THE GYM

For as long as I can remember I’ve spent time in a gym - always adding strength training workouts to whatever sport I was playing at the time. In fact - when I was in my 50’s - I certified with CanFitPro to teach fitness and personal training. I’ve been a coach and I’ve been a student. Both are fantastic.

I follow a podcast by Dr. Peter Attia who speaks about growing older with strength and vitality. He speaks about “lifespan” - how long you may live - and heathspan” - how well you live! “Both of these are of equal importance and an extreme of one without the other is not ideal.”

A few years ago - almost 6 years ago - I joined No Drama Fitness - in Kincardine. I started with a fantastic personal trainer - who put me through the paces! I learned the concepts of a cross fit gym - the workouts - the level methods - and after a number of months made the brave move to join a class. I now regularly attend the 9 am class and absolutely enjoy all the men and women in our class. Our two coaches are amazing and encouraging - challenging us to lift heavier - move quicker - achieve our goals and ring the bell when we do!

I’m a person who is motivated by setting goals. I always have been. I write all kinds of things down and desire to achieve a positive result. Our gym - uses something called Level Method. It’s not about extreme but about balance.

What do we do? Front squats - Upper Body Pull - Deadlifts - Upper Body Push - Upper/Lower Endurance - Weightlifting - Rings - Squat Endurance - Neuro and Core Endurance - Kettlebell - Flexibility - Running - Rowing and Aerobic Power Intervals. I’ve learned over the last several years to do all of these things.

Cross Fit gyms use a colour system as a guide to progress from beginner to more advanced. This allowed me to jump right in as a beginner and do what I could do at the time - now pushing myself to be better - safely - with good form and intensity.

Who knew I could climb a rope and touch the ceiling of our gym.

There are so many benefits of belonging to a gym. Could I do most of these workouts in my basement? Yes! Would I? Not likely. Probably not! I don’t love working out by myself.

How the gym has benefited me personally!

#1. Boosts confidence. I never knew that I could hurl a 14 pound medicine ball - from a squat position - to a line 7 feet from the floor (wall balls) - then clean 25 kilos - push press those same 25 kilos above my head - jump to a 20 inch box - and finish with burpees! This is called an API. You have one minute to accumulate as many repetitions as you can in each category before moving on to the next exercise. After completing each of the five movements - you rest for one minute! After 3 rounds - hopefully - you have 150 repetitions. It took me three attempts before achieving a positive result this past winter. I felt like an Olympic champion. I felt like I could do anything.

#2. Longevity for bone and muscle density. The older we grow, bone loss occurs. It’s a fact of aging. Weight lifting and resistance based exercises will help to protect those bones. Osteoporosis runs in my family and I’m trying my best to help myself out - to strengthen those bones.

#3. My gym buddies are my people. I really like the people I work out with. They are encouraging. They are fun. They laugh. They don’t take themselves too seriously. They miss me when I’m not there. I miss them when they aren’t there. They know about my kids and grandkids and I know about theirs. We celebrate each other’s goals and accomplishments. Everyone works at their own pace. It’s a great feeling to belong.

#4. Sometimes - meaningful conversations happen before or after - just a snippet of something really important - a parent’s passing - a friend who is sick - a grandchild who is struggling - words of encouragement are given - real life happens then.

#5. Lastly - working out reduces stress. At times - stuff - whirls around in my head and it’s possible to let that stuff stay there - however - at the gym - for at least an hour - all of that flies out the window and my head is relieved of carrying those thoughts. The Mayo clinic agrees with me! “Physical activity pumps up the production of endorphins, the brain’s feel-good neurotransmitters. This increases the feelings of happiness and reduces feelings of pain. It’s often called a runner’s high. Any aerobic activity, such as a gym workout, pickleball (they said it - not me), a hike - will create this happy feeling. Research has found that working out also increases other brain chemicals that help lessen pain.”

Right now I’m working on doing a strict chin up because this summer when I’m at the park with my grandchildren - I want to jump up on those bars or rings and pull my 67 year old chin right up past the bar. I want to be strong.

One thing I’m sure of though - even more than being part of a gym - even more than attending workouts regularly - even more than being active and strengthening my body - is that my days and years are held in the hand of my God - Whom I love and follow. Psalm 139:13 - 16 “For You formed my inward parts; You knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are Your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from You, when I was was made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in Your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed, for me, when as yet there was none of them.”

Of course, I have no idea if I will live to be 70 or 80 or 90 or 100 (like my mom) - I think it would be cool to live to be 100 - regardless - it doesn’t matter! I live each to the full. I live my life - not the life of my sisters or my friends. I live the life I was called to live - to impact my own world in my unique way. I live knowing that my life is found in Christ and Christ alone. My value is found in Christ - not what people think of me or don’t think of me - not what is happening or not happening in the world. I live adventurously - expectantly. This life is not a timid - grave-tending life - it’s adventurously expectant! It’s exciting. I live to be a blessing to my husband, my children and my grandchildren. Yup - they come first. They are in my heart and thoughts each and every day.

By the way! My password on my gym app is “GoGet’Em2025!”

LIFE WITH TEENAGERS

2011 was an exciting year in the Jolliffe family. We knew that grandchild #1 was expected in February of 2011 and grandchild #2 was due in early June of 2011. Christmas of 2010 we found out that grandchild #3 was due in July, 2011. Our cup was overflowing. The first three. Triplet cousins. As it turns out - Sara was born in February and Randy and I flew down the highway to London to meet her. Adorable. Instant love. Levi was born on his due date - June 4th and as quickly as possible we drove north up Highway 11 to Cochrane and took the 5 hour train ride to Moosonee to meet him. Adorable. Instant love. We stayed a week in the north and drove home - only to receive a call from Zac that Tracy was in labour. Early the next day we learned that Talia had arrived - thirteen days after Levi - and we drove over to Kitchener to meet her. Adorable. Instant love.

The big three had arrived.

These first three (of ten grandchildren) turn 14 this year.

Our fourth grandchild - Caleb - becomes a teenager in October . We were in Moosonee waiting for Caleb’s arrival - he was a wee bit late - but the night he arrived - he arrived in a hurry. Adorable. Instant love.

These four are the oldest of my grandchildren and life in their homes is fast and furious.

Charles Dickens - “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.” This phrase is from the famous opening paragraph of A Tale of Two Cities.

It could very well describe teenage years in most homes!

I lived my best life when I was a teenager. I played piano and sang in the both my school and church choirs. I played all sorts of sports - badminton, basketball, volleyball, tennis and running. I went to a great youth group at my church. I met my first husband - Randy - at a youth convention - and I knew he would be the man I would marry someday.

Through all these momentous events in my life, my parents were my number one fans. They supported me. They offered grace more times than I deserved.

I remember only one incident that was not an epic experience for me. I made a bad decision. I was in grade 9 and my friend and I hatched a plan to attend an event that I knew I would not receive permission for from my parents. I told my parents I was going to my friend’s house for the evening but didn’t stay there. We went somewhere else. When I got home around 9:30 - right away - I knew they knew. Parents are so smart. They have that second sense and I was their ninth child. What was I thinking that I could get away with something like that.

It happened this way! When my brother - Tim - got home at 9:00 from his part time job, Mom asked him to walk over to my friend’s house so I wouldn’t have to walk home alone. Of course, I wasn’t there and he came home alone. Mom and Dad were sitting on the couch when I walked into the room, they just looked at me! I could tell they were so disappointed in me and my character that night. We talked about it! We talked about living the truth. They didn’t “ground” me - they didn’t “discipline” me - they knew I had learned a valuable lesson that night. I never lied to them again.

The teenage years of our boys were filled with high school sports - youth group activities - part time jobs - girls and working at summer camp - IAWAH! Our house was often filled with kids. We had a backyard pool and from May until September - the pool was always being used by the boys and their friends and there were shrieks of laughter and joy and fun. One day I came home from shopping and Pete had brought the whole rugby team over after a game to cool off. Twenty or so - teenaged boys - and their coaches in the pool. I think it took Randy weeks to get the PH balanced again!

We didn’t have too many rules around and we did something we thought was wise. We had regular family meetings - attendance was mandatory - each of us had the opportunity to voice their opinions and then guidelines were set for a period of time for our household. The guidelines held until they were reviewed - some stayed and some changed.

Pretty basic stuff! Randy and I had to know who the boys were with and where they were. (This was long before cell phones so a phone call from a friend’s home was required). Do to others as you would have them do to you was practiced in our home. Work hard at school - at your part-time job - and around the house. Things like that.

Raising teenagers today is very different than thirty years ago but a few things remain the same!

#1. Communication - listen to what the teens are saying - talk about their day at school - validate their emotions (even if they seem irrational) - respect them and offer grace.

#2. Set Clear Boundaries - consistency is the key - be flexible - have clear expectations and guidelines.

#3. Encourage Responsibility - assign chores around the house - help them make good goals, both personal and academic - teach them how to manage their time.

#4. Be Involved - attend their games and performances - ask about their homework.

#5. Attend Church Together - help them grow spiritually - take them to youth activities.

#6. Focus on their Self Care - make sure they shower regularly - use deodorant - wear clean clothes - enjoy hobbies and relaxation.

There will be glitches along the way. Just as Dickens said - somedays our teens will be model children and their parents will enjoy “the best of times” - other days, these same teens will be ruled by their changing emotions and their parents will wonder who their child has become and it will be “the worst of times.” One day wise - one day foolish! Mood bright one day - the next dark.

I love to be with my teenaged grandchildren and to be in there homes and have them in ours. I love when they walk in and grab some cookies and muffins and fruit and Bubbly water. I love that their bathing suits are here so they can jump in the lake and hot tub. I love to hear the ball being bounced back and forth on the ping pong table. I love to hear about their serves in volleyball - their attempt at the “Michigan” - their jazz choir competitions - their friends - their “crushes”. It’s my joy as their Grammie to love them - encourage them - bless them and pray for them. It’s my joy as their Grammie to bless their parents and encourage them as they raise these really great kids to become stable adults in an unstable world.

The teen years are for holding on. The teen years are for letting go. Holding on to the days they want to spend with family. Letting go when they’d rather be with their friends. Holding on for dear life with them behind the wheel. Letting go of control and trusting they’ve got this. Holding on to hope they’ll make good decisions. Letting go of believing we can make them all for them. Holding on so tight with each and every hug. Letting go and hoping they’ll always come back. Holding onto moments that are left with them under the care of home. Letting go of thinking we can keep you here forever. Holding on to all the memories of those sweet babies. Letting go as they become young adults. Holding on. Letting go.

(Thank you to Raise Her Wild with Mehr Lee for sharing)

Sara, Levi, Tali and Caleb - you are my fab four teenagers. There are six more coming behind you - love you and cheering you on!

EASTER

For as long as I remember - Easter - more so than even Christmas has been observed and celebrated in my family. Easter celebrates the resurrection of Jesus Christ, the central belief in Christianity. Following the crucifixion and burial of Jesus, His body was placed in a tomb but three days later, when the women went to the tomb early in the morning, it was empty. Jesus was alive and He appeared to His followers that day, showing His victory over death. This event is known as the resurrection and is the basis for Easter celebrations and the hope Christians have for eternal life.

When I was a child growing up in Cornwall, it was the practice of the evangelical churches to gather together for the Good Friday service. My pastor’s name was Mr. Timpany and even as a young child of 4 or 5, I remember waving to him - from my seat in the congregation - and him giving a wave back to me. It always felt so special to see my pastor sitting with all the other ministers.

I also remember a blind gentleman, whose name escapes me now - singing Were You There? He was a tall man. I was mesmerized with the fact that he was blind and had memorized the words of the song…..Were you there when they crucified my Lord? O! Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble. Were you there when they crucified my Lord?…..Were you there when they nailed Him to the tree?……..Were you there when they laid Him in the grave?…….Were you there when He rose up from the grave? His voice was strong and powerful and even as a young girl, my heart was moved by his singing.

I once had the opportunity to sing Sandi Patty’s Good Friday song at my church - Via Dolorosa!

Down the Via Dolorosa in Jerusalem that day - The soldiers tried to clear the narrow street. But the crowd pressed in to see - The man condemned to die at Calvary.

He was bleeding from a beating, there were stripes upon His back. And He wore a crown of thorns upon His head. And he bore with every step - The scorn of those who cried out for His death.

Down the Via Dolorosa called the way of suffering - Like a lamb came the Messiah, Christ the King. But He chose to walk that road out of His love for you and me - Down the Via Dolorosa, all the way to Calvary.

The blood that would cleanse the souls of all men - Made its way to the heart of Jerusalem. Down the Via Dolorosa, all the way to Calvary.

Good Friday! The Bible records the “seven” last words of Christ from the cross. #1. “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” #2. “I tell you the truth, today, you will be with me in paradise.” #3. “Behold your mother.” #4. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” #5. “I thirst.” #6. “It is finished.” #7. “Father, into Your hands I commit my spirit.”

My niece’s church in Montreal shared a daily reading for Holy week and I was pleasantly surprised and filled with joy as I read Tuesday’s reading - written by my great niece - Ella Morton - age 18. “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.” Ella writes - “These are some of the most comforting Jesus ever said. He was on the cross, suffering and still He had love and hope to give. The man beside Him, as thief, had made a lot of mistakes in his life, and was now being punished for them. He had nothing to offer, nothing to prove and still Jesus said “today you will be with me in paradise.” Just like that. I think this verse is a simple and perfect representation of who Jesus really is. He is full of truth, full or mercy, and full of love. He didn’t say “maybe” or “someday”. He said today. That means right away. There was no waiting and no more fear. Just peace, and a promise that will be kept.

That was Friday.

Easter Saturday must have been terrifying for those early believers. Jesus had been put to death on the cross the day before. His body had been taken down and lovingly anointed with oils and wrapped and put in a borrowed grave - a huge stone placed in front of the cave. I imagine they were in hiding. I imagine they thought they might be put to death next. I imagine they wondered how everything had gone so horribly wrong.

Silent Saturday. A wait. A pause. A process. Death had to occur for life to break through. Darkness had to have its fight in order to be defeated by the light.

The silence of Saturday speaks the message loud and clear. Time to trust. Time to take heart. The Resurrection is on the other side of silence and it was about to get LOUD!

Sunday morning! Early - just before dawn! Women wondering! Stone rolled away! Angel! No body! Empty tomb! He’s alive. Heaven and earth rejoicing!

Hillsong worship wrote this song about Good Friday and Easter Sunday - O Praise the Name!Verse three goes like this - “Then on the third at break of dawn, The Son of heaven rose again. O trampled death where is your sting? The angels roar for Christ the King. O praise the name of the Lord our God. O praise His name forever more. For endless days we will sing Your praise, O Lord, oh Lord our God. He shall return in robes of white, The blazing Son shall pierce the night. And I will rise among the saints, My gaze transfixed on Jesus’ face.”

I love this song. I love singing it. I love knowing that death has been trampled and the sting has been lessened. I imagine all of heaven - all the myriads of angels - roaring with joy on that first Easter morning. If we thought the angels were loudly proclaiming Christ’s birth - imagine their excitement at proclaiming His resurrection. The precious Son of God - had been dead - was now alive.

Can you feel it? I do! The weight of fear and frustration and heartbreak and worry and anxiety - presses us down - pressures us - squeezes us. Pure evil is on display in obvious ways. Wars! Hunger! Uncertainty! Anger! Fighting! Disease! Death!

But take heart. This heaviness leads to release.

The waiting of Holy Week leads to the joy of knowing that the resurrection of Christ provides peace and life for us. Jesus triumphed over death so we can live - here - right now - with peace in a wicked world - and - later - after death - in heaven. That’s good news. That’s better than good news. That’s great news.

Have a blessed Easter.

MY FRIEND - HEATHER CHAN

(Heather’s story is shared with her permission - in fact - she asked me to share her story in a blog).

We went shopping last Thursday. One of our favourite things to do together - besides racing and eating great food.

Heather and I met in the fall of 2008. Randy and I had sold our house in Hespeler (Cambridge) and moved to a real cool condo in downtown Galt (Cambridge). We were both big into running then, so we joined the Cambridge Harriers running group that ran out of Galt. That running group became some of our life long friends. The group ran Tuesday and Thursday evenings from 6:45 - 8:00 for training runs (hills and speed workouts) and on Saturday mornings for the long run (anywhere from 10 km to 25 km). It was in this running group, we first met Heather.

Early that fall, I arrived at running club ill prepared. It was cooler than I expected and my hands were cold. My new friend, Heather, offered me a pair of red gloves and then she told me to keep them. I kept them for many years. I wish I still had them. It was the first gift heather would give me but not the last.

From the beginning, Heather and I ran so many of the workouts together. We shared life. We chatted about everything. Randy teased Heather so much in those early days of friendship. He called her “shorty”. At first she didn’t know how to take his teasing but then came to understand his pastor’s heart. We all became fast friends.

At that time Randy and I were pastoring in Cambridge at the Warehouse Fellowship, which had recently transitioned into a Harvest Church. I invited Heather to our church and she said she would think about it. Then, one Sunday, out of the blue, Heather showed up at church! Wouldn’t you know it - I was sick at home with the flu that day and missed her. That didn’t deter her. For several Sundays, Heather attended our church. She was searching for truth. She was searching for grace and acceptance.

On a very stormy spring evening in 2009, Heather and I were the only ones who showed up for the training run. Our coach gave us the workout and then, he, (smart man) went home. After running for a bit - totally soaked to the bone - we decided to call it quits! Heather asked if she could come over to our condo to “chat”!

That’s an evening we’ll both never forget.

After some small talk - Heather got down to the real reason she wanted to come over! Having grown up in a family that attended a church very different from ours, she noticed the differences between the two. Heather said to me - “I want what you have - I want your faith!” She had never experienced what it was to have a personal faith. She wanted it in her own life.

Heather tells it this way! “Randy was up in the loft watching the Leafs and Martha called him to come down! Randy yells down that he was watching the Leafs and would come down at the end of the period! Martha yells back up the stairs and says Heather wants to have personal faith in Jesus! Randy was downstairs in seconds.” That night Heather’s life forever changed!

That same spring - Randy and I - experienced the termination of our pastoral duties at our church. Unexpected! Heartbreaking! Shocking! Heather didn’t understand what was going on. But, even in those early days of her young faith in God, she was a blessing and encouragement to us both.

We moved to Westport, Ontario, in May of that same year until things sorted themselves out and we would wait for the next step in our lives to happen. Would we go back into the pastoral ministry? Would we work in secular jobs? We waited and we prayed.

Many weekends throughout that summer and fall, Heather would make the long drive to Westport from Cambridge. One Saturday we went for a boat ride on the St. Lawrence River with some of my siblings - taking in the 1,000 islands.

Heather visited Randy and I several times during the year we lived in Westport. She was a great encouragement to us - she always brought cookies for us and treats for our dog, Maggie.

When we left Cambridge, we encouraged Heather to begin attending the church of friends of ours. The phone rang one evening and it was Heather. She had news. She had met someone at the church. His name was Pat. What should she do? How should she capture his attention? Over the next couple of years we watched their love grow for each other and I had the privilege of being Heather’s matron-of honour at their wedding.

Wasn’t Heather a beautiful bride. She wore her Mom’s wedding dress. We wore traditional kimonos over our dresses to honour Pat’s Asian culture and traditions.

No matter where I lived - Heather travelled to see me. I was her personal trainer for a number of years and she came to Westport, Everett and Kincardine for training. What fun we had together. We trained for several 5 kms, 10 kms, and half marathons and later on participated in the Kincardine triathlon together as well.

When Randy died in 2014, who was first on my doorstep with food, treats, and love? Heather! She drove all the way from Kitchener to drop off the goodies for us on that first morning after Randy’s passing. She just hugged me and shared some tears and hugs and went home.

When I told her a year and a half later that I had met Harvey - she was the first to send flowers and words of love and congratulations.

When my Mom came to live with us in November of 2020, you know who came to visit us. My Mom loved Heather and Heather loved my Mom. As usual, Heather arrived with gifts and chocolate and other treats for my Mom.

My Mom was quite interested in what was in the bag.

A few years ago Heather trained for a full marathon. She was diligent in her practice runs. She ate properly. She got herself a personal trainer in Kitchener and she completed the 42.2 km race. I was so proud of her. Only 2 percent of the population of the world completes a full marathon and she is in that 2 percent.

We were so excited the day Heather ran her full marathon. You go girl.

Late last summer and early in the fall, Heather experienced a drastic weight loss and other symptoms that led to appointments with doctors and the news was not what we hoped for. Heather has cancer. The initial diagnosis is always a huge shock. I drove to Kitchener to take her to one of her first appointments. We laughed so much about the length of the gown on her. It was massive on her tiny body. That first appointment was difficult and painful but always the smile, even if it was somewhat subdued on that day.

Lots of tests and appointments and treatments these past 6 months!

Most days, my “little sister” Heather is one of the most optimistic people I know. Even with tests and appointments and uncertainty - Heather is upbeat and positive. She knows she is in for a big fight with this disease and chooses to look at the bright side. She walks daily. She goes to the gym. She naps. She eats little bits at a time. She goes to church. She has coffee with family and friends. We text almost daily. She takes the pain in stride. She takes life right now - one day at a time - sometimes one hour at a time.

The red gloves!

Daniel Luke Nelson wrote a poem called “Friendship”. It aptly describes the friendship Heather and I share.

Friendship is to trust. Friendship is having the kindness to help. Friendship is giving to each other without thinking. Friendship is being there when needed. Friendship is a smile that brightens each other’s day. Friendship is giving more than you expect to receive. Friendship is listening. Friendship is offering your opinion when the think you need to. Friendship is holding a hand for support. Friendship is lending your shoulder to cry on. Friendship stands the test of time. Friendship is not always easy. Friendship is hard to break apart. Friendship is unforgettable. Friendship is priceless. Friendship is to share joys and fears. Friendship is having someone to laugh with. Friendship is knowing they are there. Friendship is personal. Friendship is all these things and more. To have a true Friend is the best thing to achieve.

As Heather has walked through some difficult times with me, I’m walking with her right now. We’re in this together. She’s the little sister I never had. She’s my sweet friend. She’s a warrior princess. She never gives up.

Psalm 103 - “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless His Holy Name. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits….Who forgives all our sins and heals all our diseases……Who redeems our life from destruction……Who crowns us with lovingkindness and tender mercies. The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and plenteous in mercy. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great His mercy is toward them who love him. Bless the Lord, all His works in all places of His dominion. Bless the Lord, O my soul.”

RENOVATIONS! THEY'RE ALMOST COMPLETED!

A couple of months ago I wrote a blog - LOVE IT OR LIST IT - (February 13) - about our upcoming renovations. Plans have been in place since last summer to make some changes in our kitchen, dining room and living room. It would happen (for the most part) while we vacationed in Curacao for the month of March. (A shout out to Heather and fam for keeping us in the loop with pictures and commentary while we were away).

Before we left for Curacao, we emptied the living room - den - and dining room - of all the furniture. We packed up the kitchen and carried box after box downstairs to be stored. We set up our folding table and small appliances in the basement and I must say - the air fryer was a game changer for cooking.

The first thing to happen was the removal of the old cabinets in the kitchen. Our contractor carefully extracted them and we were able to sell them to a wonderful couple from the Bancroft area - where they would fit perfectly in their century old farmhouse. Do you know how heavy those black granite counter tops weigh? It took four very strong men to lift them onto the truck! Well done!

Next - the windows. We imagined that the brand new windows would not be installed until the summer time but the B family who built our house arranged - very quickly - the removal of the walls in the dining room and living room. We were able to witness the outside bricks being removed but were not here when the actual windows went in. Heather came over that first afternoon and snapped some pictures. I was blown away.

The morning we left for Curacao, the flooring crew arrived! They had huge sanding machines that stripped the dark brown stain off of the hardwood. The three men worked tirelessly for five days and the changes were instant. After the final coat of stain was applied - no one could walk on it for three days. I know Heather and family were anxious to get in to see it and take pictures for me. They peered in through the windows and stood at the doorway and when they sent the pictures to us, we were blown away. What a difference.

I was certain that the changes to the hardwood would be my favourite part of the Reno’s! But as each job was completed……it got harder and harder to pick what I loved best.

I’m a huge advocate for natural light in a home. Studies show there is a connection between depression and darkness. Seasonal affective disorder (SAD) is a type of major depressive disorder that’s linked to seasonal changes and lack of sunshine. Symptoms can vary from mild to severe and can impact daily life…..usually during fall and winter. There’s no way to prevent SAD - we live where we live but we can manage it……expose yourself to natural light - both inside your home and outside - and go for a walk every day.

The two new windows are game changers!

The difference these two new windows make is “night and day!” When I wake up in the morning and walk into the living room/dining room - I’m blown away.

The kitchen cabinets arrived just before we got home and were exactly what we discussed and ordered. White! The island is painted aqua - a pop of colour to accent beach living! The counter tops arrive next week and the backsplash two more weeks after that. White! The electrician has the kitchen wired and ready to go.

Not a snaggle anywhere in the process - until last week! When Harv and the electrician moved the fridge out to do the wiring for the ice maker - the rollers on the fridge left scratches in the newly finished floor. Yes! A few gouges! Not enough to notice right away - only if you look real close.

But isn’t that like life. So many of our days are filled with really good things. Children. Grandchildren. Health. Friendship. Travel. But then there are moments - minutes - hours - days - sometimes even months or years - that feel scratchy and gouged, messy and uncomfortable, gashed and slashed - far from perfect.

It’s not the uncomfortable messes though, that define us! It’s our responses to them. How do we react? In the messy - in the dirty - in the uncomfortable - in the imperfect - in the not-so-nice conversations - how do we respond? A very wise man once said - “let every person be quick to listen, but slow to use their tongue - slow to lose their temper - slow to anger!” Do we become bitter or better?

I learned much in 2014/2015 about being gashed and slashed and scratchy. Buechner wrote: To be commanded to love God at all, let alone in the uncomfortable, is like being commanded to be well when we are sick, to sing for joy when we are dying of thirst, to run when our legs are broken. But this is the first and greatest commandment nonetheless. Even in the uncomfortable - especially in the uncomfortable - I will love Him.”

John Newton wrote: “When you cannot see your way, be satisfied that God is your leader. When your spirit is overwhelmed within you, He knows your path; He will not leave you to sink. God has appointed you seasons of refreshment and you will find He has not forgotten you. Above all keep close to the throne of grace. If we seem to get no good by attempting to draw near Him, we may be sure we shall get none by keeping away from Him.”

When we began to consider renovations, my motive was to make our home comfortable for all - grandkids and grand-dogs - friends and family - light and airy - a place where the sand is easy to sweep up - where light pours in in the early hours of the morning when we’re sipping our coffee - where the sun is the last thing we see as it dips into the lake at the end of the day! Some day when I’m long gone and the family are sitting around - talking about days gone by - I hope they will be saying things like - “I loved being at Grammie and Papa’s beach house! I loved splashing in the hot tub! I loved sitting around the table! I loved playing in the yard! I loved that they loved having us at their house! I love that the snack cupboard was stocked full of our favourites! I loved playing games around the table! I loved curling up on the couch to watch a movie or read a book!”

The coffee is always on! The couch is comfy! Conversation awaits your arrival! Come on over! See you soon!

BLESSED BEYOND MEASURE

We have spent the last three weeks in Curacao - a beautiful Dutch island in the southern Caribbean. We have enjoyed stunning weather - sunny and breezy - 31 degrees at the height of the noon hour - 28 degrees at bedtime - the cool of air conditioning to sleep in - swimming in the ocean or pool - hikes and climbs at the two national parks - swimming with “one turtle” - exploring beaches and coves - eating yummy food at home and at restaurants - reading and meditating - walks in the “cool” of the morning before the sun is fully up or in the evening after the sun has set - conversations with our friends and people we’ve just met - calls and messages from home from the kids and grandkids and siblings - it’s been wonderful.

In all of this wonder and beauty - we met so many people who complain about - well - just about everything. “The beach isn’t long enough to walk on. The Villa’s aren’t as up-to-date as they’d like. The wifi is slow. The pool doesn’t get cleaned to their liking. The ocean is too wavy. The ocean is too still. There are sandflies on the sand. There are no “real” ovens in the Villa’s - only air fryers.” It goes on and on! I tried to shut my ears to all the complaining. I want to just say - “well - go home!”

“Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances.” If one can’t be joyful and grateful and thankful in a place like this - imagine what they are like at home.

“Let heaven and earth praise Him, the seas and all that move in them!”

Morning sun, light of creation. Grassy fields, a velvet floor. Silver Clouds, a shimmering curtain. He’s designed the perfect world.

Crazy creatures that absolutely arrived as soon as someone decided to eat something. This fellow jumped right up on a neighbour’s lawn chair to try to get a bite of apple.

I swam with this gentle giant.

“A day without a friend is like a pot without a single drop of honey left inside!” Winnie the Pooh

Someone’s trash is another person’s treasure. There are creative artists who live on Curacao who retrieve the trash from the sea and turn it into art.

“Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy. It does not boast. It is not proud. It does not dishonour others. It is not self-seeking. It is not easily angered. It keeps no records of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects. It always trusts. It always hopes. It always perseveres. Love never fails.”

It was Hannah Whitall Smith who said - “the soul that gives thanks can find comfort in everything - while the soul that complains can find comfort in nothing!” I quoted Smith in my January blog about complaining.

My friend - HC - continues to fight cancer that invaded her body last fall. She is an example to me every time I talk with her or correspond in words. When I ask how she’s doing - she writes things like - “I’m doing fine. Trainer this morning. Eating is going good. Feeling better overall. I’m going to the Y - then pickleball and a walk in the sunshine. Stretch class today. Good day so far - sunshine and 0 degrees. Out walking in the sunshine. Have fun on the beach.” Do these words sound like they are coming from someone who has a devastating disease? She could be the one complaining about so much - but not so. She is an example of grace and trust and faith.

I love you HC. Thank you for who you are.

A flamboyance of Flamingos brought such great joy to us.

In my area of influence - I want to be an encourager. I long to bring encouragement and joy in other’s lives.

MY BROTHER - TIM - WOULD HAVE TURNED 70 ON MARCH 17TH!

Happy Birthday Tim! You’d be 70! I wish you were here to celebrate with Lorraine and your kids and the rest of us. I can’t believe you’ve been gone for almost 31 years.

My parents - Stan and Alice Castle - had 9 children - Marilyn - Bob - Susan - Brenda - Harry - Ted - Philip - Tim and me! Tim was born in 1955 and me in - 1958.

I spent my childhood and youth - playing and hanging with my brothers - especially Phil and Tim. Yes - they were 5 and 3 years older but they included me in everything. I don’t ever remember a time when they told me to “get lost!” Through elementary and high school we were “in each other’s back pockets” - then Phil moved out west and next - Tim was off to college in Lindsay. After graduation Tim took a job with the ministry of Natural Resources up in Dryden and then Red Lake. I missed my brothers.

An interesting fun fact about the Castle children - we all married in order from Marilyn on down. Tim married Lorraine the summer before Randy and me - and as the story goes - Randy called Tim just prior to the news that Tim and Lorraine were getting married to say he was going to propose to me and Tim should get on with proposing to Lorraine!!! He did and the rest is history. We married the next summer after Tim and Lorraine.

Tim and Lorraine married in 1978 and lived in the north all of their lives together. They settled on McKenzie Island - (population 150) - across Red Lake from Balmertown. At one time, McKenzie Island was a thriving island community because of the gold mines operating there. Apparently there were two stores - The Bay and Kollman’s, a movie theatre, a drug store, a bank, a bakery, a butcher’s, a barber shop, a post office, a school and 3 airlines. Not so - when Tim and Lorraine lived there.

Randy and I visited Tim and Lorraine and their two kids twice in the 80’s. We made the long drive from Orillia - stopping to camp at Pancake Bay, Kakabeka Falls, and other campgrounds along the way that I can’t remember. I do remember the first summer we went - 1981 - I was pregnant with Zac and I threw up every morning as we drove north! I’d yell - “pull over” and when the car stopped, I opened the door and hurl all over the side of the road. I also remember staying at Kakabeka Falls because it’s such a cool name and because it was daylight until almost midnight. Our vacations at Tim and Lorraine’s home on the island were idyllic. Our babies were young together - we swam and boated and fished and picked blueberries and ate good food and laughed and played games. We were so young.

The call came on a Sunday night - just after midnight - the early hours of July 25th, 1994. I could tell from Randy’s voice that it was bad news - someone had died. As I listened I thought - probably someone from our church family - not ever imagining in a thousand years that it was my beloved big brother - Tim. My brother Ted was making the calls to each of us siblings - relating the very sad news - Tim had drowned Sunday afternoon in the McKenzie River.

I remember being stunned when Randy shared the story - or at least all that Ted knew so far. I was in shock. I got out of bed and my legs gave way. I felt like I was going to be sick to my stomach. I couldn’t believe the news.

We prayed - for Lorraine - the kids - my parents - our siblings - Tim’s friends - and tried to go back to sleep but sleep would not come that night and for many nights to come.

In the morning - we told our boys. They were young. Their hearts broke for my heart.

More important - I knew that four of my siblings had met on that Monday morning at my parent’s home - near Westport to break the news to my mom and dad…..they didn’t phone them in the middle of the night but would tell them face to face. Marilyn, Brenda, Phil and Ted met on the cottage road and wouldn’t you know it - my Dad was already walking their dog in the cool of the early morning - 7 am. Obviously, when he saw the four of them, my Dad knew that something was up. After they told him - his thoughts and words were only for Mom. ‘“Oh, Al! She’ll be devastated!” The five of them (and the dog) walked up the cottage road hill and Mom saw them from the kitchen window……”what?”

My siblings shared the news and Mom just kept saying - “Timmie. Timmie. Timmie!” Her beloved youngest son was dead.

Tim and his 14 year old son, Scott, had gone on a canoe trip for the weekend and were making their way back home Sunday afternoon. The two of them had spent the weekend canoeing, swimming, fishing, and enjoying being together. Scott told us later that on the Saturday night, as they lay looking up at the star-lit velvety black sky, Tim spoke of heaven. He spoke to Scott about the after life - about heaven - about the things that God is preparing for us - that we all need to be ready because we never know when our time will come!

As they approached Red Lake - late on that Sunday afternoon - they decided to empty their bags and equipment onto the shore and maneuver their canoe through the small set up rapids in the McKenzie River - something they had done many, many times before. There was some white water but nothing dangerous. They were both wearing their life jackets.

They were about halfway through the rapids when the canoe tipped them out in only about 4 or 5 feet of water. Scott swam to shore and Tim decided to stay with the canoe and guide it through the rocks. For some reason that day - the canoe started to go sideways and Tim was being pushed by the force of the water and the canoe. Suddenly the aluminum canoe folded in half and trapped Tim in it - under the water - between two huge rocks. The canoe wouldn’t budge - it was stuck. Scott immediately jumped into the river and tried with all his might to push on the canoe to free it so Tim would be released. It would take 28 hours before the canoe was freed - 28 hours before Tim’s body would be free from his watery grave. The OPP divers worked tirelessly all those hours. It was Tim’s best friend - Big John - who, early Monday evening - 28 hours after Tim’s body was pinned beneath the canoe - banged on the canoe and prayed - “Dear God - please release Tim’s body”. Immediately the canoe slid from the rocks and Tim’s body popped up the surface.

It was a long - sad drive north. All of us siblings made the journey to McKenzie Island to share in Lorraine’s grief and support and love her. We stayed on the island at a Mission Hostel - all of us together. Many of Lorraine and Tim’s church friends brought us food. We heard stories from his friends of how much he was loved.

I wept through the service. I couldn’t sing the hymns but I believed the words. “Day by day and with each passing moment - strength I find to meet my trials here!” “Because He lives, I can face tomorrow - because He lives, all fear is gone - Because I know He holds the future - and life is worth the living - just because He lives.” I was steadied by Tim’s pastor as he spoke the truth of God’s Word about heaven and the afterlife. I wept and laughed through Big John’s eulogy! He quoted Tim’s favourite poem. Tim knew it by heart. I also knew most of it because when we were teenagers - doing the supper dishes together - Tim rehearsed it over and over again - The Cremation of Sam McGee. “There are strange things done in the midnight sun - by the men who moil for gold - the Arctic trails have their secret tales - that would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights - But the queerest they ever did see - was the night on the marge of Lake Lebarge - I cremated Sam McGee.” There are 15 stanzas in this poem! (Check it out!) Tim memorized the whole poem in 1974 and 20 years later he could still say it without making a mistake.

And now - this July - it will be 31 years since that weekend - that started so happy - and ended so tragically. March 17th - Tim would have turned 70! I can’t but wonder what kind of man he would be today and yet I know! Loving. Kind. Gracious. Happy. Faithful. He always had a smile on his face. He was all those things and more.

And now - I also reflect that as he spoke of heaven to Scott - Tim was ready. He had given his life to Jesus as a young boy - was baptized in our home church in Cornwall and was a leader in his church in Red Lake. He knew where he was going. He graced the way for the rest of us.

Love you Tim. Love my memories of happy years as kids and teenagers. You were a fun and good big brother to me and a sweet little brother to the rest of our siblings. You’ll always be young.

HIKING CHRISTOFFEL MOUNTAIN - CURACAO

We’re in Curacao with friends. It’s our first visit to this beautiful island but definitely won’t be our last. We’ve rented a sweet villa at Blue Bay Resort - swim - read - meet new people - walk - and since we’ve rented a car for this vacation, we’re taking in some of the sights on this lovely Caribbean island.

I made a short list of a few things to do before we came down and on my list was a visit to Christoffel National Park. Although there are many things to do and see at the park - I wanted to climb the mountain. The mountain is approximately 1220 feet high - the highest point on the island - where you literally have a 360 view. On a clear day - some say - you can see Venezuella. (We didn’t).

We read several reviews before we went and all of them said - start early to beat the heat of the day! So…….Harv, Julie and I were up at 5:15 am and in the car by 5:45 and at the Park by 6:20. We paid our entrance fee and drove the 3 km to the parking lot at the foot of the mountain where Julie and I would start the climb. It would take between 2 and 3 hours to go up and down.

The entrance to the trail. Notice how smooth and wide it is!

Before long, the trail narrowed, the incline increased and we had to maneuver around boulders!!!

At our first opening from the trail - we caught our first glimpse of the ocean and the sun coming up over the mountain. To God be the glory!

My heart rate was definitely elevated as we climbed up and up!

We’re almost at the top! At this point - we were on all fours!

We made it to the summit in about one hour and twenty minutes.

All smiles!

The trip down!

The path down got easier and easier.

After close to three hours we reached the bottom. We met a new friend and she hiked with us most of the way down.

When we were parents of young sons - we often said - “Jolliffe’s aren’t quitters!” My parents often said - “finish what you started!” Mark Twain said - “The secret of getting ahead is getting started.” Nelson Mandela was heard to say - “It’s always seems impossible until it’s done!” The apostle James reminds us - “Count it all joy, my brothers and sisters, when you meet trials of various kinds….for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. Let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete - lacking in nothing.”

The above sayings were good reminders to myself during and after the tough climb the other day!

Here’s what I think about such a trek!

#1. I’m thankful for my strong body. I’m thankful I’m able to go to the gym and work on strength training. I’m grateful for the coaches at NO DRAMA FITNESS who offer encouragement and grace each and everyday - who challenge me to do what I can with what I have.

#2. I’m thankful for my friend, Julie, who is a good sport to go along with some of my hair-brained ideas. It’s nice to have a “partner in crime!” A shout out to Julie - who very early on the climb, rolled her ankle but kept going. It wasn’t until we got home and she took off her shoe…….that we saw that she had aggravated her foot. RICE for Julie for a few days.

#3. I’m thankful we hit the trail early before the heat of the day set in. We brought plenty of water and stopped every 15 minutes or so for breaks and hydration.

#4. It was a special treat to see the sun coming up around the mountain. “The heavens declare the glory of God and the sky above proclaims His handiwork.”

#5. It was hard at some points along the upper part of the mountain - we were on all fours - sometimes needing to step on boulders that were almost two feet high, using out finger tips to hold on to the walls on either side - but we knew we were close to the prize and for sure would keep going! There were “new” friends along the way who offered a helping hand to pull us up or push us from behind! We need each other!

#6. Julie and I both agreed that it was exhilarating and a real adrenaline rush when we finished. It’s lovely (at our ages) to still be accomplishing things we’ve never done before. We will keep at it.

I’m reminded of Pilgrim - of the great book - Pilgrim’s Progress - by John Bunyan. Bunyan’s book is a Christian allegory - the story follows a man named Christian as he leaves the City of Destruction and journeys to a place called the Celestial City, encountering all sorts of roadblocks, mountains, treacherous pathways etc. along the way. On a deeper level, Pilgrim’s Progress - charts the journey of an average Christian as they walk through this life until they get to Heaven - with its roadblocks, mountains and treacherous pathways!

Keep moving. Don’t give up. Live life to the full.

A PICTURE SPEAKS ONE THOUSAND WORDS - MY WINTER IN A NUTSHELL

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven. (Eccl.3:1) A very long time ago King Solomon penned these various famous words - words that are quoted at birth and at death - at planting and at harvest - at war and at peace - when weeping or laughing - when staying in one place or moving on to the next - when keeping silent or speaking - when loving or hating!

We all experience seasons in our lives! The regular seasons come to mind - winter, spring, summer and fall. We all experience seasons of joy and newness and growth as well as sadness and loss.

I think of the seasons of my life thus far - a little girl in a big family - a teenager in the ever-changing 70’s - finding out who I was - college life - marriage - motherhood with 3 babies - who became toddlers - then adolescents - then teenagers themselves - becoming a mother-in-law (3 times) - Grammie life - the death of my first husband - remarriage - retirement living.

Whatever season we find ourselves in - it has a beginning and an end. A new season is always around the corner! Most bring hope and relief and a deeper sense of faith and peace.

My (literal) winter season (2025)!

Snow and more snow! Twenty-seven bus cancellations in Bruce County. It seemed to go on and on!

Christmas in Kitchener with the O.J’s and K J’s. It’s a blessing for this Grammie when the kids and grandkids gather together. Laugher and chatting and games and a few arguments always make times together memorable. Our family day weekend in Toronto was cancelled……because of snow and more snow! Until the summer then……..

Birthday in Antigua. I turned 67 this past January. Always grateful for another trip around the sun.

My book arrived on a snowy day in January. I wrote this book last year - all about my memories - for my grandchildren to know and read - long after I’m gone!

Oh Canada! We beat the USA in the 4 Nations Cup in overtime! I’m a proud Canadian - always will be - and I cheer loud and proud for my country.

Thankful for Sunday mornings and my church. Each week - the singing and message - revitalizes my faith - encourages my heart and blesses my soul.

Reno”s happening at 56 Boiler Beach. More windows - stripping the brown off the hardwood to blond - kitchen cabinets and such. We’ve been hobbits for the last few weeks - living in the basement.

Didn’t get to watch any volleyball tournaments (they were all out of town) - but thankful that Caleb found his “tribe” in Kincardine with the OVA U14’s! He loves the game!

Upon returning from Antigua in January - 100 little duckies found a home in our home! Hmmm - the Kincardine J’s had fun planting them all over the house - 8 are still to be found but you know - come summertime - they may find their way back to Lynden Drive.

We landed in beautiful Curacao a few days ago and will spend a few weeks here - a wonderful respite from winter! When we go home - perhaps spring?

My friend - Julie - is always up for an adventure.

Thankful to share life together with Harv.

“He has made everything beautiful in its time.”

NEVER ONCE

Matt Redman wrote a song many years ago called “NEVER ONCE”. It is a song of hope and encouragement. It’s a song about finding grace in Jesus, even when life is confusing. It conveys the idea that God is faithful and will never leave us nor forsake us.

“Standing on this mountain top - Looking just how far we’ve come - Knowing that for every step - You were with us……Kneeling on this battle ground - Seeing just how much You’ve done - Knowing every victory - was Your power in us……..Scars and struggles on the way - But with joy our hearts can say - Yes, our hearts can say…….

Never once did we ever walk along - Never once did You leave us on our own - You are faithful - God - You are faithful”

On my 16th birthday, my mom was told that she had cancer. Back in the 70’s a cancer diagnosis was devastating. It still is. I was so scared. I couldn’t imagine life without my mother. Even during that difficult, uncertain time - as I look back now - I see how God’s hand was on my mom - my dad - our family and myself - growing me - challenging my young faith - grooming me to trust even in the most painful circumstances. This wasn’t the only difficulty I would ever experience. There would be more but the more would show me God’s greater power and greater strength in and through me.

My Mom would live another 46 years after her cancer diagnosis - she died in 2021 in her 101st year.

John Rippon wrote these words - “When through fiery trials - thy pathways shall lie, My grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply; The flame shall not hurt thee, I only design - Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.”

In Tim Keller’s book - Walking with God through Pain and Suffering - he wrote - “Modern Western people see suffering as something like adverse weather, something you avoid or insulate yourself from until it passes by.” However - if we want to know who we truly are - what our strengths and weaknesses are - to know if we are compassionate and wise - to know if we are prone to trust in the disappointments in life or prone to bitterness - we must be tested. Keller says - “There is no way to really learn how to trust in God until you are drowning.”

The second real test in my life is when I had my third son in August of 1984. I already had two wee ones at home - Zac was 2 - Ben was 1 - and Pete was to be born. I went into the hospital for my scheduled C-Section on Sunday afternoon - ready to go on the Monday morning. I remember being super excited knowing that soon I would meet either our third son or our first daughter. Randy went home to wait for the few hours I would be in surgery and recovery. Things went very wrong - very quickly. The anaesthetist and nurse came into the OR and all the doctor said was “roll over on your side and draw your knees up!” I did! He administered the epidural and then he and the nurse left the room. They left the room. I was alone. I felt the anaesthetic go down my body and legs and then just as quickly - up my torso to my neck and down my arms. I was completely paralyzed from my neck to my toes. I couldn’t move a muscle. I knew it. I knew I was in trouble. I knew my baby was in trouble. Neither of us would live if we didn’t get help. I wasn’t breathing. I couldn’t move and I couldn’t yell for help. My life flashed in front of me. I was calm. And then I wasn’t. In my head - I pleaded with the Lord to let me live. I asked God to send help. I asked Him to spare me and my baby - so I could be a wife to Randy and mom to my three children. God answered. He sent doctors and nurses into the OR and very quickly I was put on life support - my baby son was born and the paralysis all disappeared within 4-6 hours. “Scars and struggles on the way - but with joy our hearts can say - never once did we ever walk alone.”

I cry a lot. Tears come easy. It’s good to lament. Remember the guy - Job - when he finds out his children have died - finds out that he has lost his home and farm - animals and stock - the Bible says “Job tore his robe and fell to the ground but in all this he didn’t sin.” We can express grief and sadness with powerful emotions.

My third very sad test came in 1994 - my brother Tim drowned in a canoeing accident. You know when the phone rings after midnight - it’s not going to be a call with good news (unless you have a new grandchild on the way!) In the summer of 1994, it was a very sad call to receive. Tim was three years older than me - we grew up together - we had always been super close, tight siblings. He was a husband and a dad. Tim and his son had been on a weekend away and were coming home on the Sunday afternoon, when whitewater overturned their canoe. Scott swam to shore - and Tim tried to guide the aluminum canoe through the bouncy water. The canoe hit some rocks - folded in half and pinned Tim under. Heartbreaking. Devastating. The night we received that horrible news, I clung to Randy and wept my heart out. That week I cried until I wondered how there could be anymore tears. We buried Tim the next week. Thirty years later, I still miss him. “Carried by Your constant grace - Held within Your perfect peace - Never once, no, we never walk alone.”

There would be more times to come of learning and trusting. God allowed us to trust Him through the loss of our pastoral responsibilities in not one - but two churches. We saw friends turn their backs on us through those times. We would watch - first as Randy’s mom suffered with cancer and passed to Glory - then my Dad - then Randy’s Dad diagnosed with dementia - Randy going Home to Glory suddenly - his Dad - my Mom - other family members passing away - saw the marriages of loved ones and friends disintegrate - difficult diagnoses of cancer - a lot of heart ache.

BUT - there’s been so much joy too. My marriages. Watching my sons grow to be strong men. The marriages of my children. Grandchildren born. Great jobs. Awesome vacations. Close relationships. Friendships that have flourished. Siblings that I love. Eating good food. My cup has overflown with blessings.

“Every step we’re breathing in Your grace - Evermore we’ll be breathing out Your praise. You are faithful, God, You are faithful.”

I wrote these words following the death of Randy in 2014 - “Above all, follow Christ. That takes precedence over every other priority - over every other commitment, obligation and personal need. Follow Christ fully.

Never Once have I ever walked alone. Thank You - God - for this great gift.

I even wrote a wee book a few years ago - I called it Never Once.

OTHER BOATS

A very long time ago, Randy preached a sermon called “Other Boats”. It was based on the account of when Jesus was with his disciples on the sea of Galilee. ‘On that [same] day, when evening had come, He said to them, “Let us go over to the other side [of the Sea of Galilee].” So leaving the crowd, they took Him with them, just as He was, in the boat. And other boats were with Him.

I’ve often thought about that sermon and that phrase - “other boats were with Him.” Why did the author include that sentence. What did he want us to remember? Where can I apply this to my life.

I get seasick quite easily. I remember a trip to the Caribbean several years ago where we signed up for a snorkling tour and the sea was a tad bit wild. A bit. Not overly but……the boat we travelled on to reach the reef - bounced up and down and down and up. When we reached the area where we would snorkle - it wasn’t much calmer however, like a good sport, I donned my snorkel and fins and jumped into the water. After a few minutes, I grabbed onto Randy’s arm and managed to tell him that I didn’t feel well. He pulled me over to the boat and shoved me over the side. I lay on floor of the boat with literally, my stomach and head rolling - I couldn’t see straight. I closed my eyes! I prayed! I leaned over the side and heaved my cookies into the ocean.

I can only imagine how the disciples felt that night so long ago on the Sea of Galilee. The wind raged - the waves pounded - the men with Jesus were terrified - but in a one succinct sentence - with a word from Jesus - everything quieted down. A miracle.

While I don’t love the motion of the seas - I do love the part in this story where it was recorded that there were other boats with them. They were not alone in this storm. Neither am I. And neither are you.

It’s important to reach out to the other boats. It’s imperative that we not ever walk alone. It’s also so important to let others reach out to us.

Young mom - tired of folding endless diapers (do people still fold diapers) - night feedings - countless reading of the same storybook - preparing meal after meal - washing and drying clothes - struggling to get your toddlers in and out of their snowsuits -know that there are boatloads of other young moms who want to walk along side of you and share life together.

Grandparent - living with aches and pains of an aging body - living with the heartache of children who are upset with you - living far away from your grandchildren - living with the fear that the income you worked so hard for all your life will not last - watching your friends and loved ones pass away - there are boatloads of seniors who share these same realities and will walk along side of you and share life together.

Separated/Divorced/Widowed Sister - living with the devastation of your marriage cut short - eating supper alone night after night - going to events by yourself - sleeping alone in your big bed - wondering if you’ll be able to get by financially - grief that pounds on your heart like the waves on the shore - you aren’t going through this alone - there are boatloads of women who are also in the same situations and will cry with you, hold you, advise you and walk your journey with you.

Teenager - trying not to say or do anything stupid that would attract negative attention in your classroom - learning to exert independence in certain areas yet maintaining honour and obedience to your parents - trying to juggle school work and sports and after school jobs and family and friends and not quite sure how to cope with them all - there are boatloads of youth pastors and aunts and uncles and grandparents and friends who will encourage you - challenge you - bless you - hang out with you and walk your journey with you.

Dads - trying to be the best husband - the best father - the best employee - the best neighbour - the best coach - the best - the best - the best - but struggling in one or more of these relationships - hang on - there are boatloads of other dads who want to be a part of your life to encourage you - to be your friend - to listen to you - to laugh with you - to shoot some hoops with you - to share your journey with you.

The thing is - there are other boats all around us who will - if we are willing - who will enter into our lives to love and support us.

I had our boys in pretty quick succession - January 1982, April 1983 and August 1984. I was that young mom up to my ears in babies and diapers and little sleep. There were other boats around me at that time who reached out to me - to care for me and my littles - to do my laundry - to mop my floors - to hug me when I was overwhelmed - to bring us meals when I was too tired to cook - who babysat our three wee sons and gifted us with money to go out for dinner - who took me shopping for new clothes - who challenged me how to love my husband - who shared my journey with me. I’m forever grateful.

Have you watched Moana? I have! I watched Moana 2 last night with Adele and Indigo while their parents and brothers were at hockey. I’m still not sure of what all happened (I may have napped during the movie) but I got the basic gist of the story……and I noticed two things! When Moana and her crew left their island to go search for people - all the boats from their small island accompanied them to the reef - to encourage them and send them off! Hmmmm! Interesting. And lovely. And meaningful. The second thing I noticed was upon Moana’s return to her island. After an hour and a half of watching rolling oceans, watching them getting into messes and getting out etc. - they find what they’ve been looking for - people. I was excited for them. And then this! The last scene of the movie shows their boat arriving back at their island and then the camera pans behind them - so many boats accompanying them - so many boats with them - as far as the eye could see. They were never alone.

There are so many boats out there - ships - canoes - yachts - cruisers - sailboats - kayaks - rafts - ferries - schooners - catamarans - dinghies - sloops - steamboats - rowboats - pontoons - freighters and more - all waiting to accompany you in your journey.

Reach out to them. Don’t give up. Accept the other boat in your life.

Or - be the other boat!

LOVE IT OR LIST IT

Should we stay or should we go?

We’ve all watched HGTV - including the hit show - LOVE IT OR LIST IT! The gist of the show goes like this! “When a house no longer feels like home, homeowners are left with the big emotional question: renovate or sell it? Love It or List It helps fed-up homeowners decide. In each episode realtor David Visentin and designer Page Turner compete for the homeowners' final decision to stay or go. David's insider perspective on the real estate market helps target listings to prospective buyers, but Page is determined to show homeowners she can transform their worn-out house into something they can love.”

Last May, you may recall that Harv and I decided to list it! With the help of our fantastic realtor - Mo MacKenzie - we staged our home so that potential buyers would want to buy it. In the meantime, we found a lovely new build bungalow close to downtown Kincardine. It would be the home that Harv and I chose together - our “first” home in our 8 year marriage.

I had a 30 year plan - ten years in a bungalow - 10 years in a condo - 10 years in one of my kid’s basement!

When I married Harvey back in 2016, I moved to his lovely home in Kincardine. It’s on the lake. It’s spacious. We can fit our large family in for vacations and dinners. We added a fantastic patio and fire pit in the side yard a few years ago. We had the basement finished to accommodate sleepovers and parties. We bought a hot tub that gets used (almost) everyday - it has held at least 8 grandchildren once or twice. Our home is lovely.

Back to last May……..Mo did a fantastic job of promoting our home…….he worked so hard for us………..he held several Open Houses…….advertised in Cottage Life (that was cool to see)………online videos………and only 4 people requested private showings. No offers. Clear message! Not the time to sell. Not the time to move.

One comment that people made over and over again to our realtor was that there is “not sufficient natural light” in the living room, dining room and kitchen area of our home. I totally agree.

Shortly after we took our house off the market, Harv broached the idea to me of renovating those areas of the house where it could use some lightening up.

And so…….the loving it……begins next week. Renos!

Two great big windows - one in the living room and one in the dining room are going in to let the sunshine in. The kitchen cabinets and island will be carefully removed by our contractor Guy - (and are sold to be reused)…….the dark brown hardwood is being stripped and redone to a soft blond shade……….the dark brown table and chairs and massive hutch are sold to be loved by my niece……..the new kitchen is being built by Acacia Fine Cabinetry…..white…….the black countertop will be replaced with white and black appliances with stainless.

We want our house to be more comfortable - to be more welcoming - to be more child friendly - to be lighter - to be ours!

I can’t help but compare the house renovations to real life renovations……it’s my desire to keep moving ahead in my life…….not being content to living in the past - with all its hangups and nets - dragging me down…….recognizing the ugly things in my heart that need to be changed……listening more……..being more patient………not repaying nasty for nasty………..

Romans 12:9-21 is one of my favourite passages in the Bible!

“Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honour. Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs and seek to show hospitality.

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Never be wise in your own sight. Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honourable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceable with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written - ‘Vengeeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.’ To the contrary, ‘if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.’ Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

We choose “love it”.

“I’ll post pictures when the redo is redone.

THE ART OF GATHERING

I love - love - love - having people in our home! For a meal! For coffee! To chat! To laugh. To cry. To share stories.

I come by it honestly. I learned from my Momma - who learned from her Momma (Grandmother).

GATHER - so many opportunities for this word to come to fruition come to my mind - “to collect things - from different places” - “to put your arms around someone and hold and carry them in a careful and loving way” - “to become faster, stronger” - “to make a greater effort to be stronger and braver and more courageous” - “to make myself ready to do something special or difficult or challenging”.

Some similar words that come to my mind - assemble, congregate, combine, connect, merge, arrange, concentrate, join, rally, forage, understand, surmise - to name a few.

The older I get - the more I realize that gathering around my table is more about seeking connection with each other - having our hearts drawn together over shared food and laughter and stories - letting go of expectations and enjoying those moments - being vulnerable in the intimacy of the table conversation.

In 2016, my son, Ben, was preparing to graduate with his Master of Arts (Religion) at Reformed Theological Seminary - as he continued pastoring Resurrection Church in Ottawa. He wrote his thesis on - What it means to be hospitable: Paul’s commands in light of his Mediterranean context! I pulled out his book last week and reread it. (It is good). He used three major works that sourced out what the Greeks, Romans and Jews thought about hospitality in the early centuries and why it is still important today……Entertaining Angels by Stephen Arterbury…….Making Room by Christine Pohl…….and And You Welcomed Me by Amy Oden.

Randy and I served at the Baptist Church in Listowel from December 1987 to February 1998. Our boys were young - barely out of toddlerhood - when we arrived - and in high school when we moved to Cambridge. Twice (that I can remember) during those years, I do believe we entertained angels.

During an extremely difficult time in ministry there, a middle-aged man showed up at the church on a Sunday night in the summer time. He said he was in the area working for a few weeks and sought out our church for fellowship and friendship. Randy and I invited him back to our home after church and he brought treats for all of us. After the boys went to bed, he asked about our church and we opened up to him about the difficulties we were facing. We talked long into the night and he spoke words of encouragement to us and prayed for us. He spent about 6 weeks in our area - and spent most Wednesday and Sunday nights at our home for supper and then again, after the meetings. He often brought food, flowers and gifts for the boys but I’ll never forget the words of love and peace he spoke into our lives. I’ve long forgotten his name but I do know that when he left at the end of that summer, Randy tried to locate him in the city where he said he was from and the company that he said he worked for - notta - nothing - zippo - zilch! No such person. No such company. We gratefully thanked God for this man. He came to us - sent from God - at the time we needed him.

The second memory is that of a couple - a husband and wife - who showed up at our church. As I recall, this couple was somewhat downtrodden, dressed shabbily, hair uncombed, (even bad breath). We chatted with them after church and they hung around, long after the last of the regulars had gone home. Randy and I looked at each other - nodded - and we invited them home for lunch. Whatever I set out for lunch that day, they ate. And they stayed and stayed and stayed. We moved to the backyard for a bit and enjoyed iced tea while watching the boys play, chatting about this and that. And they stayed and stayed and stayed. I fed them supper and then we went to evening church. They sat near the back and at the end of the service I turned around to say good - bye to them - they were gone. We never saw them again. Who were they? Where did they come from? I believe we were Entertaining angels but that particular time - it was a test for me. I like my angels to encourage me. I like them to fit into my space. That particular time the angels were not what I was expecting.

I love the reality of Making Room. My Momma was so good at this. With our huge family of 11, you’d think my mom would have said “no” more often when we brought someone home with us…..especially when we were all home. But no - my mom would always make room for one or two or three more. I would be remiss if I didn’t add the fact that we weren’t rich…..our family lived on my dad’s salary from the Paper Mill. Mom would often tell stories about how the local grocery story would call her and tell her that the peaches (or whatever fruit) was ripe and to come and pick them up and “pay me when Stan gets paid”. It didn’t matter which fruit it was in season - mom needed to can them when they were ripe and often didn’t have the cash at hand. Grocery stores were different back in the day.

Besides the many family and friends who had meals at our table - two people come to mind who were given room at our table - who became family - friends of my brothers. These boys spent more of their time at our home than they did at their own homes. They ate most meals with us. They just showed up - and were never turned away. When Mom came to live with Harv and I in November of 2020 and stayed until her passing at the end of January, 2021 - both of these men phoned her regularly. These men - now grown - were like Mom’s children. They grieved her passing and called me later to tell of mom’s goodness and generosity to them when they were just boys. That’s truly making room.

We all love to be welcomed - don’t we? Whether it’s into “the family” - “the classroom” - “the community choir” - “the new church” - “the team” - we all want it. We want to feel part of the group. We don’t enjoy being left out.

When Randy and I moved to Everett in 2010, we had just completed a year of our sabbatical. I was a little bit gun-shy after the rough dismissal from our former church. I really didn’t want to “go back” into the pastoral ministry. I wanted to stay in Westport (where we spent a year of sabbatical) and just live there - me working at the gym and school and Randy, doing construction work with Bob, the handy man. (Randy told me he was called to pastoral ministry and would do it until he died! He did.) Thus, we moved - into a new neighbourhood and a new church family there - and both - welcomed us!

I was lonely when we moved into our new home but quickly realized that the school buses picked up the kids at 8:15 and so Randy and I became intentional of walking Maggie, our golden retriever just at that time. Quickly we became the Grampa and Gramma of our neighbourhood. Those young families welcomed us with opened arms. We met each morning at the bus stop and share life with those parents and children. The kids and Randy made up all sorts of games while waiting for the bus. Once, Randy even got one little boy’s tongue unstuck from the stop sign pole in the middle of January! (Why do kids want to lick a frozen pole?) We had street hockey games each December - we had a pig roast and bbq where over 90 people attended - we had a Labour Day picnic in our back yard every September - I was invited to hold a brand new baby (that was born at home) as Dad had to go to work and the grandparents hadn't arrived yet. Oh yes - our years in Everett were some of the best years of our lives.

The church we pastored in Alliston for those years also welcomed us! After the devastating dismissal from our previous church, Faith Community blessed us with love and acceptance and grace. Randy - especially - was built up in his character and role as pastor. In return he loved the people he was called to shepherd. Those four years (2010-2014) - four very short years - were filled with joy and fun and growth. When Randy died so suddenly in July of 2014 - our church - Faith Community - gave me Randy’s full salary for the next 8 months. Who does that? Who lovingly cares for a widow like that? Only those who are filled with God’s love and welcoming spirit.

All these years later…..I still long to Entertain Angels………still long to Make Room……and still long to Welcome anyone into our home!

FOUR YEARS

I wrote this blog just over four years ago. This week was the fourth anniversary of my Mom’s promotion to Glory - Heaven - the place she longed for near the end of her 100 years on this earth. I miss her. I miss hearing her voice. I miss her wisdom. I miss her laughter. I miss her stories. While I miss all those things - I’m 100% thankful for the mother I had and the years we had together. I’m grateful for the home she and Dad raised us kids in. I’m grateful for my heritage.

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A 100 YEAR OLD

DECEMBER 18, 2020

My mom has been with us for just over one month and it’s like she has always lived with us. We have settled into a pretty good routine. Consistency is good for 100 year olds!

My mom was diagnosed with Lewy Body disease about 8 and 1/2 years ago. (Lewy body dementia (LBD) is a disease associated with abnormal deposits of a protein called alpha-synuclein in the brain. These deposits, called Lewy bodies, affect chemicals in the brain whose changes, in turn, can lead to problems with thinking, movement, behaviour, and mood). It’s a nasty combination of dementia and Parkinson’s - the “good” thing about the dementia part is that mom knows her kids but forgets mostly everything else that has happened in the last minutes/hours/days.

Mom has settled into our home easily and loves her view of Lake Huron. She doesn’t miss a thing going by on Boiler Beach Road.

What do our days look like now?

Most mornings begin with a smoothie for mom - which I call a milkshake - because smoothie isn’t in a 100 year old’s vocabulary. I add some protein in because that’s about all mom eats for breakfast. I usually make enough for two or three days so the blender isn’t humming every morning. One morning, last week, I must have been a wee bit weary because mom’s milkshake was like none other she had ever had before. I opened the fridge - scooped some smoothie into her glass - added some milk, stirred it and stuck a straw in it. Mom took a sip - but then declined it. “No thank you” - she said, “I’m too tired for anything right now”. Funny! Mom usually downs half the glass right away. I came back a little while later and noticed the smoothie was quite lumpy and I knew something wasn’t quite right. I went back to the fridge - looked in the container and realized my mistake. I poured gravy (from our chicken dinner the night before) into the glass - mixed the gravy with milk - and asked my poor momma to drink it. I was laughing when I went back into her room to explain the wicked taste of her milkshake! We laughed together and mom quipped - “did you at least heat it up?”

Mom doesn’t love mornings! She says she had to get up early all her life when she was taking care of her large family and now is the time to rest, so mom naps and rests most of the morning. But pretty much every morning - her sweet little great grand daughter (my grand daughter) - face times with Gramma Alice!

Shortly after 9 (after the big kids have gone to school) - Indigo - calls and wants to talk with Gramma Alice. These two - what a huge blessing to listen to their conversation - Indie showing Gramma Alice her latest lego building - they even sing together - Twinkle twinkle - and - Jesus Loves Me. After the call is over, Mom doesn’t remember it but always for Indy - she’ll have memories of talking with her 100 year old great Gramma.

Mom spends about 22 - 23 hours in bed everyday. It’s a big effort to get up. Her body is frail. Her old bones hurt. The years of hard work have taken their toll, but we do our best to make her day special. We play music for her - hymns and songs she knows and loves - constantly - or I sing to her. We have watched one or two Hallmark movies and I always ask mom if she thinks the characters will fall in love! Sometimes I crawl in bed with mom and we watch a video that a family member has sent. For Christmas this year - I asked our family to send Gramma videos of themselves wishing her Christmas blessings. They are spiritual moments. I remind mom who it is and then we make a video and send it back to that family member.

We eat lunch in mom’s room with her - Mom loves little bites of fruit and cheese and soft, thin bread and always a cookie.

Each day Harv and I have two hours of “free time” when one of our lovely nurses comes to stay with mom. They are such sweet women and we are grateful for them and their personal care for mom.

I try to convince mom to get up for an hour around supper time - sometimes she does - sometimes she doesn’t. She has eaten at the dining room table with us about half of the nights she has been here and we are always pleased for her that she has made an effort. Mom loves to chat - she says “there’s nothing wrong with my tongue!”

Most evenings we watch Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy and then Mom is pretty much ready for “bed”.

Our conversations during the day revolve around “Stan the man” (my dad) - the pie she secretly made for him (and hid until dessert time) when they were newly married - her work at the mill when she was 16 - when she was the paymaster’s secretary and knew who made what - Dad’s retirement party and how the “big wigs” from Montreal came to honour him - the fact that with each pregnancy (9 of them) her friends commented “not again!” - that she was adopted and raised by her grandparents when she was two - and we listen as if hearing if for the first time!

I’m learning new things.

I’m learning to move more slowly.

I’m learning that when I rub lotion on Mom’s body - not to rub too hard. Mom’s skin is fragile - like paper.

I’m learning to eat more slowly to match the eating pace of a centenarian.

I’m learning that some things I used to do are just not that important right now.

I’m also learning that daily physical exercise is crucial to my own well being in order to care for my Mom well.

We have some great laughs!

But………..there have been some rough moments.

The tears have come easily - for both of us. Mom sometimes gets frustrated with her body that has given way to the aging process. Her legs are weak. It’s hard to walk the 15 steps to the washroom. Mom remembers when “the grass didn’t grow under her feet.” She remembers her active life as a wife and mother. Aging is hard. Her body hurts from lying down and yet it’s so much of an effort to sit up. But mostly she misses Dad and wants to go to be with him. She’s lonely for heaven.

And in those hard moments - I pray over my mom - “As your days are - so shall your strength be.” That verse has become our theme. I pray this verse over mom several times a day. I pray that verse over Harv and I as we lovingly care for mom. I remind mom that God has indeed given her this long life and He is sustaining her until the end.

“Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High - will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord - “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God , in whom I trust.”

My grandson - Luke - said “Thank God Gramma Alice has lived to be 100!”

Gramma Alice is a Rock Star to her great grandchildren.

You are right Lukie! By Gramma Alice living to 100, we her family have the opportunity to care for her - to know she is safe - to know she is clean - to know she is eating well - to know that even though she can’t remember phone calls and face time visits - she can be reminded that her family loves her.

As your days are - so shall your strength be.”

COMPLAINING

At the beginning of the year - the pastor and leadership of our church encouraged us to pray (about everything) and fast (something) for the first 21 days of January. On the first Sunday of 2025 - Pastor Adam began a sermon series called “Pray First”! What would my life look like if I did that? How would it be different? How would my responses be? What would my conversations be like? Different? The same? Prayer should be our first response not our last one!

Pastor Adam talked about firsts. The principle of the firsts!

God must be first - the centre of my life. He spoke about making this principle a reality - this year - this month - this week - this day - God first.

At the end of his message that morning - Pastor Adam - used this illustration!

Choose a different street.

Choose a different street.

#1. I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost. I am helpless. It isn't my fault. It takes forever to find a way out.

#2. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it. I fall in again. I can't believe I am in this same place. But it isn't my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.

#3. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I fall in...it's a habit...but my eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.

#4. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it. (Here it comes!)

#5. I walk down a different street.

That morning I decided to - choose a different street - regarding two things. The first one was easier for me - I had done it before but I would choose it again. I would fast sugar for 21 days. The second choice was harder - I would fast from complaining for 21 days.

It was Hannah Whitall Smith who said - “the soul that gives thanks can find comfort in everything - while the soul that complains can find comfort in nothing!”

A 2009 study on habit creation found that habits develop in a range of 21 to 254 days! There is also something called the 21/90 rule that states it takes 21 days to make a habit and 90 days to make it a permanent lifestyle change. I’ll get back to you on whether my new habits take hold after the 21 days are up!

Giving up added sugar for 21 days was not too difficult for me. I know it’s challenging to cook and bake with ingredients that don’t involve sugar but it can be done. Maple syrup is a great alternative. Sometimes those attempts flop. Sometimes I’m surprised how yummy the outcome is. Giving up sugar has also reduced the inflammation in my thumbs where I have arthritis. That’s a good thing. And it’s interesting that after the first three or four or five days - I didn’t crave sweet things. Even here at the most glorious - beautiful resort in Antigua - I don’t crave the desserts.

Be careful what comes out of your mouth.

Complaining! Now that’s a different kettle of fish.

“Do everything without complaining or arguing” - said the great missionary - Paul.

Complaints come easily! The weather. Crazy drivers. Family members. Aches and pains. Politicians. The Leafs. The refs! You name it - people complain about it. I complain about it.

It takes grace and prayer and discipline to not complain. Sometimes one doesn’t feel like it. It’s tiring. It difficult. Do it anyway.

Because of our pastor’s challenge I’ve been super conscious about not complaining………. by……being grateful……. (replacing bitterness)……..being mindful……..(replacing a quick answer or thought with a non-judgmental one)……..reflecting……(rather than haste)……….meditation and prayer…….(praying first really helps)…….telling my husband and sisters about my fast from complaining……(there is accountability here)…….focusing on joy! This habit is definitely taking more time to achieve. It’s easy to slip back. I’ll keep striving forward.

I’m walking down a different street.

Mont Serrat.

DAUGHTERS-IN-LAW

I have three. They are beautiful inside and out. They are talented. They are smart. They love my sons. They are the mothers of our grandchildren. They have mothers and fathers but they chose to be our daughters as well. They chose to take the Jolliffe name. They are our daughters-in-law.

Tracy - Jen - Heather. These are the girls that I began to pray for back in the early 80’s. When Zac arrived in ‘82 (his birthday was yesterday), Ben in ‘83 and Pete in ‘84, I began to pray for three little girls who would one day be the wives of our three sons. I didn’t know who I was praying for but I knew one day they would show up and our door - when they did - we would be ready to welcome them into our lives and into our hearts. I prayed for their parents. I prayed for their families. I prayed for their friends. I prayed that they would love Jesus more than anything else.

Tracy (married to Zac)

When Randy collapsed all those years ago, I immediately called the boys and it was Heather I talked to first. She was alarmed but calm. She assured me she would get in touch with both Zac and Ben and also my siblings. Before long all six of our children (sons and their wives) had gathered at the Newmarket Hospital and we would have seven days of praying and waiting and talking and praying and more waiting.

Jen (married to Ben)

Upon the advice of a pastor friend, all decisions we made that very long week would be in full agreement - all seven of us would be in on the discussions and decisions. What a blessing the girls were to me as talked through painful and difficult matters. How they loved Randy. It was as if their own father was lying unconscious in the bed. They shared amusing memories of their talks with Randy and wept tears of desperation and loss when we all realized Randy was not going to wake up.

Heather (married to Peter)

After Randy’s passing, it was the girls who made the arrangements with the funeral home for me. It was the kids who accepted food and flowers from neighbours and friends. It was the kids who answered the phone. How thankful I was that our girls stood strong by their husbands and supported them during the most difficult and painful time of their young lives.

They say (whoever they are) that mothers-in-lw and daughters-in-law can’t coexist. I disagree. We both love the same man. We both love the same children. If you are a mother of a son - love his wife and make her thankful you are his mom.

The following letter is borrowed from Debbie Prather.

Dear Daughter - in - law -

I love you dearly. Not just because you love our son so well but because you are wothy and loveable, just the way you are.

I love you dearly. Not just because you are the beautiful mother to our grandchildren, but because you are fearfully and wonderfully made.

I love you. Not because you’re like me, no, but because we’re as different as the individual, unique snowflakes that drift down from the sky.

I love you like I would have loved a daughter, had I had one. Not just because you married into our family but because God gave our family the phenomenal gift of you.

Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for supporting my endeavours as I support yours. Thank you for accepting me even when I say the wrong things or give too much advice. You many not know this, but I think about the error of my ways when I lie in bed at night. I want to do better and better and always do right by you.

I’m grateful that we both believe the best of each other and know that everyone is a work in progress - that it’s never a competition, but a dance, filled with kindness and grace, a dance we rejoice and participate in together. We reach our hands to the sky in praise when we get the steps right. We lift each other up with tender, forgiving spirits if we stumble or fall. Not opponents but confidants. Not at odds but in cahoots. We laugh and share and embrace who God made each of us to be.

Our sons were tiny when we started to pray for the women who would one day become their wives.)

I thank God He placed you in our son’s life. For years, you’re the person we’d prayed and dreamed for, and God came through lavishly. I see how you take care of one another. I see the sweet and thoughtful ways you surprise your husband with the things he enjoys. You champion him in his work. He does the same for you. You two make an incredible team in marriage and parenthood. You respect and admire one another, and he wants nothing more than to keep bringing you joy. What an invaluable legacy from the Lord!

I can promise this - as long as I am here - I’ll help in any way you’d like me to. I will cheer you on and assist however possible. It’s your journey and it’s a pleasure to witness. You see, as much as I care about the grandchildren’s well-being, I care about yours the same.

I listen as you navigate the tangle of emotions that define motherhood and work.

Thank you for trusting me with your cherished children. The time I get to spend with these precious ones fill my heart with delight that spills over into every square inch of me. Thank you for trusting my instincts. It means the world to me.

I pray for you. I pray for your health and your future. I pray that God gives you strength each day for the tasks He puts in front of you. My heart is filled with gratitude. May His favour and blessings be upon you for a thousand generations.

You are fabulous. You are loved. I’m so very thankful for you.

Always and forever, your grateful mother-in-law

(*I have three amazing daughters-in-law, Tracy, Jen and Heather, and for the sake of not having everything in the plural, this letter is dedicated to all three of them.)

MY FETTERLY FAMILY

Private Pliny John Fetterly

Born on 22 May 1897 in Christenville, Ontario - son of Adam Christopher Fetterly, Cornwall, Ontario - at the time of his enlistment in 1915: trade as farmer, single, no current or previous military service, Presbyterian, height of 5 feet 8 inches, chest of 38.5 inches fully expanded, ruddy complexion, brown eyes, brown hair.

Joined the 59th Battalion, CEF, on 10 June 1915 - transferred to the 38th Battalion, CEF, in Barriefield, Ontario, on 30 June 1915 (number 410946) - served with the 319188th Battalion during its period of garrison duty in Bermuda - landed in France with the 38th Battalion on 13 August 1916 - wounded on 29 October 1916 - rejoined the 38th Battalion on 6 November 1916 - struck off the strength of the 38th Battalion on 2 May 1917 - rejoined the 38th Battalion on 18 June 1918 - wounded on 2 or 3 September 1918 - invalided to England on 5 September 1918.

Fun Fact - (Cornwall Mayors - 1919-20 Adam C. Fetterly (my great grandfather) - Pliny’s father.

I didn’t know my grandfather - Pliny John Fetterly. I only met him once in my life but I wish I had had more opportunities. Pliny returned from ww1 in 1918 - married my grandmother in 1919 - they had my mom in 1920 - had a second daughter, my aunt in 1921 and then, sadly, my grandmother passed away in 1922. What’s a man to do with a toddler and an infant? Fresh home from the war. A young man with two babies? Grieving the loss of his young wife. I’m not sure of all the events which led to the adoption - but my grandfather and maternal great-parents came to the agreement that they would adopt the two little girls. I make no judgment. I can’t imagine my grandfather’s sadness. Everyone must have been in shock and dismay and grief-stricken. This was not what they ever imagined happening.

My Mom often spoke so highly of her grandparents. How she loved them. How she gave thanks for her upbringing. She didn’t ever speak unkindly about her father’s decision. Almost until the time of her last breath - she recalled her life with her grandparents - but almost her last words she spoke in this life were - “Mom? Mom? I’m coming!” My mom - who lived to 100 and a half and hadn’t seen her mother for 98 years - called out to her on her death bed. It was touching and emotional for us gathered in her room.

Psalm 68:6 - says - “God sets the lonely in families”. Two babies. No parents. Strong, loving grandparents who stepped in to raise those two little girls to become strong women.

I imagine the 1920’s and 1930’s were not the easiest to raise children. My Mom - a very young girl - would tell us stories about the depression - about the men who would show up at their back door - asking for anything - and her grandmother packing a sack of food for them. So many hungry people.

My grandfather went on to remarry in 1924 and have 6 more children.

Imagine my surprise in the spring of 2022 when I received a letter from the Ministry of the Attorney General/Office of the Public Guardian and Trustee - concerning an aunt who had passed away without a will. My first response - SPAM! But it wasn’t! My cousin had also received such a letter and we decided that she and her brother would follow through and see what was what! A year and a half would go by and not much progress happened.

Fast forward to November 2024. My cousin asked me if I would be interested in working on finding descendants from Grampa Pliny’s second family. Definitely. I was interested.

To make a long story short - thanks to Google - Facebook - Instagram - Ancestry - we have located Grampa’s second family - our Fetterly cousins. One hundred years have passed by since the Fetterly children were born and now their children have found each other. A Fetterly reunion is in the offing - hopefully for this summer.

I think it’s no mistake that my mom was raised by her grandparents. They both died before I was born but I know they both had strong faith - they loved God - they were faithful to attend the Baptist Church in Cornwall - they taught my Mom and my Aunt well and both women grew up to marry strong Christian men - both families staying in the faith that the young girls were raised in. I’m so grateful for our heritage. Psalm 127:3 says that children are a heritage from the Lord. God entrusts parents (and grandparents) with these tiny humans and gives them the responsibility of raising and training those children to know and honour Him.

I love this prayer I found about our Christian heritage - “Gracious Father, we lift our hearts in gratitude for the gift of Christian heritage. Thank you for the faith of those who walked before us, inspiring us with their unwavering trust in You. Forgive us for the times we falter and lose sight of the lessons embedded in the stories of our family. Grant us the wisdom to cultivate an environment where the stories of our Christian ancestors are not forgotten but cherished. May these stories be a source of strength, shaping the foundation of our families and communities.”

I’m grateful for Grampa Pliny. Part of him lives on in me. Strength? Fortitude? Faith? Hopefully the more I get to know my Fetterly cousins, I’ll find out more about my grandfather. I can’t wait.

LITTLE WOMEN

During the Christmas holidays, I watched LITTLE WOMEN with some of my grandchildren and daughters-in-law. It was the 1994 version. I remember the Christmas of 1994 when I put the video of LITTLE WOMEN under our tree and watched it with my own family. I read the book a number of times when I was a little girl. Watching it this year during the holidays renewed my interest in this wonderful book and all the lessons that Alcott weaves into her story.

Louisa May Alcott wrote LITTLE WOMEN loosely based on her own family and relationship with her sisters and parents. The book was first published in the late 1860’s.

Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy, and their mother, whom they call MARMEE, live in Massachusetts in genteel poverty. Having lost all his money, their father is serving as a chaplain for the Union Army in the American Civil War, far from home. The book begins with the mother and daughters facing their first Christmas without him. When Marmee asks them to give their Christmas breakfast away to an impoverished family, the girls and their mother venture into town, laden with baskets, to feed the hungry children. When they return, they discover their wealthy, elderly neighbor, Mr. Laurence, has sent over a decadent surprise dinner, to make up for their breakfast. The two families become acquainted, following these acts of kindness.

Meg and Jo must work to support the family: Meg tutors a nearby family of four children; Jo assists her aged great-aunt March, a wealthy widow living in a mansion in Plumfield. Beth, too timid for school, is content to stay at home and help with housework; and Amy is still at school. Meg is beautiful and traditional, Jo is a tomboy who writes, Beth is a peacemaker and a pianist, and Amy is an artist who longs for elegance and fine society. The sisters strive to help their family and improve their characters, as Meg is vain, Jo is hotheaded, Beth is super shy, and Amy - well she is materialistic. Laurie, Mr. Laurence's orphaned grandson, becomes close friends with the sisters, particularly the tomboyish Jo.

Alcott tells the story so eloquently about the ups and downs - the fights and squabbles - of growing up together in their home. It definitely reminds me somewhat of my home - 4 sisters but add 5 brothers into the mix. The book begins when the girls are young - between 17 and 10 or so.

I relate to this book in so many ways. The scene where Beth (sister #3) passes away rips my heart out every time I watch it. Having lost two of my brothers - Tim in 1994 and Ted in 2023 - my heart breaks over and over again. Losing one’s parents - even losing your spouse - is very different than losing one of your siblings. As I have mentioned, I grew up with 8 sisters and brothers (but mostly my brothers - as my sisters were older and gone from home when I was young) - my brothers are ensconced in my first memories - crawling into their beds to warm up in the early hours of the morning - playing simple games on the register waiting for mom and dad to wake up - my brothers walking me to and from school - my brothers watching out for me - teasing me but caring for me - letting me be one of them.

Here are 5 lessons I relearned from watching LITTLE WOMEN this past week!

#1. Be quick to forgive and even quicker to apologize.

It’s normal for family members to quarrel and even more normal to be angry at each other - but don’t waste your time being mad and resentful. Forgiveness is for our own growth. Jo March said - “life is far too short to be angry at one’s sisters.” This statement comes after a horrendous fight with her youngest sister, Amy. Amy definitely did a horrible thing. She threw Jo’s finished - only manuscript into the fire after not being invited to a party with her older sisters. When Jo comes home and finds out what Amy has done, she is furious and vows never to forgive Amy. A short time later, when Amy falls through the pond while ice skating, Jo realizes that her sister is far more important to her than her cherished book.

There was a time - a long time ago - when I had an unforgiving spirit towards one of my sisters….6 weeks…..I held onto a wee grudge and it was me who suffered most. Finally I made the call - talked it out - asked for forgiveness and promised myself that never again would I hold something against any of my siblings.

#2. Behind a strong woman……are more strong women.

I was raised by the strongest woman I ever met - my Mom - she raised 9 children (born in 1940 - 1958) and we lived solely on my dad’s salary from the paper mill. How she stretched that pay cheque to feed us all (and half the neighbourhood) is beyond me. How she coped with teenagers and babies at the same time was incredible. How she kept our house running smoothly was an example to me. It wasn’t demeaning to her - it was her source of joy. Mom lived to be 100. My older sisters have been a huge blessing and inspiration to me. Teachers and professors. Pastor’s wives. Youth leaders. My daughters-in-law! My grand-daughters! So many beautiful women have helped shape me to be the woman I am today.

#3. Live the story you want to tell.

In the movie, Aunt March felt it was her obligation to be in full control of her nieces’ lives. To this day, there are a lot of people like Aunt March who have so much to say about how others should live their lives but none about their own - telling them what they should do and what they shouldn’t do. Jo spoke for many when she stood up for herself and said that she intends to make her own way in this world.

I think the best compliment I ever received was when someone once said to me - “You aren’t like any pastor’s wife I’ve ever met.” Sometimes Pastor’s wives were put on a pedestal or into a mold and I definitely always marched to my own drummer. I wanted and still do - want to be my own person. I’m strong-willed. I work hard. I play hard. I strive to be better - lift heavier - eat more healthy - try new things - meet new people - see new things! My story is my story. Your story is your story. We don’t need to compare. We need to encourage.

#4. Love means letting go.

Loss is an integral part of life. People really don’t like change. We don’t like it when those we hold close to us die or move away or unfriend us - however the only two constants in life are - change and death. Change was inevitable in the March family. The father went to war. Money was hard to come by. The girls grew up and moved away. Beth became ill and eventually passed away from the effects of her illness.

When I was a young mother - days were long but the years were short. All too soon, the boys were off to university - starting jobs - getting married - having families of their own. To truly love my sons was letting them go - to love their wives and children first and foremost. And isn’t that what love is - putting someone else before yourself? Now our greatest joy is watching and encouraging and blessing our grown children.

It was Mother Teresa who said - “You will teach them to to fly but they will not fly your flight. You will teach them to dream but they will not dream your dream. You will teach them to live but they will not live your life. Nevertheless, in every flight, in every life, in every dream - the print of the way you taught them will remain.”

#5. Stop comparing other people’s dreams to yours.

“Just because my dreams are different from yours doesn’t make them unimportant” said Meg March to her sister, Jo. Meg was getting married and all she wanted to be was a wife and mother and Jo thought it too demeaning for her sister to settle for such a life.

We all have our separate ambitions. We all do things that make us satisfied and grateful and joyful. We mustn’t shame others because they don’t share the same dreams as we do and vice versa. Recently someone said to me that they “played pickle ball for fun - not like you”. One can play any game - any sport - for recreation but also those same sports can be played competitively as well. We must stop comparing and judging.

Okay - just one more! A bonus lesson from the movie. Giving is a greater joy than receiving. In the very first scene in the movie, the sisters sit around the fire complaining about the circumstances the family finds themselves in. Jo grumbles “Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents!” Meg puts in her two cents with - “It’s so dreadful to be poor!” But very quickly we find out that the girls spend their small amount of change on gifts for their mother - not themselves - and then also (reluctantly) take their own Christmas breakfast to a starving family who lives nearby. They were taught well.

I am a gift giver. I love sharing our home and blessings with others. I love seeing the joy on the faces of our grandchildren when they open their birthday or Christmas or “just because” presents. I love arriving at their homes with their favourite muffins and cookies and coffee. There is no greater joy for me. My heart is full.

So - grab a copy of Little Women and either read it yourself or to your children or to your grandchildren - or watch the movie. You will laugh and cry! You will want to be a part of this family. (Even you guys will enjoy it).

Above all - as we begin this new year - let’s all put into practice the lessons learned from the March family.

IT'S BEEN QUITE A YEAR - 2024

It was Hannah Whitall Smith who penned these words - The soul that gives thanks can find comfort in everything. The soul that complains can find comfort in nothing!” I have so much to be thankful for - this past year I have experienced great joy - I have experienced great grief - and through all these immense feelings - I have given thanks. It is not the effort of me alone that a spirit of gratefulness is cultivated - it is through the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. It is the love of God in us. He is the constant in my life - last year - and in the year to come.

Here is a glimpse of 2024 in a nutshell! Pictures are said to say 1000 words - 12,000 words in this essay!!!!

January

My 66th birthday in Barbados!

February

Timmins - hockey tournament!

March

Spring break in Ottawa with all ten Jolliffe grandkids

April

Celebrating my daughters-in-law at St. Anne’s - they have all turned 40

May

Ottawa marathon weekend with Ben and fam

June

Getting ready for Pete and Heather’s big move to Kincardine

July

Lake living

August

Spain - the Camino - Barcelona - Zac and Pete

September

Pickle ball getaway weekend with my friend Julie

October

Ready for Thanksgiving Dinner

November

Getaway to St. Anne’s spa with Laurie and Blaie to celebrate the guy’s birthdays

December

Singing in the Kincardine community choir concert with my friend Cathy.

I once read a story about St. Paul’s Cathedral. A man sees two workers going about their business. One man is laying bricks and is grumbling and complaining. Another man is also laying bricks but he is whistling - smiling!

The man asks the first worker “what are you doing?”

The worker shoots back “Laying bricks! What does it look like I’m doing?”

The man asks the second worker the same question.

The second worker replies “I’m building a great cathedral.”

Both men were doing the same job but only one saw the big picture.

I don’t ever want to lose sight of the big picture - loving my family and friends - serving them - bringing joy into their lives - doing it faithfully - being grateful and thankful.

Bon voyage - 2024!

AND MY WORD for 2025 IS.......

For the last number of years I’ve picked a “word for the year”. It’s kind of like a new year’s resolution but not. Last years word was JOURNEY.

2024 was certainly a journey for me - spiritually, mentally, emotionally and physically. One year ago I quoted my dad who once said to me - “Don’t just arrive at your destination - take time to enjoy the journey!” Funny that he said this as he was always in a hurry to get to the next place.

Another fabulous quote that I read early in 2024 - “And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year - Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown! He replied - ‘go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way!’” And travel with my hand in God’s hand I did and will continue to.

And so the JOURNEY began. Harv and I (physically) visited our family and friends - it seemed we were either coming or then going. Roadtrips were taken east - west - north and south. It is always brings us great joy to spend time with our siblings in their homes - with our children and grandchildren in their homes - with old friends - laughter during shared dinners - tears shed because of disappointments and losses - celebrating birthdays and anniversaries - watching hockey games and running races - judo matches and basketball and volleyball games.

The biggest highlight of the year was our trip to Spain in the summertime - to walk part of the Camino Trail. Zac, Pete and I left Toronto on July 31st and flew overnight to Porto, Portugal - where a driver met us and drove us to Sarria, Spain - where we would begin our 120 km walk. Sarria - Portomarin - Palas de Rei - Arzua - Pedrouzo - Santiago de Compostela. After completing our walk, we flew to Barcelona and toured the La Familia and Monseratt Monastary and spent some well deserved rest at the beach. It was the trip of a lifetime as we remembered the 10th anniversary of Randy’s passing into Glory. I’d like to go back to Spain someday and walk more of the Camino. Anyone want to join me?

I continued to cultivate the spiritual part of me - by getting up (often) earlier than Harv and reading a portion of the Bible - reflecting and meditating on what it says and how it applies to my life and writing in my journal. I wrote this verse in my journal last May - Luke 22:32 - “I (Jesus) have prayed for Thee”. I’m totally blown away that the Christ of the universe prays and pleads for me. He advocates for me. Consider this - Jesus said He will pray for me that my strength will not fail. Day and night He points to the wounds in His hands and feet and side and carries my name to the heavenly Father. Even before the evil one tries to get to me, Jesus stalls him and has entered a plea in heaven on my behalf. Amazing. What love. These truths bless me and cause me to lean into Him - more completely and fully. In those early hours of the day I also pray - for my kids and grandkids - for my siblings - for friends and acquaintances who have great needs, for our country and our world leaders - sometimes for someone I don’t even know but someone has asked me to pray.

My journey - emotionally - this year - has continued to cultivate gratefulness even during the hard moments. There have been some messy times. There have been strained conversations. There has also been laughter and so much joy that my heart overflows. Through it all I focus on joy and peace rather than anger and resentment. I learned a long time ago that it’s better to be thankful for what I have rather than becoming bitter for what I don’t have. I’m continuing to learn that things like - long baths, page turning novels, quiet Saturday morning, stars, oceans, Christmas lights, the sound of my grandchildren in the house, watching the hockey games with Harv, phone calls from my kids and siblings, coffee with friends - are really things that bring me much joy.

I’ve grown mentally this year too. I’ve spent time writing and reading each week. My weekly blog was a goal lasts January and here we are with only one more week to go in the old year. Pete and Heather gave me a Christmas gift last year which would see me write a chapter a week of my life journey - fifty one chapters are completed - one more to go. I’ve read a lot of books and even more poetry. I love World War Two stories. I love easy beach reads. I love autobiographies. I love to read anything by C.S. Lewis and I love to listen to podcasts to of my favourite preachers - Ben Jolliffe and Tim Keller.

Take note of this quote that I penned in my journal this year - it’s by Ralph Waldo Emerson -

Write it on your heart - that every day is the best day of the year. She is rich who owns the day and no one owns the day who allows it to be invaded with fret and anxiety. Finish every day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities, no doubt crept in. Forget them as soon as you can, tomorrow is a new day. Begin it well and serenely, with too high a spirit to be cumbered with your old nonsense. This new day is too dear - with its hopes and invitations - to waste a moment on the disappointments of yesterday.

Dad - I have enjoyed the journey this year. I took the time. I slowed down (a bit). I relaxed and was in the present. I listened more. I tried not to speak too quickly. I loved well.

And now…….the word for 2025. I’m not sure how it will all come to pass but this word has been on my heart for a number of weeks……

GATHER - so many opportunities for this word to come to fruition come to my mind - “to collect things - from different places” - “to put your arms around someone and hold and carry them in a careful and loving way” - “to become faster, stronger” - “to make a greater effort to be stronger and braver and more courageous” - “to make myself ready to do something special or difficult or challenging”.

Some similar words that come to my mind - assemble, congregate, combine, connect, merge, arrange, concentrate, join, rally, forage, understand, surmise - to name a few.

I’m excited to see how my word for 2025 plays out in my life.

Interesting - you betcha.

Challenging - always.

To quote my granddaughter - “Bring it on! I was born ready.”