lot at Devil Lake - and the summer vacations and weekends continued. They warmly welcomed all of us to “the lake” and it’s where I spent so many idyllic - sunny days - through the 70’s.

Devil Lake is about 15 minutes from the village of Westport, just up the hill from Bedford Mills. Ken built a small cabin for their family to sleep in - while he was building the big cottage. On the walls of that small cabin were recordings of - fish caught - euchre scores - heights of the kids - drawings of the new cottage - messages and notes! If that cabin could talk - it would regale stories of laughter and some tears - secrets shared - and maybe even the night coke was thrown across the table!!!

In the late 70’s my parents bought the cottage next to Ken and Bren’s. That purchase meant my own family (Randy, Zac, Ben, Pete and I) would spend the next twenty summers vacationing at Devil Lake. Randy and I would spend 6 magical weeks at Devil Lake after graduating from seminary in 1980. No plumbing. No heat. No running water.

We snuggled in that bare bones cottage for those weeks and it was some of the finest weeks I’ve ever spent. We woke when the sun came up and went to bed went it got dark. Don’t judge us but we jumped into the freezing cold May waters of Devil lake to bathe. At that time of the year there was not a soul around. We canoed that lake every morning. Hours and hours. We watched the loons building their nest. We heard their haunting cries in the night if a predator happened to come near. We tried to get close to the turtles sunning on a log. One day we counted twenty or more of them warming themselves in the sunshine. In the afternoons we sat in the warm spring sunshine on the deck but if the rains came, we hunkered down in the cottage - under warm quilts. We drank cowboy coffee. We bbq’d. We got our water from the pump at the bottom of the hill near the little white Anglican church. We made quick trips to the outhouse. During black fly week, we hardly went outside.

All of a sudden it was June. The loon parents had two eggs in their nest. One of them was constantly on that nest while the other fished and offered warning calls. The whip-poor-wills came back and the whipped each evening. One night we counted 111 calls. Please stop. We built fires and sat for hours under the stars - looking up to the heavens and talking about what it will be like to be there one day. Randy played his guitar and sang John Denver songs to me - night after night. We didn’t have a transistor radio so we had no clue who was winning the Stanley Cup playoffs. Maybe once a week we went into town for groceries and got some news. There were no cell phones in those days so a few times my parents drove out from Kingston to check on us to be sure we were “still alive”!

All too soon those magical 6 weeks came to an end and off we were to the big world of full time jobs - leaving behind our college days. It was because of Ken and Brenda and their generosity to us years earlier that led to that magical time in my life.

Fast forward to now. My brother-in-law, Ken, is 85 years old and last week - he climbed Mount Christoffel - right here in Curacao. Ken is fit. He is determined. Did I mention funny? He is a spiritual man. He is wise. When I told him that I had climbed Christoffel last year (with my friend Julie Brown) - he said “let’s do it - I’m in!”

We got up early last Friday morning - at 5 am - in order to be at the site and at the base of the mountain at 6:30. We chatted during the 45 minute drive to the mountain about life, marriage, family, kids, spouses, wills…..and shared more than one laugh. After all these years - Ken continues to “crack me up.” We paid our $15. - “signed our life away” and drove to the base.

It was a glorious morning.

Ken set the pace. I climbed when he climbed. I stopped to rest when he stopped to rest. We drank water. We clamoured over boulders. We moved to the side of the path to allow faster climbers to go by. I started telling people we met that Ken was 85 and each one answered with only one word! RESPECT

Mount Christoffel is approximately 1200 feet high. We reach about 1150 and came to the very steepest part of the climb. All rock. Not much to hang onto. I scouted things out and came back down to the area where Ken was resting and said “we’ve reached our summit!” We so enjoyed the view before we started our trek down.

The way down was tough for Ken. Different muscles. Legs tiring. We took our time to eliminate the possibility of falling. We took frequent rests. Probably not easy for an older man to take the hand of his younger sister-in-law and lean on her but take my hand he did. We called ourselves the “dream team”. And as always - Ken was upbeat.

We made it to the bottom in one piece. Hot. Fatigued. But still smiling. We shared a morning that I will remember the rest of my life. My 85 year old b-i-l is remarkable. He is my hero. I had the chance to tell him what he has meant to me - ever since I was 11 years old. I will remember his incredible strength and drive to conquer this mountain.

Way to go - Ken.

“Give me this mountain!” is a request that Caleb of the Old Testament made in Joshua 14:12 - where at the age of 85, asks God for the area inhabited by the scary Anakim. Caleb’s request shows his faith, strength and recognition of God’s promises regardless of the challenges ahead. Just like you - Ken!

FOUR MEN IN THE FIRE

There is a story in the Bible - in the book of Daniel - about three young friends. Their names were Shadrach, Meschach and Abednego. These young men were captives in a foreign land because the wicked king Nebuchadnezzar had besieged Jerusalem when they were young boys. They were taken as prisoners to Babylon where they would be taught the ways of the Chaldeans.

King Neb made a rule! Whenever he played music - everyone was required to bow down to worship the golden statue he had made of himself - sixty cubits high - almost 30 metres! Shad - Mesh - and Abe - had been taught in the ways of the Lord - faithful Israelites - (I would love to know their parents) - and they refused to bow. What is the first of the ten commandments? “You shall have no other gods before me.” The king said bow and they said “we won’t bow!”

When King Neb heard they weren’t obeying - he gave them one more chance. He gave them an ultimatum - “bow or I’m going to through you alive into a fiery furnace.” The music started - and they didn’t bow. The boys told the king that the God whom they served would be able to deliver them - but even if He didn’t - they still would never bow to him. Neb was really mad. (Sound familiar - someone doesn’t get their own way and they go ballistic!) He was furious! King Neb ordered the furnace to be 7 times hotter than it was usually heated. Shad - Mesh and Abe - were bound in their cloaks, their tunics, their hats and their other garments - and were thrown in. The soldiers who threw them in were burnt to a crisp.

It seems the the King had a bird’s eye view of all the happenings. Apparently he jumped to his feet - exclaiming - “we cast three men in but I see four!”

I’ve been there! Not literally! Not in a furnace that is seven times hotter. But it’s felt that way. The heat! The oppression! The pain! I also know so many - family and friends - who’ve been thrown into their own fires. Fires of depression - divorce - death - separation - misunderstandings - job loss - family squabbles - accidents - cancer - physical and emotional pain - drug and alcohol addictions - so many hard things.

Take my new friend - CH - who I met for fifteen minutes last Friday night at the beach get- together here in Curaçao. We happened to be in the washroom at the same time and I commented on the pretty colour of her bathing suit. I was startled to see a tear roll down her cheek. She said she didn’t remember the last time she had received a compliment let alone a hug. C was from New York City - had lived on the streets for a time - had boiling water thrown at her chest (I saw the scars) - had had several relationships that never led to a commitment - and was in Curacao at the gift of a friend. We discovered we were almost the same age. I encouraged her with the only words that came to mind……..God had preserved her all these years for a specific purpose - that He cared for her - that He loved her. In all the trials and fires she walked through - the 4th Man was with her. We promised each other that we’d keep in touch. Maybe we will. Maybe we won’t - but I’ll always treasure the brief time we shared together. I will always remember her story. CH - the 4th Man promises to be with you always.

I have an elderly acquaintance - a widow for several years - independent - has an active social life - but faces the ordinary and natural issues that elders experience. I think about her several times throughout each day and of course - pray for her often. She loves God and has been in a relationship with Him all her life. She told me recently in a conversation that this winter has been somewhat difficult with so many dull days - not much sunshine.

A few weeks ago she had a Fourth Man in the Fire experience. It was a very snowy day - dark clouds looming overhead - and she told me she was standing in front of a window in her house - thinking about her life. Out of nowhere - the snow stopped briefly - the clouds parted for just a few minutes - and the sun shone right on her face. It illuminated her being and the whole room. She was filled with a warmth she’s never felt before. She told me she cried out in gratefulness and thanksgiving - knowing she was experiencing a very special God moment. The 4th Man showed up for her that day.

“Blessed assurance - Jesus is mine - He’s been my fourth man in the fire - time after time.”

Those three guys - Shadrach - Meshach and Abednego - it says - “the hair of their heads was not singed, their cloaks were not harmed and no smell of fire had come upon them”. Old King Neb changed his tune! He recognized the miracle too.

Like the three men in the fiery furnace I can testify the words from my future “funeral” song - Indy reminds me of this every time we hear it!

“All my life You have been faithful - all my life You have been so so good. With every breath that I am able - I will sing of the goodness of God. I love Your voice - You have led me through the fire - In darkest night - You are close like no other. I know You as a Father - I know You as a friend - I have lived in the goodness of God.”

SUNSHINE AND WARM WEATHER

When I married Harvey Lootsma - almost ten years ago - and moved to Kincardine - he warned me that I was moving to “Grey”/Bruce County - emphasis on the grey. I thought (at the time) - it can’t be that bad! It is. Once the lovely autumn weather is over - the clouds gather over Lake Huron and they don’t leave. You can count on one hand the number of sunny days we have through most of November, December and January.

Yes - we keep busy! Yes - we have a jigsaw puzzle on the table. Yes - I continue to workout and play pickle ball as much as possible. Yes - we go to our church. Yes - we have dinner with family and friends - meet for coffee - and walks - but man - do I miss the sunshine.

So…..this morning……Harv and I are jetting off to Curacao for a few weeks of sunshine and surf and heat.

I remember the very first time our family went away for a week in the winter time. Our sons were in Grade 9, 8 and 7 and a friend offered us the use of her dad’s condo. We couldn’t believe it. We had never been able to go south in the wintertime and now it was happening. We made our plans - set our departure date - started to pack……and then……the unthinkable……my friend called to say that the condo had been sold and was no longer available for us to use.

I felt sick. What would we tell the boys. They were already in bed. I cried and then I did what I always did when I wasn’t sure what to do - I called my Mom. She could fix everything. Mom shared my disappointment - then said - “give me some time - let’s sleep on it - I’ll call you in the morning.” Sure enough. Mom called the next morning to say a friend in a senior’s trailer park said we could use their trailer for a week. Same week. Just a different location. Needless to say - Randy and I were thrilled we didn’t have to cancel our trip. We were thankful we didn’t have to tell the boys we weren’t going.

We left on a Thursday afternoon and planned to drive through the night - make it to St. Pete’s, Florida in 24 hours or so. Zac - was in the back of the van with a snorkel out the window for “air” - Ben and Pete were in the middle seats in the “captain chairs” - me riding “shotgun” and Randy was driving the first shift. Everyone was super excited. We crossed the border at Detroit (got a little turned around and ended up in an “unsavoury” area but finally found the right way and headed south. Through Michigan. Then Ohio. Then Kentucky. I got the “graveyard” shift for driving - around midnight! The boys were sound asleep. Randy was ready for a nap. I was wide awake. After changing positions - Randy fell fast asleep and I was the only one awake in the van. I drove through the Carolinas - and into Georgia - listening to music - praying for my family - 4 guys all snoring! Finally around 4:30 am - I pulled off I-75 and into an IHOP parking lot - shut the van off - and fell asleep myself.

We all woke up around 7:00 and I’ll never forget the warmth of that morning sun - the green grass - the flowers blooming - and that warm, warm air. It was winter back home but it was summer in the south.

I’ve been on several winter vacations since that very first one and I’m never grown tired of that moment - when you step off the plane - and the wave of hot, humid, delicious air hits you squarely in the face. I don’t take it for granted.

One of the wisest men who ever lived was King Solomon and he wrote this - “Sunshine is sweet, it is good to see the light of day.” This verse reminds me how much a person wants - desires - needs - appreciates - the warmth and light of the sun. It also reminds me of how we all need to be “sunshine” to the people we come in contact with each day.

How does one be the sunshine in another’s life?

Offer it freely. Don’t be stingy in our words to others. Don’t withhold encouragement and gratitude. Do fill the cups of others willingly and lovingly.

Offer compassion. It’s like balm on a burn or cut when we show empathy rather than criticism to our loved ones and friends. Don’t tell them “what it was like in your day” or “you should have done it this way”. Encourage and bless them.

Be generous. Generosity always wins. Withholding “sunshine” hurts both the giver and the receiver.

Encourage perseverance. The sun comes up every morning and goes down at the end of the day - even if the clouds are covering it. On those cloudy days - especially on the cloudy days - in a spiritual sense - it’s important to be the cheering section.

Dispel negativity. This is the worst. It’s one of the most devastating words I know. A negative spirit really kills. Be and do the opposite - promote positivity.

C. S. Lewis wrote in his book - The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe - “Always winter and never Christmas.” Lewis wanted his readers to understand that under the rule of the White Witch - the people of Narnia were trapped in a world without God (Aslan) - joy - light - and redemption. Christmas changes that notion.

And yes! In the next few weeks - I’ll bask in the literal sunshine of the warm Caribbean sun and I know I’ll meet some new friends where I will be able to spread a little sunshine. I’ll bring some home with me!