SUMMERTIME

I love when the calendar flips from spring to summer. That means the kids and grandkids roll in for days at the beach - sleepovers - reading on long summer afternoons - bbq’s - outdoor pickle ball - paddle boarding - sand everywhere - flip flops in the doorway - drying towels - snacks galore - laughter - and love. It goes for about 8 weeks and then all too soon - the house empties. I won’t think about that now. I’ll enjoy these days and treasure up these memories in my heart.

“I could never in a hundred summers get tired of this!” M. J.

“Everything good - everything magical - happens between the months of June and August!” A. C.

“Summer’s lease hath all too short a date” - William Shakespeare

Annual Jolliffe camp

“Summer has a flavour like no other. Always fresh and simmered in sunshine.” O.W.

“Summer nights - even the stars are whispering to each other!” K. I.

“What good is the warmth of the summer, without the cold of winter to give sweetness.” John Steinbeck

“If a July night could talk - it would probably boast it invented romance!” B.W.

“Roll out those lazy, hazy days of summer.” Nat King Cole

“Nothing lasts forever, except the day before you start your summer vacation!” G. A.

“Keep your face to the sunshine and you will never see the shadows!” Helen Keller

COME FURTHER UP! COME FURTHER IN!

My mother-in-law was Ella Jolliffe (nee Kinsman). Ella was from Nova Scotia and bravely volunteered to serve during the second world war. Ella was a young woman when she left the confines of her home in a small town on the east coast and got on a ocean liner - crossed the “pond” and served on an air force base in northern England - recording the missions of the planes that flew to Germany. It was there she met her husband - my father-in-law - Ray Jolliffe. They married after the war in 1946.

Fast forward almost 50 years to 1995. Ella had cancer and in February of that year - she passed away. Dad and Randy and Carol (Randy’s sister) and I were with her at the end - or rather - the beginning. Mom had been in a coma for the last three days of her life but in the seconds before she took her last breath, she opened her brilliant blue eyes - reached for the ceiling - and then, breathed her last. I remember looking up at the ceiling and wishing I could see what Mom J saw. Surely the heavens opened and the angels were welcoming her Home. She instantly began her new life in Heaven.

I love the writings of C.S. Lewis, particularly, The Chronicles of Narnia. I read the whole series again a couple of summers ago - one after the other. I couldn’t put them down. I understood them better - better than when I read them as a child or when I read them to my own children. The series consists of seven fantasy novels, centred around the magical world of Narnia, where children from our world travel to a magical world and play significant roles there. All seven stories (they are not long and you can read them in a few days) speak of the ongoing conflict between good and evil - pitting the lion Aslan and the white witch against each other. Lewis writes about courage, sacrifice, redemption and the triumph of good over evil. This summer would be a great time to run to your nearest bookstore and buy the series and read them to yourself and to your children and your grandchildren.

The Magician’s Nephew begins the story of how Narnia was created by Aslan.

In The Lion, the witch and the Wardrobe - you’ll read about the Pevensie siblings (Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy) and their adventures in Narnia, where they help overthrow the white witch and become the new rulers.

In Prince Caspian - the children return to Narnia to help the Prince reclaim his throne from his evil uncle, Miraz.

In The Voyage of the Dawn Treader - Edmund and Lucy, along with their cousin, Eustace, take a magical sea voyage to the edge of the world.

I loved The Horse and His Boy! In this book we meet a boy named Shasta and a talking horse who journey from Calormen to Narnia and discover their true identities.

The Silver Chair introduces us to Jill Pole, who along with Eustace, are given the task to find Prince Caspian’s missing son, Rilian.

In The Last Battle - the final book in the series, we read about the end of Narnia and its transition to a new, heavenly realm.

The Last Battle is exciting to me. My heart resonates with joy as I read about the New Narnia. I've spent countless hours since Randy died reading and studying about Heaven. I read and reread Randy Alcorn’s book called - Heaven. Randy had read this book years before and it was like we were studying it together. He had underlined and highlighted so many sentences. In The Last Battle - Lewis gives us a glimpse of how he perceives Heaven (or the new Narnia to be).

“The difference between the old Narnia and the new Narnia is described this way! The new one was a deeper country; every rock and flower and blade of grass looked as if it meant more. I can’t describe it any better: when you get there you will know what this means!

It was the Unicorn who summed it up best - what everyone was feeling. He stamped his right fore-hoof on the ground and neighed…..and then he cried…….. I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here! This is my land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this. Bree-hee-hee! Come further up, come further in!

He shook his mane and sprang forward into a great gallop - a Unicorn’s gallop, which, in our world, would have carried him out of sight in a few minutes. But now a strange thing happened. Everyone else began to run; and they found to their astonishment, that they could keep up with him: not only the Dogs and the humans but even fat little Puzzle and short-legged Poggin the Dwarf. The air flew in their faces as if they were driving fast in a car without a windscreen. The country flew past as if they were seeing it from the windows of an express train. Faster and faster they raced, but no one got hot or tired or out of breath.”

I can only imagine!

Many of you know this part of my story but for those who don’t…….. In 1984 - while having my third son, the anesthesiologist placed the epidural in the wrong place on my spine. The freezing immediately went down but also went up - high - too high. I was instantly paralyzed from the neck down. I wasn’t breathing. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t call for help. The saddest part of this story is that the doctor and nurse had both left the room before the freezing took place and I was alone. No one was with me. No one knew I wasn’t breathing. No one knew I would die - as would my unborn baby - unless someone came to our rescue - quickly. In those moments before my own GP came into the OR - I had a few brief moments to reflect on my life. I rejoiced for the 26 years I had lived - for my husband and two small toddlers at home - for my parents and siblings - for friends and the life I was living. I thanked God for all these things. In those precious moments, I also prayed a desperate prayer - for two things - first - that God would send help immediately and second - if no help came - He would care for Randy and my two young sons at home. It was only after help arrived - after I had been put on a respirator - after my baby was born safely - after I was out of recovery - after recuperating - after being home with my three sons and husband for several months - that I finally gave thought to Heaven and had my doctor not shown up when he did - Pete and I both would have died.

“Teach us to number our days so that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” Wisdom is gained by remembering that our lives are brief and our every breath is a gift from God. The One who has numbered with absolute precision the number of stars in the universe and knows each of them by name has also numbered my breaths and the days of my life. How precious is that truth.

Like my mother-in-law - someday when it is my turn - to venture from this old “Narnia” to the new “Narnia” - let me be reaching my hand skyward also. So many of my loved ones have gathered there already - awaiting the rest of us.

COME FURTHER UP! COME FURTHER IN!

AND THAT'S A WRAP

The school year is done today! There will be shouts of joy and there will be tears of sadness - as the doors close at the end of the day and another chapter is completed. Remember Alice Cooper’s “School’s Out?” The song really doesn’t make much sense at all but it has an upbeat tune and beat and was fun to shout out on the last day of high school back in the 70”s! “No more pencils, no more books! No more teacher’s dirty looks. Out for summer, out ‘til fall - Might not come back at all! School’s out for summer!” I know you are at least humming the tune right now. :)

This week has been especially poignant for me. My oldest three grandchildren (the big three) all graduated from grade 8! These three, Sara, Levi and Talia - born oh so close together in 2011 - are heading to high school in September. These three beautiful souls - looking handsome and sweet - stood tall and proud as they received their diplomas from their principal and teachers.

Fun fact! After all three of our boys were married, Randy and I made a fun wager - the first couple to produce a grandchild would receive $1000.00! It started out as a joke but then something wonderful happened! All three couples were pregnant at the same time and even though Ben and Jen were the first to give us a grand-baby - Sara - the other two families weren’t too far behind - having their babies a couple of months later - Levi and Talia - we decided to divide the money three ways! They all received $333.33!!!!

Last fall I wrote a blog - Back To School Blessings For Our Grandchildren - God has truly blessed all of these dear ones this past school year. All the grandchildren had a great year - with the usual ups and downs of balancing school work - sports - music lessons - leisure time - youth groups - church - friends and family.

About Sara (first grandchild) - I wrote -

“Sara - heading into grade 8! Your name means “princess/woman minister”! It’s our prayer and blessing on you and for you - that you will be a spiritual mother to many and that you will speak the truth of God’s word into the lives of your family and friends throughout the coming school year. May you be strengthened to see the needs around you, have a compassionate heart willing to respond and have the humility to serve even in the secret and unglamorous ways. We pray that as God leads you and is a light to your path, you will be blessed with favour and peace. You are loved young lady!”

I woke up Tuesday morning knowing that Sara’s graduation was happening in Ottawa at 9:30 am. My heart was broken that I was not able to be there. (I hate to missing my grandchildren’s momentous occasions.) The tears came quickly. Ben and Jen sent me pictures - pictures of Sara - looking adorable in her grad dress - ready - on the edge of the next thing. Later on that same morning - more pictures arrived - Sara receiving her diploma and then receiving the principal’s award for leadership at her school. Indeed - Sara spent the last year serving her junior high school community and was recognized for her work. Congratulations.

About Levi (my first born grandson) I wrote -

“Levi Stanley - heading into grade 8 at a new school and community - you’ve got this! It’s our prayer that you will use the many skills you’ve been given to spread joy and grace to everyone you come into contact with this year - whether it’s in the classroom or on the rink or in the gym. Your name is a strong one! It means that you were ordained by God to be a hard worker. We bless you with opportunities to put your skills into practice. We pray that as God directs your steps, you will prosper and doors will be opened for you. Be blessed young man.”

Tuesday night - it was Levi’s turn. Levi - looking dapper in his suit - cool shirt and tie - high top running shoes - bright smile. This Grammie’s heart melted once again and the tears were close to the surface. What a joy to watch him walk tall and proud and take his place among his fellow graduates. He reminds me so much of his Dad and Grampie. I watched as he applauded his friends as they received awards and acknowledgements. I was thrilled when they called his name to receive the sportsmanship award. Levi is an encourager to his classmates and teammates and he is well deserving of this award. Congratulations.

About Talia (my third grandchild) - I wrote -

“Tali girl! You are also heading into grade 8 - your second year at Middle School. I love that your middle name means Rock! We bless you and pray that this year you will be steadfast, consistent and reliable - with your family and your friends. May you seek to intimately know your Creator and the Author of your story. May your story, which was ordained before you came to be, glorify Gods as you share it with others. Always remember that you are a part of the greatest story ever told. We pray that you will know your purpose which has been lovingly laid out for you. You are loved, dear girl.”

Wednesday night it was Talia’s turn. Adorable! Sweet! Excited! Friend! All of these adjectives describe Tali. The tears started once again when I saw her dressed for her graduation - I was remembering the little girl who spent many weekends with Randy and I - including the weekend of June 28th, 2014 - when Randy collapsed while running - suffering a heart attack - from which he never recovered. Talia had just turned three years old the week before. She and I had been strawberry picking on that fateful Saturday morning and upon returning to the house, found out that the police had been to our home - trying to find me. It wasn’t long after getting in touch with the Alliston Police Force that I heard the shocking and devastating news - that they had taken Randy to the Alliston hospital - waiting to be transferred to Newmarket. As Talia and I were driving from Everett into Alliston, she began to sing - “Jesus loves me this I know.” over and over again. All these memories and more came out of my heart - down my cheeks. While Talia’s school didn’t give out any awards, this year I’ve seen her mature and grow in stature and grace. She is steadfast and consistent. She is a solid friend. She is reliable. Congratulations.

The year was full of athletic games and tournaments - music concerts and recitals - Christmas concerts - art shows - track meets - cross country races - science projects - 30 bus cancellations -school trips - sick days - and plain, ordinary learning days.

I’m grateful for all the ways my kids keep me in the loop of what’s happening in the lives of the grands. I love the phone calls and texts and messages and messenger videos that I receive regularly. My heart is for these kids. They are always in my thoughts and prayers.

But……as the end of June arrives…….and I remember and reflect on Randy’s Home going……I’m reminded of God’s grace to me - His love for me - His care over me - His precious promises to me. I’m grateful for Harv and his love and care for me and my kids and grands. I’m grateful for my sisters - they love me and as their “baby” sister, only wanting the best for me. I’m thankful for my pickle ball friends - who shared my grief on Tuesday with hugs and a listening ear. I’m grateful for my “friends who live away” who text me with words of love and encouragement.

As we put a wrap on this school year - the phrase from C.S. Lewis’s book - The Horse and His Boy - comes to mind - “onward and upward!” It’s a call to action, encouraging perseverance and striving for a great future.

My prayer for these three graduates is to keep moving forward - both physically and spiritually! Embrace the challenges. Strive for higher! Study well! Eat healthy. Get 10 hours of sleep. Be kind! Know that I love you all with all my heart.

Bring on the lazy - hazy days of summer. School’s Out!

LIFE CHANGING MEDITERRANEAN LIFESTYLE

My annual doctor’s appointment in 2012 changed my life. Every year previous to 2012, I had my yearly appointment and every year I heard the same comments - “Your are doing great! Keep up the good work!” Not 2012! My doctor informed me I had high blood pressure and my cholesterol was over the top - not good - not great! I blamed the results on DNA. Most of my siblings experienced these same physical troubles and were always discussing ‘what they were taking for whatever their ailments were!’ My doctor pulled out his prescription pad and started writing me a script for meds.

Hold on! My doc and I had a wee discussion about the problems and possible solutions. I immediately scrapped the idea of going on medication and asked him about food choices to change the numbers. He told me - “Good luck! Ninety-nine out of one hundred people can’t keep to that kind of lifestyle to bring the numbers down!” Watch me! Right away - he hooked me up with a nutritionist - and at our first meeting she was quite blunt with me. She told me unless I changed my eating habits I would one day have a heart attack or a stroke! Ouch!

Over the next 12 months I would adapt the Mediterranean Diet/Lifestyle plan in my life (one year before I actually knew its name). For that whole year I didn’t put anything “unhealthy” into my mouth. I passed on cookies, cakes, ice-cream, white pasta, white bread, chips, and most cheeses. (Do you know that cheese is 34% fat?) One year later my blood showed that my cholesterol was 100% under control - I had lowered the numbers by making the best food choices - and my blood pressure was normal. I have not strayed too far from this lifestyle in 13 years.

What exactly is the Mediterranean Lifestyle? It was inspired by cultures in Greece, Spain, Italy and France and it’s an approach to cooking that emphasizes veggies, whole grains, lean protein, legumes, nuts and seeds. Fortunately we don’t have to live in Greece or Spain to enjoy this way of life - although, I’d like to try living there for a season. We have all the food we need right here in Kincardine.

Here are a few health benefits I learned along the way!

#1. My mood was in a better place. I consistently build meals around plant-based foods - eat whole grains - eliminated processed foods - choose chicken over red meat (mostly) - and dialled back on dairy. Dr. Lachance reported in the World Journal of Psychiatry “dark green vegetables are some of the most mood and energy-enhancing foods on the planet! Spinach, romaine, kale, broccoli and Brussel sprouts are all considered top antidepressant foods!” I try to include 2 - 4 servings of nuts and legumes each day - peas, walnuts, almonds, lentils etc. There are so many great choices. It’s reported - “that healthy nut and legume consumption is linked to positive mental and cognitive health. That’s because both are chock-full of brain-boosting anti-inflammatory and antioxidant components.”

The timing for beginning this lifestyle - 2012 - was perfect for me. I was in the end stages of menopause and one of my worst symptoms was mood swings. Once I eliminated bagged or boxed foods and exchanged them for all things fresh - almost all things plant based - my mood swings were no longer swinging quite so violently. :)

These good foods are a way of life. I can’t imagine of ever going back.

#2. Eating the Mediterranean lifestyle helps to stave off inflammation. I have arthritis in both of my thumbs. They are sometimes inflamed and really hurt. When I eat healthy, my thumbs are less inflamed and definitely don’t ache as much. Sugar, refined grains and saturated fat trigger an inflammatory immune response. I aim for half to two-thirds of my plate to be non-starchy veggies. I limit added sugar! (I did cut added sugar completely for four months last year. It most certainly helped reduce inflammation but I also lost weight which wasn’t a great look for me)! I read lots of labels. I don’t eat as much fish as I should but I do take an omega-3 supplement. I limit white flour. I rarely eat cookies or muffins made with white flour. I use olive oil for everything. I buy my oils and vinegars in Southampton. It might sound difficult to live this way but it’s the way our grandparents lived! Once you make this way of life a habit - it’s common place but there is nothing common about the way one’s body responds to good food.

#3. My heart is healthier. In the middle of the 20th century, heart disease surpassed pneumonia and tuberculosis as the leading cause of death for men and women in North America. Guess where there is little heart disease? Spain. Italy. Greece. Specialists in the States studied the diet patterns of these European countries, which were high in plant foods - fruits and vegetables, whole grains, legumes, nuts and seeds and olive oil. Fish, poultry, dairy, and eggs were eaten in moderation - red meat was a rare occurrence. Why would I want to eat any other way? If I feed my body the things it isn’t meant to tolerate - like processed convenient foods, my body will let me down.

#4. The first week will be the hardest - but once your body adjusts - you’ll never look back. I was teaching fitness classes back in 2012 when I started my new eating regime. About the fourth day in - I had to sit on a stool to teach my classes because my body was out of whack. Even though I thought I was eating healthy - I wasn’t. The first week - I was fatigued - I was dizzy - I was tired - I was moody - I almost stopped. But I didn’t. After the first week - things turned a corner. My body began to respond - the fatigue and tiredness went away - the moodiness and dizzy spells were eliminated - my body began to look leaner and fitter. I had the right mindset though. I would let food heal me.

#5. Food is for our enjoyment and sharing a great meal with family and friends is the best. Last summer after Zac and Pete and I completed our Camino walk in Spain, we flew from Santiago de Compostela to Barcelona for a few days to complete our holiday. I realized two things very quickly. The Spanish people have siestas every afternoon and their evening only begins around 7 and revolves around good food. After visiting Barcelona’s beaches and touristy sites, Zac and Pete had their siestas while I read. It was only around 7:30 that we would head out to a beautiful square, and find a place to have a drink. Then we would wander the square, watching the nightly entertainment and find another establishment for dinner. Now, we’re talking 9 pm. My favourite meal of all time was our last night in Barcelona. I enjoyed Paella - a traditional Spanish dish that originated in the Valencia region.

Paella is made with simple ingredients that we all have in our own kitchens - rice, saffron, vegetables, chicken or seafood. I had mine with chicken. The three of us sat around the table, enjoying our meals and talking. All around that lovely little restaurant, groups of two, three and more, were laughing, eating, talking, sharing life. No one was in a rush.

This Momma who is usually in bed around 10, was finishing her meal around 10:30 and then heading to yet another restaurant for dessert and a “nightcap” - sparkling water for me and some fancy spanish drinks for the boys.

There is nothing I enjoy more than having family and friends over for a meal and just sitting around the table, enjoying good food and conversation and laughter and sometimes - tears too. Sharing life.

The Mediterranean diet (not really a diet but a lifestyle) is consistently ranked as the healthiest eating by the world’s leading experts. I’m no expert but I wholeheartedly endorse it too.

It changed my life! It can change yours too.

THINGS I LEARNED FROM MY DAD

“Inheritance is not just money! Sometimes your father’s good reputation is enough - and wherever you go, you are told that your father was one of the best people.” (unknown)

My father had a great reputation in the town where I grew up - in eastern Ontario. My Mom used to tell us that after working at “the mill” (Domtar) for 42 years, and it was time for Dad to retire - the “big wigs” came from Montreal to honour him at the dinner.

Dad began working at Domtar in the mid 1930’s. He started on the Bull Gang - the men who do the grunt stuff all over the Mill - wherever they are sent. It wasn’t too long until he was on the machines, working his way up from the bottom and by the time he retired - he was running the biggest mill machine in Canada. The raises come gradually……as did the kids. He worked for an hourly wage initially and then eventually became staff. He was well respected at his job. He was one of the best.

In no particular order - these are things I learned from my Dad.

Faith first. My Dad took his faith seriously and along with mom, took our family to church and Sunday School each week - served on the deacon’s board - taught Bible Study - joined the Gideons (the group who distribute Bibles to hotels) - and encouraged each of us to have a personal faith as well.

Love your spouse. My parents scrapped a bit - like every other couple but us kids never - ever - doubted their love for each other. Two events stand out in my mind where I saw my Dad’s heart for Mom - the day we found out that my brother - Tim - had drowned in a canoeing accident and the day Mom fell and broke her hip. His heart was devastated for her and wanted to protect her from the emotional pain of their youngest son’s death and then, the physical pain Mom experienced with a broken hip.

Play games. Our family loved games - card games - board games - you name it - we played it. So much laughter through the years - also - lots of friendly competition (a few boards upset!)

Eat good food. My father loved to eat and also did his fair share of cooking, especially after he retired. He was appreciative always of good meals and always complemented my mom. He taught me the fine art of being appreciative when another cooks for you.

You control the things you put into your body. Dad didn’t drink alcohol - he never wanted to be under the influence of “strong drink” nor be controlled by it. . He had seen too many of his workmates at the mill drink their paycheques away - spending time away from their wives and children at the local tavern - and he wanted no part of that lifestyle.

Work hard. Whatever you do - do it well. Put in the effort. Make your superiors and peers proud of you.

Honesty. Tell the truth.

Respect those in authority. He taught us to treat others with kindness and consideration - even if you disagree.

Regarding finances. Dad taught us through his words and actions how to save and manage our money wisely. We had a desk in our front hall with slots in it and each week after Dad received his pay cheque - and cashed it out - the money went into a designated slot to pay the bills for the week. My parents didn’t go into debt. If they couldn’t afford it, they didn’t buy it.

Leading by example. My dad wasn’t about “do as I say not what I do!” I’m grateful he was a man of his word and his life followed suit.

How to hold a golf club correctly. I can hold the club correctly but never could equal his game.

How to take a fish off the hook gently without ripping its mouth.

How to care for your aged parent. He visited his mother regularly after her stroke and wept the day she died. I was 18 - it was one of the first times I’d ever seen my Dad cry.

Buy your spouse presents. He loved to surprise my Mom with gifts.

Near the end of my Dad’s life, Mom and Dad lived with Randy and I for several months. Most days after lunch while Mom rested, I would take Dad to the Cambridge mall, where we enjoyed a coffee and snack together. We would sit by the indoor rink and watch the hockey players and skaters, drink our coffee, eat our donut and he would share stories with me. We talked about this and that - his life growing up - his life as a young father (before I was born) - how he loved mom and our family. I felt blessed to care for him in those days. Dad was diabetic and for most meals and snacks we stuck to the things that were healthy for him to eat - food that kept his sugar in check. The odd day (with Mom’s permission) I would serve Dad a dish of “real” ice cream and he would lick “his chops!” It tasted so good to him.

Dad died on Monday, February 12th, 2007 around 9 pm. We knew it was coming but when I received the phone call from my sister in Kingston, my heart broke, more than a little bit. Our loss was heaven’s gain. My Dad’s faith was sight.

More than money. More than gold. More than silver. I received an inheritance of wisdom and grace and faith.

THE BLESSING

This summer I decided to give up my golf membership and replace it with a pickle ball membership. In a perfect world I would be playing pb in my own town - instead - I’m making the drive 3 or 4 times a week to Port Elgin. Port is just up the road about a half an hour. Sometimes I drive up with my friend - C - other days I make the drive myself. On the days - C and I - drive together - we enjoy delightful conversation - catching up about our family and always - talking pb strategy and gamesmanship.

On the days I drive alone I sometimes listen to a podcast but most often - I play my favourite playlist from Spotify. It’s approximately a thirty minute drive and I can get through 5 or 6 songs. Right now I’m loving Kari Jobe’s version of THE BLESSING - over and over again. The lyrics are based on the Bible verse - Numbers 6:24-26 which says “The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up His face toward you and give you peace.” I love the reminder of God’s promise to be with us and to bless us.

As I drive up Hwy 21, most days - the roof is down - the music is loud and I sing these words at the top of my lungs.

The Lord bless you and keep you! I speak each of my children’s and grandchildren’s names out loud - bless them in their jobs and bless them in their schools - bless them in the lunch rooms and bless them on the school playgrounds - keep them as they drive their cars - keep them as they ride the school bus - keep them as they walk along the sidewalk - keep them in the workroom and keep them in the classroom.

Make His face shine upon you! I continue to speak their names - singing the prayer that they will feel and know God’s presence, love and joy throughout the day - that they would know contentment and strength - the their paths would be illuminated in each part of their day.

And be gracious to you. As the music continues - so do my prayers for my family! I pray for God’s favour in their lives - favour with their bosses and teachers. God’s kindness over them and through them - God’s compassion in and through them - knowing that these things are gifts given freely rather than a reward for good deeds!

May His favour be upon you and a thousand generations - Your family and your children and their children. I feel this keenly for my family. It began with my great-grand parent’s generation - then my grandparents - next my parents - and now mine …….prayers that asks for God’s blessing to continue through the years over my family. I love the book of the Psalms - written mostly by King David - and he says “it shall be told of the Lord to the coming generation; they shall come and proclaim His righteousness to a people yet unborn!” It’s huge for me to see the faith that my great grandparents stood for and passed down to my grandmother and mother and me - continue into my children and their children. It’s powerful. It’s amazing. It’s rich. It’s worth more than anything this world can offer.

May His Presence go before you - and behind you and beside you - All around you and within you - He is for you. As a parent and grandparent, I can’t possible be in 16 places at once but God can. I love that promise.

In the morning - In the evening - In your coming and your going - In your weeping and rejoicing - He is for you - He is for you! This saves me from worry and anxiety and panic - and instead it gives peace and calm and composure. Always - each school morning - for as many days as each of our boys went to school - both elementary and high school - I gathered them by the door and prayed this prayer over them. I reminded them that in all things God was with them. Often - even during university days - I would get a call or text - asking for my prayers for a specific situation affecting one of the boys on that day. I would remind them - He is for you. I’ve seen this in my own life countless times! I’ve felt the Presence of God in my rejoicing - yes - and in my weeping - especially in my weeping. He is for me. He is for you.

It never ends. My kids and grands are ever in my mind and heart.

Sometimes after the song ends - I rewind it and play it again.

Amen and amen.

It’s worth the drive to Port! So glad I made the good decision to exchange a golf membership ro a Pickle Ball membership.

YOU CAN TAKE THE GIRL OUT OF EASTERN ONTARIO BUT YOU CAN'T TAKE EASTERN ONTARIO OUT OF THE GIRL

Last weekend I took a solo road trip to eastern Ontario with a stop in Kingston to visit two of my sisters - then out to Westport to see my brother Phil and his wife Gwen in their new home there - and finally to Ottawa, where Ben and Jen and the kids participated in the Ottawa marathon road races.

Always - when I go to Westport - my mind drifts back more than 55 years ago. What do I remember? This………………………………..

Our family first went to Devil Lake in the early 70’s when my sister, Brenda and her husband, Ken, bought a lot on the lake - about 15 minutes from the village of Westport, just up the hill from Bedford Mills. I spent several weekends at the lake every summer from the time I was 12 or 13 - with my parents and brothers. Sometimes I would go myself and hang out with Brenda and the twins (when they were babies). Ken built a small cabin for their family to sleep in - while he was building the big cottage.

Fast forward to the spring of 1980.

Randy and I had just graduated from Tyndale and we had six weeks off before we would start our summer job directing a kid’s camp near Penetang, Ontario. In the fall we would begin full time ministry as associate pastor in Orillia at First Baptist Church. We had six weeks to kill. What to do?

My parents had recently bought the cottage next to Ken and Bren’s but had not yet winterized it so Randy and I asked them if we could live in it for the six weeks. They said yes!

No plumbing.

No heat.

No running water.

We snuggled in that bare bones cottage for 6 weeks and it was some of the finest weeks I’ve ever spent. We woke when the sun came up and went to bed went it got dark. Don’t judge us but we jumped into the freezing cold May waters of Devil lake to bathe. At that time of the year there was not a soul around. We canoed that lake every morning. Hours and hours. We watched the loons building their nest. We heard their haunting cries in the night if a predator happened to come near. We tried to get close to the turtles sunning on a log. One day we counted twenty or more of them warming themselves in the sunshine. In the afternoons we sat in the warm spring sunshine on the deck but if the rains came, we hunkered down in the cottage - under warm quilts. We drank cowboy coffee. We bbq’d. We got our water from the pump at the bottom of the hill near the little white Anglican church. We made quick trips to the outhouse. During black fly week, we hardly went outside.

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

Fast forward 30 years! (2009-2010) Once again Randy and I found ourselves living in the Devil Lake area - this time - right in the village of Westport - once again living in my parent’s wee cottage. We were on sabbatical after 30 years in the local church ministry and quite frankly - our year in Westport was a year of happiness and bliss. Once again we lived simply. We hung out with friends at the coffee shop - we read book after book - I taught fitness in the basement of the Baptist church - we both ran endless numbers of kilometres around the village and countryside - training for 10kms and half marathons - Randy worked with a local handyman doing odd jobs around the village - we met new friends - and visited regularly with our eastern Ontario family.

Fast forward 4 more years to 2014…….when Randy collapsed and passed away so suddenly I told the kids that I didn’t know where to bury their Dad. We had pastored in Orillia, Listowel, Cambridge and Alliston but none of those places were permanent homes for us. As I prayed about this very important decision - it was like a light bulb went off and poof - the answer came - Westport. We had spent a year of rest there and now Randy would have his eternal rest in that quaint little villlage.

Last Friday as I drove from Kingston to Westport - I was overcome with nostalgia. I drove by the lakes where we spent endless hours canoeing with each other and our boys. I drove by the road that led to my parent’s cottage on “the hill”. After having lunch at my brother’s - I stopped at the cemetery and wandered over to my parent’s graves as well as Randy’s. It was raining so I didn’t stay long - just long enough to scrape some mildew off the grave marker - shed some tears - and carried on. It’s a beautiful spot really - overlooking the big Rideau Lake.

I drove through the town - by my parent’s home where we lived 5 years before - by the village bakery - by the Village Green - by the ice-cream store - by the gym - by the Cove Inn - by all these memories - and - once again - the memories rolled down my cheeks. But as well as shedding a few tears - my heart was also filled with such joy at the years we spent living in and visiting this dear village.

I drove up Foley Mountain (I ran up that mountain the day before we moved from Westport to Alliston) and headed to Perth (where the last fatal duel took place on June 13,1883 between Robert Lyon and John Wilson. They faced off in a romantic dispute over the affections of a teacher named Elizabeth Hughes. Lyon lost. Two years later Elizabeth married Wilson - who later became a member of Parliament). Who knew!!!!

I continued my drive to Ottawa - by the many lakes and rivers in that part of Ontario. My heart was full.

Growing up in eastern Ontario was truly the best. We camped every year at the campsites on the Long Sault parkway - picnicked at the beach - rode our bikes along the St. Lawrence River - fished - meandered along highway 2 from Cornwall to Brockville to go apple picking - swam to our hearts content in the river. My parents used to tell me that even as wee girl of two years old that the moment the car stopped in the parking lot at the beach - I was out and off and running. Someone was always assigned to watch my every movement.

After a whirlwind Saturday watching Ben and Jen and the kids run their 2 km, 5 km and 10 km races - I headed back up the 401 - towards home. As I drove west - the lakes and rocks of eastern Ontario faded behind me - as I got closer and closer to Kincardine, I enjoyed the endless fields of newly planted crops. I was listening to Spotify - and one of my favourite songs began to play…….GOODNESS OF GOD! It goes like this………………….

I love you Lord - for Your mercy never fails me. All my days, I’ve been held in Your hands. From the moment that I wake up - Until I lay my head - Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God.

All my life You have been faithful. And all my life You have been so, so good. With every breath that I am able - Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God.

I love Your voice - You have led me through the fire. In the darkest night - You are close like no other. I’ve known You as a Father - I’ve known You as a Friend - And I have lived in the goodness of God.

All my life You have been faithful. And all my life You have been so, so good. With every breath that I am able - Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God.

‘Cause Your goodness is running after, it’s running after me. With my life laid down - I’m surrendered now - I give You everything - ‘Cause Your goodness is running after - it’s running after me.

I drove in our driveway and Harv was out of the house in a moment - welcoming me home. Home! My Mom used to say - Home is where you hang your hat! So…..while a piece of my heart will always be in Eastern Ontario - the rest of my heart is right here - in Kincardine.

THANK YOU FOR THE MUSIC

I absolutely love the ABBA song - Thank You For The Music. I know you know it too. I can hear you humming it right now……………….

“I’m nothing special, in fact I’m a bit of a bore. If I tell a joke, you’ve probably heard it before. But I have a talent, a wonderful thing - Cause everyone listens when I start to sing - I’m so grateful and proud - All I want is to sing it out loud!

So I say - thank you for the music, the songs I’m singing. Thanks for all the joy they’re bringing. Who can live without it? I ask in all honesty - what would life be? Without a song or a dance, what are we? So I say - thank you for the music, for giving it to me.

Mother says I was a dancer before I could walk. She says, I began to sing long before I could talk. And I’ve often wondered, how did it all start - Who found out that nothing can capture a heart - like a melody can? Well, whoever it was - I’m a fan.

I’ve been so lucky - I’m the girl with golden hair - I wanna sing it out to everybody- What a joy - what a life - what a chance!

Thank you for the music - the songs I’m singing. Thanks for all the joy they’re bringing. Who can live without it? I ask in all honesty - what would life be? Without a song or a dance, what are we? So I say - thank you for the music - for giving it to me.”

I started taking piano lessons when I was seven years old. My first teacher was Mrs. Gardner. She taught me the discipline of regular practice - technique first and then my pieces and that discipline served me well for the next several years. I got up early each weekday morning - and practiced before I went to school - five days a week. (It drove my brothers crazy). My second teacher was a nun - Sister Robiard - and Sister was my teacher through grades 4 - 8. She had two pianos in her studio and we often played the same piece at the same time. She knew every song in every book. She was a living - walking - playing metronome. I loved her. I had my grade 8 piano by the time I finished elementary school and her encouragement was the main reason.

My Gramma Castle was also a huge influence in my life musically. She loved to play and sing and every time she came to our home - you’d find us both on the piano bench - pounding out British songs and our favourite hymns. My Gramma played and sang loud and proud and so do I! Oh, how I loved her. Gramma had a stroke when I was eleven and passed away seven years later. I think of her often when I play and sing. I’m grateful for how “instrumental” she was in my life musically and spiritually.

I started teaching piano and voice lessons when our boys were preschoolers. It was my joy to teach hundreds of students for the next 35 years. When the boys were 7, 8 and 9 - I decided I wanted to pursue more lessons. My goal was to achieve the grade 9 standard from the Toronto Conservatory - both the practical and theory. I asked a friend - who was an accomplished musician in Listowel and she became my third teacher. She inspired me as she taught. I practiced with the mute pedal down in the evenings after the boys were in bed and asleep. I rehearsed my grade nine repertoire and technical requirement for 18 months until I was finally ready to take the exam. I hadn’t taken a piano exam for about 15 years. I was nervous but ready and well prepared.

I told the following story to a friend just this past week about that grade 9 exam.

I arrived at the exam centre in Kitchener - full of confidence - but it wasn’t too long before the examiner made me feel extremely uncomfortable and nervous by his attitude and words. My fingers shook from the beginning and I struggled through the technique - I made mistakes in my pieces that I carefully memorized and my ear tests were not much better. I held in the tears until I exited the exam room and got in the car with Randy. I was disappointed and frustrated and angry. I phoned my teacher when I got home and shared what had happened. My teacher heard from other students that they had experienced the same thing and reported the examiner’s antics to the Conservatory at the University of Toronto. Later I heard they had let the examiner “go”. I did pass - but barely. I loved the theory and history courses that accompanied acquiring grade 9 - and excelled on those written exams. I began working on grade 10 piano but about 6 months into my preparation, my mother-in-law was diagnosed with cancer and Randy and I spent many days driving back and forth from Listowel to Burlington. My practicing evenings were few and farther between. After several months, my sweet “mil” passed away and I never did get back to those pieces. Grade 10 was permanently put out to sea.

Besides piano - I loved to sing. I sang in choirs at school and church - and it wasn’t long before I started singing solos. In elementary school I played Mary one year in the Christmas concert and a few years later, played Mrs. Santa. Both parts called for vocal solos. I sang solos often at church and in the Kiwanis festival. In my teen years I was asked to sing for several weddings. I never did take formal singing lessons - my voice - my mom said - was “God-given”. I studied voice on my own and soon, parents asked me to teach their children how to sing.

One of my best memories of teaching vocal students was while I was working at the Christian school in Guelph. I was introduced to a young girl who had a noticeable stutter while speaking but I quickly learned that when she was singing, the stutter disappeared. As the music teacher at the school, it was responsibility to choose the program for the Christmas concert. That particular year I asked my young vocal student if she would like to sing a solo at the program. She said yes and she managed to keep that fact a secret from her parents. We rehearsed and she was perfectly ready for the big night. That evening was magical and unforgettable for my student, her parents and for me. The lights in the audience were low - and the spot light shone on that young girl. She sang perfectly. After the evening came to a close, her parents rushed to hug their daughter and me too. It was a wonderful night that I’m sure they never forgot. I know I haven’t.

I’m delighted that most of my grandchildren have taken piano lessons and have sung or still sing in their school choirs. Some have participated in music and drama camps in the summer time. Last week I was delighted to attend THE NATIONALS - MUSIC FEST CANADA - where my grand-daughter - Sara - participated in two events. Her Ottawa school qualified to attend the prestigious event - in band and their jazz choir. While I certainly enjoyed the band’s performance, it was the jazz choir I was most interested in. Sara was the accompanist for the choir. They performed three songs and Sara played to perfection - she was as cool as a cucumber - ice in her veins. It’s not an easy task to accompany a choir or small group or a soloist. I cried. It was a proud moment for the two grandmothers and auntie and cousin who went to hear Sara perform.

My Mom used to tell me - that as a little girl I sang all day long - at home, walking along the side walk, in the car - everywhere. When I went away to college and then got married, Mom also used to tell me that when I left home, so did the music. She told me that the house was too quiet - the piano didn’t get played - songs didn’t get sung - too quiet.

In the weeks before Mom passed away, we played the old familiar hymns for her all day long. Often I would crawl in her bed with her and sing to her. She was very weak but always her lips were moving and her toe was tapping in time to the music. What comfort the words of those hymns were to us. What peace they brought to Mom in her last earthly days. What a great reminder of the promises of heaven.

As ABBA wrote - I’m grateful for the music - I’m grateful for the joy music has brought me all my life thus far - really who can live without music?

CHOICES

I CHOOSE WHAT I SOW. I CHOOSE WHAT I PLANT. I CHOOSE WHAT TO CULTIVATE. I CHOOSE WHAT TO WEED OUT.

I have never been a great gardener but my Mom was. Her gardens were the talk of the neighbourhood. She planted her perennials so that something was always in bloom - right from early spring until late fall. Mom knew the names of all her plants - as if they were her children - and she spent countless hours in her gardens - pulling weeds - moving plants around - making sure the shade plants weren’t in the sun and the sun plants weren’t in the shade. She knew how and when to split the plans and she knew when a plant had run its course.

I do love gardening and in the spring I eagerly await the daffodils and tulips to pop out of the ground. I love their brilliant colours but I don’t like the part where you have to wait to chop off their stems. I love watching for the perennials to flourish but unlike my Momma - I can’t remember their names. And then - things get busy - I’m playing pickle ball - or cycling - or walking with a friend or golfing with Harv - and a few weeks have passed without being in the garden. I’ve neglected things and weeds have sprung up everywhere.

I have to spend hours at a time pulling those weeds and in every direction that I look, there are more and more and more weeds. So often I wish I had spent a little bit of time each day tending my garden rather than neglecting it for weeks and then having to do it all at once. Balance is the key. I wish I had tended the plants and kept them safe from the intruders.

There is an obscure verse found in the Old Testament - written by a man named - Hosea - a prophet who called a spade a spade - so to speak. It says - “Break up your fallow (unplowed) ground - for it is time to seek the Lord - until He comes and showers righteousness on you.” The word - fallow - comes from the old English word for plowing - and refers to the practice of leaving fields unplowed for a period of time. When a field is unplowed, the soil is left alone to rest and regenerate but when left in this condition, it often becomes overgrown with thistles and weeds. The farmer should be careful to “break up” the fallow ground - to clear the field of weeds before sewing seed in it once again. This speaks right to my heart. Action on my part is required.

I choose to take the seeds of truth and sow them into the soil of right living into my life.

First things first - breaking up the unplowed ground. Not literally - but in my life. I need to address certain areas of my life. I need to break up the ugly areas. I need to get rid of some blockages that are hindering me. Things like - ingratitude - pride - envy - hypocrisy - a critical spirit - impatience. I know - all too well - the weedy things that intrude in my heart and seek to choke me. I am impatient. I don’t like it when people are late. I don’t like being held up in traffic. I don’t like it when others who are playing ahead of me on the golf course are slow. I don’t like getting behind a car in the drive-through line when I’m only ordering a coffee and their van is ordering for 7 people. Notice that all of the previous statements start with “I don’t like?” It’s selfish of me.

I must learn more about grace and understanding and then put those truths into practice in my life. If you have a good friend or sibling or spouse or partner who will be honest with you and if you are strong enough to listen - ask them what things in your life are needing “fallowing”. You probably know those things already but it’s easier to ignore them rather than dealing with them. It’s easier to cast the blame on someone or something else rather than making changes in one’s own life.

Secondly - seek the Lord! I could never, no never, survive this life without my faith. My journey has always been an adventure with God guiding me through hills and valleys - through the ups and the downs - through marriage and parenthood - now grand-parenting and my “golden years”!

In the summer of 2015, one year after Randy passed away, I was eagerly seeking for the next thing in my life. I was 57 years old, a widow, wondering and praying about my future. I didn’t want to go ahead of the Lord but I also didn’t want to lag behind. I was teaching piano and voice lessons and fitness classes but I also thought I should do something with a steady pay cheque. I applied for some ministry positions but nothing came to be. I considered buying a B&B in eastern Ontario as I love people and food and I thought that combo would be great. But once again - there were stop signs so I didn’t proceed with this option. My Mom counselled me to wait and pray.

Waiting is not stagnant. Waiting involves action. Lots of seeking God’s Word - the Bible - lots of praying and lots of counsel. Very soon after this period of waiting and seeking - at just the right time - God used mutual friends to introduce Harv and I - and - six months after we first started dating - we got married. What a gift Harv is to me. What a gift to have a second opportunity for marriage.

It is God who brings about the fruit of the Spirit in my life - I could never produce them on my own. It doesn’t come natural to be filled with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control.

Thirdly - righteousness will be showered on me! This little verse that Hosea wrote thousands of years ago - comes with a promise. When I break up the unplowed ground - when I seek the Lord’s help - then and only then - will the heavens open and righteousness will be showered on me - and on you too. What joy! What peace! What comfort! It’s there for the taking.

Mother Teresa wrote -

“People are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centred - forgive them anyway. If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives - be kind anyway. If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies - succeed anyway. If you are honest and open, people may cheat you - be honest and open anyway. What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight - build anyway. If you feel serenity and happiness, people may be jealous - be happy anyway. The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow - do good anyway. Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough - give it anyway. You see in the final analysis it is between you and God - it was never between you and them anyway.

IT ALL BEGINS WITH A CHOICE. CHOOSE WISELY.

MY THREE SONS

On December 19, 2014, two of my sons stood shoulder to shoulder, in front of a group of mourners at their grandfather’s funeral to eulogize him - just five months after standing together at their own Dad’s Service of Remembrance. Two sons that morning and the third son far away in Moosonee, waiting with his pregnant wife for their new baby to arrive. Zac, Ben and Pete - speaking and sharing on behalf of our family - doing something that young sons aught not to have to do so soon. Strong sons. Strong grandsons. Loving sons. Loving grandsons.

A long time ago - 44 years coming - Randy and I spent the Christmas season waiting for our first born to arrive. He arrived almost two weeks passed his due date on January 15th. It was a long labour and after almost thirty hours the doctor decided that a C-section would be performed. It wasn’t too much longer before I heard the cries of our firstborn son. Randy and I were young! Really children ourselves. We were excited and delighted. We were inexperienced and made our fair share of mistakes but Zac survived and thrived.

Not too many months later we discovered that baby #2 was on the way. We were on our way north to Red Lake to visit my brother, Tim and his family and we stopped at a road side truck stop on hwy 17 for coffee and treats. I changed Zac, now 8 months old and fed him - enjoying holding him during the long car ride north. Randy arrived back at the car with muffins and coffee - but they smelled like cigarettes smoke and I promptly opened the car door and threw up. All that vacation in the north I woke with the familiar signs of morning sickness and fatigue. Yup - I was pregnant. Our sweet Ben arrived early the next spring and we had two darling boys - not quite 15 months apart.

We were a busy, young family. Randy was the assistant pastor at our church and I was at home taking care of our two little men. Two in diapers. Two growing little bodies to love and feed and teach. Christmas time that year we were entertaining both sets of parents and I was super tired all the time. I wasn’t sure what was wrong. Turns out - nothing was wrong. Everything was very right! Baby #3 was on the way. Pete was born in August - 16 months after Ben. Three sons in just under three years.

People used to say the strangest things! “Wow! You really had your kids close together!” As if I didn’t know this. How about this one!!! “Too bad you didn’t get at least one girl!” Really????? Or this! “It’s a good thing you stopped at three!” That’s none of anyone else’s business - how many or how close - your children are. Randy and I were thrilled to have three sons and absolutely loved having them close together.

The boys were always together. When there was no one else around - there was always at least one brother home to play with. When we went camping - there was always someone to build that giant sandcastle with - play “steal” on the beach and volleyball in the water. Three kids playing on the same baseball team is always a win. The boys were a grade apart in school - sometimes two in the same class. Not a problem. They played hard together and yes - sometimes (even a lot of the time) fought hard with each other. They are brothers.

I am so thankful for the values and truths that Randy and I taught our sons - truths passed down from my parents and Randy’s parents. We taught our boys that their relationship with God is the most important relationship they’ll ever have. We taught them to respect their elders - grandparents, teachers, friends. We taught them how to put a worm on a line and then how to take a fish off the hook without hurting it. We prepared them for a relationship with their future wives - how to treat them - how to love them - how to live with them. We taught them how to be a fair and loving parent to possible children. We taught them to be honest at school and in their jobs - how to be a reliable employee. We taught them to be faithful in the small things. We taught them how to cheer for the Leafs and Blue Jays and Raptors. We showed them how to deal with disappointment. We taught them to be men.

This will be my 43rd mother’s day. Being a wife and mother is all I ever desired. My dreams and prayers were answered in such a big way.

We instilled the basics - God is God and what He says is truth. I didn’t care if the whole world disagreed - you either put your trust in God or man. I’ll always choose God. He made us and knows us and always holds us in His Hand. Good works begin in the home. Who you are at home is who you are. Train a child’s character by teaching them to do good to their siblings and parents. Selfishness brings misery. Demanding one’s own way, walking over their siblings, hurting others with your tongue or fists, ultimately brings misery - for the one being selfish and everyone else in the house. Faithfulness is huge. Actions speak louder than words. Words are cheap and meaningless if you don’t live it out. Be responsible. Take care of the tasks that are asked of you. If it’s not nice, don’t say it. Words should edify and build up, not break apart. Your words reveal your heart condition. “Out of the heart the mouth speaks.”Enjoy being at home. We played lots of games - went for hikes - went cycling - swimming - played outside as much as possible - read the classics together - enjoyed music - watched the Leafs and the Blue Jays! Grandparent time! Our boys spent 17 summers visiting my parents at the cottage - a week or two enjoying the hot summer days - canoeing - swimming - fishing - catching frogs - eating and sleeping. Likewise before Randy’s mom passed away - the boys each spent three or four days - solo - at their grandparents in Burlington - mini golfing - going to the movies - watching air shows - baseball games - eating and sleeping! The best of both worlds - the lake and the city.

These sons of mine are now husbands and dads. I’m super proud of them.

It went by so fast.

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.

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.