TRUST THE DETOUR

“Perhaps some detours aren’t detours at all. Perhaps they are actually the path”. (Katherine Wolf)

I’ve been thinking a lot about my sister, Sue, this week. You see - today she turns 80! Her “fourscore” has arrived. She was born right at the end of the second world war - the third child to our parents - six more children would complete our family over the next 13 years - me - being the last! Being the youngest in our great big family - I’ve watched the lives of my siblings unfold - I’ve watched their comings and goings - their ups and downs - their gains and losses - their joys and sorrows - their straight and narrows - their wide detours. I’ve had the benefit to learn and grow with them and because of them.

Sue and Harry and their family have lived great adventures. In their early days of marriage - they worked at private colleges - where Harry taught and Susan nursed. Later, Harry pursued his calling into the local church ministry and that path led them to the Parry Sound area. Harry pastored and Sue continued in her nursing career in a doctor’s office. For twenty - five years +, Sue was a beacon of strength to her patients - exhibiting kindness and grace and love. (Fun fact! Sue worked for a doctor - D.C. - who is the father of my daughter-in-law, Jen. Her dad quoted at the time when Jen told her parents she was newly dating - “any nephew of Susan Kleinhuis must be a good man!” Thanks Sue)

Harry and Sue were expecting their second child in the summer of ‘69 - living near Edmonton, Alberta. Dad and Mom told us kids (Phil, Tim and I) - pack your bags! We’re driving west this summer. What an adventure. What a long car ride. I spent most of it lying on the back window ledge - staring at the great, big sky. (No seatbelts in those days). We left Cornwall on a beautiful - summer July morning - and drove to Sault Saint Marie - where we camped at Pancake Bay on Lake Superior. The rain started before the campfire was out - and rain it did - hard - all night - everything was soaking wet. The next morning I remember sitting in the car while Dad and Mom packed up the tent trailer - because that’s what parents do. We were off for Day Two. We had driven north for about an hour or two (in the driving rain) when the traffic came to an abrupt stop. Nothing was moving. And then - we saw that cars were turning around and heading south. The culprit - a washed out bridge. No one would be moving north that day nor for several weeks until that bridge was repaired. Dad turned the car and tent trailer around and back to the “Sault” we went - crossed the bridge to the USA and travelled west that way.

My first detour in life. I watched my parents take the change of plans in hand - perhaps frustrated at first - but then - taking it all with great grace - restraint and acceptance. A lesson that I needed to learn early in life because I would certainly face my own detours in the years to come.

Many, many years later - after graduating from Seminary (both Randy and I finished our undergraduate degrees in 1980) - after pastoring in our first church for almost eight years - after the birth of our three sons - after pastoring our second church for eleven years - we would soon receive a call from a church in Cambridge to begin our ministry there. We moved our three teen-aged sons to this new location - fully expecting to have a long, wonderful experience.

(Caution - Detour Ahead!)

Fifteen months later - we were voted out - let go - fired! It seemed like a bad dream. A nightmare really. We weren’t wanted. The church was dumping us. To this day - the reasons seem so lame. None - the - less - the church called a “confidence vote” and we didn’t get the necessary percentage to continue. (Not that we have wanted to with only 60 % of the church in our corner). Our sons were in grade 9, 10 and 11 at the time and they were rockstars through this whole experience. The kids were so supportive to us. Our friends and family stood with us. Detour. Not what we expected. Not what we wanted. Not what we had planned. My only prayer at the time was for our boys! How I prayed they would not be disillusioned with the local church. I loved the church - I still do. It has stood strong and firm for 2,000 years and continues to today. It’s just that - sometimes people get in the way of things that are really good. That detour led to another opportunity for ministry in the same city - where we prospered - where we encouraged men and women and children - where our sons thrived - and we grew in grace and wisdom and forgiveness.

“God is more interested in your development than your arrival. He cares more for your character than your comfort - your purity than your productivity.” (Dr. Tony Evans)

I absolutely love a particular story in the Bible - it’s found in John 4. Jesus and His disciples were on their way back to Galilee and it’s reported that Jesus took a major detour. "Now He had to go through Samaria”. Most everyone at that time knew that “respectable people” avoided Samaria. It was a rough area - the “other side of the tracks” kind of place - but someone was waiting there - someone who needed the Saviour’s touch - someone who needed to hear about “the living water” - someone who lived a life of shame - a life where others avoided her - she needed someone to be nice to her - and it would be Jesus. That detour led to a changed life. For the Woman at the Well - what first appeared to be a detour by Jesus, was indeed the most enriching experience of her life. She was forever changed.

In the last ten days or so - a detour has come my way. Mostly everyone who knows me - knows my passion is pickle ball - but you can’t play pickle ball if you have a “knife” sticking in your knee - at least that’s what it feels like. So I’m taking some time off! I’m on the couch - icing - resting - physio - trying to heal. I’m hoping and trusting this detour doesn’t last too long! I miss my pb friends. I miss the activity. I miss the adrenaline rush. But - I’m embracing this time - with grace and patience. I will heal.

Where I am today is no accident. God is using the situation I’m in right now to shape me and to prepare me for the place He wants to bring into tomorrow. I must trust Him with the plan.

My Dad once told me - “Martha - enjoy the journey - including the detours - just to arrive at the destination!” I hear you loud and clear - Dad! I’m listening. I know there is a lesson in here somewhere and I don’t want to miss it.

SAY IT NOW

“What if the people that mattered to you, the people you love and are grateful for, what if they are gone tomorrow? There is no benefit in waiting. This is your moment, so say it now.” 

I was listening to a podcast recently with Dr. Peter Attia (one of my favourite podcasters) who was discussing the impact of gratitude - serving others - embracing mortality and living intentionally. His guest was - Walter Green - author of the “Say It Now” movement. Walter spoke of his challenging childhood - discussed the impact that his father’s death at the age of 53 made on him - and how he was embracing mortality with a desire to finish strong. His movement shares insights on how to live intentionally - how to prioritize relationships - and - how to focus on others.

On the podcast - Green spoke of his year-long journey - mostly throughout the States but also other parts of the world - to visit 44 people who had significantly impacted his life. He talked about a time a friend asked him to organize a “celebration of life” after his passing. Green declined - and instead - convinced his friend to have a “living tribute” before he passed. The friend’s nearest and dearest gathered to celebrate how much he’d meant in their lives.

In 1922 - Green - formally launched the Say It Now movement.

Why do we wait to tell someone how much they mean to us? Why do we delay sharing words that can uplift another person? Why do we miss opportunities to enrich the lives of others? Why do we live we regrets?

Green encourages his listeners to break the cycle of postponement and to take action - by writing a letter - making a phone call - or meeting face to face. He wants us to create a cycle of intention and acknowledgement. He wants us to think and reflect on those who have helped us along the way - those who’ve made a difference in our lives!

Don’t assume you have time.

After listening to this podcast - I’ve been thinking of several people who have impacted my life and I’ve never taken the time to tell them. So…………here we go!

My high school math teacher - Mr. Marc S. Thank you for your encouragement through a very difficult grade 13 Functions class. I had already dropped Calculus and desperately wanted to drop the Functions class but you asked me to come in at lunchtime so you could tutor me - to explain things - over and over again. Thank you for not treating me like the dummy I was. Thank you for speaking to me in language that I could understand. Thank you for the many discussions we had besides math - conversations about religion - family - post secondary education - sports - politics - and the meaning of life. Thank you that you listened to and encouraged a young woman’s idealistic chatter and prattle and never once belittled me. You meant the world to me. I remember visiting you years later - you had moved on from teaching and were working for the school board. I arrived unannounced at your office - with my three wee sons - and you stopped what you were doing to catch up with me! You interacted with my boys and let them roam around in your office. You didn’t speak down to me for choosing motherhood over a career. Thank you. It was a fine hour together. By now - you will be older and grayer! I hope you are well and living out your life to the fullest.

Next………Mr. Ralph M…………..the organist and choir director at the church our family attended when I was a child. Thank you for instilling me the love of music at such a young age. I used to look up at the choir loft from my seat in the congregation and long for the day when I could join - when I could wear the white gown with the purple collar. You had to be in grade three to be in the junior choir. I could hardly wait. I learned so much from you. I learned to breathe in the right places - where the commas were - not in the middle of a two syllable word - how to sing in harmony - how to add dynamics to the music - but most important - how to tell the story I was singing so that my listeners would be drawn in. Thank you for giving me opportunities to sing solos and duets. Thank you for teaching me to love the old Hymns - to understand the theology that made these songs so strong and believable. I remember the year you organized a cantata for the teens and young adults in our church. It was amazing and we even “took it on the road”. I still remember the lyrics to some of those songs. You didn’t know it at the time - but you were the reason I became a music teacher of both voice and piano. You were the reason I led Christmas concerts at the churches I attended and the schools I taught at. You were the reason I still sing the hymns and songs I learned as a child. I’m sorry I never had the chance to tell you. You are long gone now - already in heaven - someday when I see you - I will tell you these things and more.

Another one………..Marie C………..friend and mentor when I was a young mom. Hi Marie. I want to thank you for taking me under your wing when I was a young mother with 3 little boys. You were a few years older and wiser and had parented for a number of years already. Thank you for spending time with me and my sons. Thank you for all the wonderful suppers you cooked for us to enjoy in your beautiful home. Thank you for taking my two older kids when my youngest was born - so I could enjoy quiet times with my newborn and get some much needed sleep. Thank you - because you were generous and caring - for taking me shopping every few months to help with my very pitiful wardrobe. You wanted me to “look” the part of a pastor’s wife and knew I couldn’t afford to shop on our salary. I’ll never forget that beautiful blue dress you purchased for me and those gorgeous heels - I felt amazing in that outfit and wore it for years. Thank you for opening up your home to us for two weeks when we visited you in California. You said “come” and that we did…….all five of us for our vacation. We laughed and cried and shared the stories after being apart for a few years. That vacation to LA is forever cemented in my brain. Thank you for sending a lovely card when Randy passed away. What a great blessing you were to me. You shared at that time that your life was in a good place - I trust it still is.

One more……….my brother - Tim…………You were three years - my senior. I never knew a time you weren’t in my life. You were my hero. You were my playmate. You were my sounding board. You’ve been gone for 31 years. Your death was such a shock to our family. It was so unexpected. We grieved and mourned for so long. I never had the chance to say how much I loved you and how thankful I was for you in my life. Thank you for walking to school with me when you could have raced ahead to be with your friends. Thank you for encouraging me to join the badminton club - even though I was the youngest of the neighbourhood group - you wanted me there too. Thank you for inviting me to go running with you and your friends. Thank you for cheering me when I was playing high school sports. I knew you were in the crowd of supporters. Thank you for being a groomsman at my first wedding. You stood - proud - in the row of groomsmen - supporting Randy on our wedding day. Thank you for coming all the way south from Red Lake (even though you did forget to get my honeymoon luggage out of your trunk and into Randy’s trunk.) Thank you for the visits you made to our home after we were both married with kids and also opening your home to us for summer vacations. We had so much fun together. Two young couples - with littles all around. I watched you - as you loved Lorraine - as you loved Scott and Jillian - as you worked hard in the north - as you visited Mom and Dad as often as you could - as you took a leadership role in your church and northern community - I watched and admired you. I never told you and you’ve been gone for so long. I look forward to the day we are reunited. Love you so much big Bro.

I’m so thankful that on the morning over 11 years ago - the morning Randy collapsed while running and never regained consciousness - that we hadn’t left anything unsaid. We were pretty prompt at talking through disagreements and working things out. We had regular chats about our marriage - where we were at - how each of us was doing. I’m forever grateful. No regrets. Nothing left unsaid.

Randy and I both loved Asian Food and at one particular restaurant in Alliston they gave out candies - the ones that were wrapped in green cellophane. Both of us always took the candies (even though we didn’t like them) and then hid them around the house for the other to find. In the underwear drawer! In the tool box! In amongst my makeup! They always showed up. Imagine my surprise months after Randy’s passing to find one of those cellophane wrapped candies in the toe of my winter boot. I laughed and cried all at the same time. It was our game. It was our love language. It was who we were. Even after Randy was in heaven - he was saying it!

SAY IT NOW. Your peeps need to hear your words of love - of thanksgiving - of gratefulness. They need to hear why they were instrumental in your life - how they helped you become who you are today.

Don’t delay. Tomorrow isn’t promised.

THE NICENE CREED

The purpose of a creed is to provide a doctrinal statement of correct belief among Christians amid controversy. The original Nicene Creed was first adopted at the First Council of Nicaea in 325. A group of theologians and scholars met and 218 words later - a succinct definition of Christianity was put on paper and has been recited ever since - in churches - cathedrals and homes - all around the world.

I find it interesting that for the 1700 years since the Nicene Creed was penned - mankind still struggles to define what they believe about God. According to C.S. Lewis - people usually fall into three categories concerning their belief in God - “People think that Jesus is either a liar - a lunatic - or Lord!” Sometimes I’m asked what I believe - why I believe - why God is such an important part of my life. Sometimes people think I’m crazy. Sometimes they want to hear more. Sometimes they want God part of their life too. Perhaps you grew up - reciting this creed or a creed like it - in the church you attended.

For the past ten weeks the Pastors at my church have taken the Creed - broken it down - explained it - recited it - and sought to instil the truths of it in our hearts and minds. I have not done a study on this creed or any other creed for a very long time and each week - I eagerly anticipated the upcoming section that would be studied.

We believe in one God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible.

And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only Son of God. Light from Light. True God from true God, begotten, not made; of the same essence as the Father. Through Him all things were made. For us and for our salvation He came down from heaven; He became incarnate by the Holy Spirit and the virgin Mary - was made human. He was crucified for us under Pontius Pilate. He suffered and was buried. The third day He rose again, according to the Scriptures. He ascended to heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again with glory to judge the living and the dead. His Kingdom will never end.

And we believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life. He proceeds from the Father and the Son. And, with the Father and the Son is worshipped and glorified. He spoke through the prophets.

We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic church. We affirm one baptism for the forgiveness of sins. We look forward to the resurrection of the dead and to life in the world to come. Amen.

I love to take notes when the Pastor is preaching - so the following are some of my favourite quotes form the last ten weeks.

Be grounded in the truth not emotion.

My truth affects my behaviour.

What you believe determines how you live.

Everything is created on purpose and with purpose.

If you stand for nothing - you’ll fall for anything.

Christ is either the Creator or the created! What I believe determines how I live.

Jesus is not made by God but God made known.

I stand between the Resurrection and the Return.

Live today as if it’s my last day.

Baptism isn’t a confession of perfection. It’s a confession of redemption.

My story doesn’t end in the grave.

Augustine - “You have made us for yourself O Lord - our hearts are restless until they rest in You.”

C.S. Lewis - “ The Son of God became a man to enable men to become sons of God.”

Athanasius - “Christ became what we are so that He might make us what He is.”

Resurrection tells us death doesn’t win. Renewal tells us brokenness doesn’t win. Eternity tells us separation doesn’t win. Heaven doesn’t contain God. God contains heaven.

I’m thankful for my heritage - for my grandparents and parents who lived their faith in front of me - who faithfully taught it to me - who encouraged me to embrace it and make it my own. I’m thankful for faithful pastors - who take the responsibility of preaching - seriously - who teach the whole truth.

“And I am certain that God who began the good work within me - will continue His work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.”

THE WOMAN'S CONFERENCE

I haven’t been to a woman’s conference in years - COVID got in the way - of so many things really! But when I heard that Beth Moore was coming to Toronto - my sister - Brenda - and I got tickets immediately. That was last April. For the last 7 months, we’ve anticipated the gathering. (Gather is my word for 2025 so it seemed fitting to “gather” with a large group of women before the year was finished). Almost 2,000 of us in one large auditorium to sing and be encouraged.

I’ve been to several women’s conferences in my day. A few in particular stand out. Once I travelled with Brenda and two Cambridge friends to a Women of Faith conference in Columbus Ohio. It was 2009! It was just months after Randy and I were “let go” from our church and we’re enjoying a sabbatical year in Westport, Ontario. The conference was a healing weekend - laughter with my “sisters” and tears of release or the pain and humiliation. The music and speakers poured God’s love into me that weekend and I came away refreshed.

The second conference that comes to mind - was shortly after Randy passed away. My friends encouraged me to attend a smaller, more intimate weekend in the Muskokas. It was only 4 months! My heart was so tender and the grief was plausible. From the very first song of the evening - I knew I wouldn’t last. From the opening remarks of the speaker (not her fault but she was speaking on marriage and the husband/wife relationship) I was doomed. I didn’t last. My friend packed up my suitcase and drove me home. I wasn’t ready. It was too much.

Beth Moore! You may wonder who she is. She is a wife - mother - author - and bible teacher. She founded (along with her husband, Keith) Living Proof Ministries - an organization meant to teach women. She speaks at arena events and has written countless books and Bible study guides. The Toronto event was her last engagement for the year.

Part of the weekend was spent seeing and visiting with friends I hadn’t seen in years……having pastored in 4 different communities over 35 years of church ministry - I’ve met a lot of people - 1980 - 1987 (Orillia) - 1987 - 1998 (Listowel) - 1998 - 2009 (Cambridge) - 2010 -2014 (Alliston). The churches we served in provided friendships that last to this day.

Beth Moore spoke on 1 Corinthians 13. “Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy. It does not boast. It is not proud. It is not self-seeking and is not easily angered. It keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects - always trusts - always hopes - always persevere.”

The title of her weekend message was - Love Amid No Pretty Little Life! Love is not an option and not many of us have a perfect life. In fact - most of our lives are messy. Most of our lives have difficult seasons and most of our lives have messy and difficult people to deal with. Sometimes the messiness and difficulties are right inside of us.

In the midst of this messiness - Beth encouraged us - that while our hearts may be fragile, our love must be fierce. It is not without emotion. It is not without passion. It is not without sentiment or reaction. But it is resilient. Strong. Tough. Hardy. I’m reminded of the story Jesus told of a Dad - who gave an inheritance to his youngest son. The young man left home and squandered all the money on parties - women - and wild living but soon was penniless. Meanwhile the Dad was back home - watching and waiting - for his son’s return - not knowing if it would ever happen. I imagine that evening after evening - he sat in his rocking chair - on his front porch - scanning the long driveway - hopeful - watching for his beloved to return. And then one day it happened - the prodigal returned - but instead of scolding - the Dad threw a celebration. His heart had been broken but his love remained sturdy.

Next Beth showed us - that a love so inclined is of no human origin. We must pursue love as a hunter chases after his prey. This kind of love doesn’t come naturally. It’s easy to love the lovely. It’s easy to get along with the nice ones. But - what about the prickly ones? The crabby ones? The ones that irritate? Crochety? Snarky? Snippy? Ah! Loving those takes extraordinary love. It may not be easy but it is doable.

Before Friday night was over - Beth shared - that this love is first received not achieved. We cannot extend to others what we don’t possess ourselves. We read out loud together - all 1600 women - 1 Corinthians 13 - as a prayer - receiving the words as if God were speaking them directly to us. Beth encouraged us to receive these words from Scripture as a gift. We can’t earn them. We can’t buy them. We can’t steal them from someone else. They are given to us in order for us to pass on to others.

That was Friday night.

Brenda and I went to our hotel for the night. We laughed and talked but soon dimmed the lights and were fast asleep. Once in the night I woke to hear Brenda mumbling something - I wish I could have understood her garble. It was such a joy to spend the time together. It doesn’t happen often enough anymore. I love her. She has always led the way for both of us.

Saturday morning!

It doesn’t matter that there are some people who don’t like me - some who don’t love me. It’s okay. It’s absolutely okay.

I am loved by the God of the universe. Can that be enough? Absolutely. Everything else is gravy!

Love has to recognize that sometimes you have to withdraw for a time. That’s also absolutely okay.

Deal with differences immediately. Don’t go to sleep at night if you are in a disagreement with a loved one. Once the difficulty has been talked through - dealt with - never bring it up again. It’s done! Never keep a list of wrongs! God doesn’t! Why should we?

Love has a face and one day we will see Him - God our Father! Heaven awaits.

There are 32 days left of this old year. Time enough to change some habits or reinforce these life lessons. Perhaps live different than the last 333 days. Live them realizing how precious your life is and the lives of your immediate family and close friends. Finish this year strong. Don’t focus on the past - mistakes that were made - harsh words were spoken that perhaps were better left unsaid! Focus on now. Give yourself a blank slate and colour it with love.

KINDNESS FOR THE WIN

My mom used to say - “If you don’t have anything nice to say - don’t say it at all!”

Last weekend I was in Kitchener - running a 5 km for the first time since I had a hamstring injury over 6 years ago. I haven’t done much running at all since that time. You see - my right hamstring works at approximately 20% according to the physiotherapist who initially rehabbed me. Over the years - as I’ve attended the gym regularly - trying to strengthen it - trying to get it back to where it was or at least close - trying - trying - trying - it’s been to no avail. My gait is weird. My pace is slow. My right hip and calf have to compensate and they don’t like it. But - what a joy it’s been to be outside again - pounding the pavement - smelling the smells - feeling my breathing regulate - preparing!

I ran the Remembrance Run at Riverside Park in Cambridge with my friend - Heather! We were reflecting on and commemorating her one year pronouncement of a cancer diagnosis and the fact that although, there have been struggles and difficulties this past year - she has persevered and fought and embraced life on a new level.

The day dawned sunny and cold. Perfect. No snow! No rain! Dry! Great conditions for a autumn run through the park.

As we lined up at the start line - I took a moment to reflect on past races…..5 kms…..8 kms……10kms……..half marathons…….triathlons! So many races through the years. So many hill training runs. So many pace runs. So many gruelling long Saturday runs. So many easy runs! So many conversations where me and my running buddies solved the problems of the world. I remembered my personal best times…. a 22:38 5 km… a sub two hour half marathon… a 49:55 10 km……..placing in the top three in my age group…….good memories.

Saturday would be an ordinary day! An ordinary run but extraordinary in another sense. I didn’t expect a fast pace. I couldn’t. I didn’t expect placing in my age group. I wouldn’t. Saturday was all about running with my friend.

I ran - (hobbled ackwardly) - and enjoyed the beauty of the park. Heather ran strong. I had my eye on her the whole way - just about 100 meters behind her. I actually finished with a time better than my training times. I was pleased. I found Heather at the finish line and we embraced! Emotions were streaming down her face.

Imagine my surprise when right after this photo was taken - someone remarked to me - (someone who should have checked her brain first before opening her mouth) - “I thought you’d be faster! You’re pretty slow!”

Everything around me went blank. The air was sucked out of the atmosphere. I might as well have been smacked in the face. My joy was stolen for a brief moment. Something very special was taken away. Eight words! Eight unkind words! Eight words that briefly changed my morning.

“If you don’t have anything nice to say - don’t say it at all!”

My grand daughter - Indigo - was spending the weekend with us. After the race - Indy and I headed to the Waterloo Mall before driving home to Kincardine. I needed new running shoes - at Sport Chek and I was planning to use all the points Harv had carefully accumulated and get those shoes for free! I did just that. We planned to have lunch at the food court but before we did - I mentioned to Indigo that I wanted to stop at Lululemon.

We entered the store (not in Shanghai but Waterloo) and immediately a lovely young salesgirl approached us and engaged in conversation with us. We chatted for a bit and she offered Indigo a VIP bracelet to go see “Santa” - who had just set up shop at the mall - just outside the Lululemon store. The young lady accompanied us to see Santa and much to our surprise - Santa’s helper - in no uncertain terms - informed us that Santa was done for the day - and wouldn’t see one more child that day! The young sales lady asked one more time and one more time, Santa’s helper said - no!

Indy quietly chirped to me - “He’s not the real Santa anyhow! The real one is in the north pole getting our presents ready for Christmas”!

Back to the Lululemon Store! Back to browsing! Once again - the young sales girl came over to us and asked if she could give Indy a gift for the disappointment of not seeing Santa. Both Indy and I were surprised but delighted. Sure enough, Indy received a brand new “pink” purse. I’m thinking that young sales girl paid for it out of her own money. I’ll never know for sure but this one thing I do know - her words and actions were nothing but kind. She made a little girl’s day turn from disappointment to joy.

Kindness matters. Kind actions matter. Kind words matter.

The writers of the Bible had lots to say about Kindness!

“Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another.”

“He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you - but to do justice, and to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God.”

“Whoever pursues righteousness and kindness will find life, righteousness and honour.”

“Outdo one another in showing honour.”

We used to teach our young sons to imagine there were soldiers posted around their mouths - only allowing good words - kind words - encouraging words - to exit. It wasn’t just for them though. It applied to their parents. It still does.

Last Saturday I experienced the best of people and the worst of people! Quite frankly while the words spoken to me after the race pricked my heart - they didn’t linger! Indy’s experience at the Lulu store blessed me beyond measure.

In a world where people need more kindness - be that person!

IMMANUEL - GOD WITH US

We recently began rehearsing for this year’s presentation of The Messiah. It will take place at Knox Presbyterian church - right here in Kincardine, on Saturday, December 20th at 7 pm. I can’t wait. We missed last year. You might recall that. You might not. I remember.

Handel composed Messiah (1741) -  an English language oratorio that traces the story of Jesus Christ. Messiah was first performed in Dublin, Ireland on April 13, 1742 and received its London premiere nearly a year later. The Messiah has gained in popularity throughout these last few hundred years and has become one of the best-known and most frequently performed choral pieces in Western music. The ‘Hallelujah’ chorus is one of the most famous pieces of Baroque choral music and the most widely known section of the work. Though it was originally written for Easter, Handel’s Messiah has also become a mainstay of the festive season.

Handel deliberately kept the dramatic content of his Messiah understated – it was in church after all. He created a piece based on three concepts: the story of the nativity and its prophecy; that of the crucifixion and redemption of mankind; and a commentary on the Christian soul and its victory over death. In each of these three parts, the chorus is absolutely at the heart of the work, complemented by four vocal soloists and an orchestra.

Handel composed Messiah in just 24 days without getting much sleep and or eating much food. While writing the ‘Hallelujah’ chorus Handel’s servant discovered him with tears in his eyes, and he exclaimed, “I did think I did see all Heaven before me, and the great God Himself seated on His throne, with His company of Angels.”

My love affair with Handel’s Messiah began in my late 20’s. We had just moved to Listowel to begin our pastorate there and I was looking for ways to be involved in our community - meet new friends etc. I joined the Listowel Community Singers and I sang with the choir for ten years. We performed parts of the Messiah every year - sometimes at Christmas and sometimes at Easter. Someone once said to me that they had attended one of the performances and watched me sing. They said they could tell I was enjoying myself. I replied to them that I did enjoy singing such a fantastic piece of music but mostly because I believe the words.

As I rehearse the choruses - at home and with the whole choir - I’m reminded that Jesus was prophesied to come to be the Messiah/Immanuel - meaning God is with us! Prophets weren’t enough. Apostles wouldn’t do. Angels wouldn’t suffice. God (the Father) sent more than miracles or a message. He sent Himself in the person of His Son.

My siblings and I attended Sight and Sound Theatre in Lancaster, Pennsylvania in December, 2009. We witnessed the Biblical Christmas Story come to life on stage. I was mesmerized from the moment the curtains went up. The story began in the days just before Christ was born - in the days that were dismal for God’s people - in the days when Roman rule was foremost - in the days when Caesar ruled with an iron fist - in the days of waiting - in the days of wondering if the promised Messiah would ever come - in the days of difficulties and distress. I felt the despair. I felt the frustration and panic and fear.

I wondered at the excitement when Mary was chosen to be the mother of God’s Son. I was gripped by the actors as they portrayed hope that the prophecy of the promised Messiah was going to happen.

Immanuel - would be all in for His people. He would leave heaven for earth and become one of us - yet remaining fully God - and - for 2,000 years since that very first Christmas, He has been with us! He became a human so that He could relate to us - to me - to you - personally and individually.

Max Lucado said it this way!

“Immanuel isn’t just the God of big churches - the super spiritual - the wealthy - the pastors - perfect families.

He’s so much bigger than that.

His love is bigger. His Presence is bigger.

Because……He’s also and especially the Immanuel of - oncology visits - broken hearts - empty bank accounts - funeral homes - rehab rooms - sleepless nights - bathroom floors - messy selves and messy lives.

The places where it’s just me and Him. The places only He can really see - hear - understand - guide - comfort - heal. The places of loss - despair - loneliness - doubt - fear.

Immanuel is also in the places of growth - hope - belonging - grace - peace. The places that nothing and no one else can touch except for this big - big - Immanuel - God with us - Messiah. Those are the most sacred places of all - and - some of the most beautiful.

Immanuel - God with us.

Our God - Who will never leave us.”

Romans 8:38, 39 - “For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

This December - hear Handel’s Messiah for the first time or the fiftieth time - and be amazed that the baby Jesus of Bethlehem was born to be your Immanuel - God with you.

JESUS DIDN'T HEAL EVERYONE

I’m not sure who needs to hear this today but here it is. I read this essay last week by SARA TRENT and it resonated deep down in my heart. I haven’t experienced all the thoughts that the author of this essay has expressed but I do understand where she is coming from.

Each day - things happen in my life and the life of my family - friends - acquaintances - world events - and my immediate response is and must be - to pray!

Phil. 4:6 - Don’t be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving - let your requests be made known to God.

Mark11:24 - Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it and it will be yours.

Matthew 6:6 - But when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

We pray for healing in disease ridden bodies. We pray for marriages headed to the divorce court to be restored. We pray for prodigals to return. We pray for severed family relationships to be mended. We pray that an empty womb will be filled. We pray for finances to pay the never ending bills. We pray. And we wait for the answer!

Here is what Sara Trent wrote.

Jesus didn’t heal everyone. I’ve wrestled with that truth in the quiet places no one sees - in the hospital hallways where prayers echoed unanswered - in the graveside silences where I begged Him to come late like He did for Lazarus…….and still believe He could.

He didn’t always stop. He didn’t always speak. Sometimes………….He just walked by. Sometimes………….the thorn wasn’t removed.

And that truth used to ache in me like a wound I couldn’t name. I had an idea that if He could - He should. That if He was near, He would fix what was broken. That if He loved me, He’d rescue me - quickly - public - visibly.

But He didn’t. And yet, He loved me still.

I used to think miracles were the evidence of favour - of faith. Now I see - sometimes - the silence is. Sometimes the “no” is just as holy as the “now”. Sometimes the waiting is more sacred than the wonder.

Because the truth is - Jesus didn’t heal everyone.

Not every lame man walked. Not every blind eye opened. Not every storm was stilled. Not every grave was emptied.

But He saw every ache. He felt every cry. He wept at every tomb. Even the ones He didn’t raise.

I’m learning that His love is not proven by how quickly He answers - BUT BY HOW FAITHFULLY HE STAYS when He doesn’t.

He didn’t always heal the body. But He always touched the soul. He always restored what mattered most. And He always walked in love - even when His hands didn’t move the way I hoped.

So here I am - YEARS into a prayer I’m still waiting on. Holding the tension between faith and fatigue.

Still believing He can. Still trusting Him even if He doesn’t. Still finding Him in the places I didn’t expect - the long spells - the dry spells - the closed doors - the empty hands.

And maybe - just maybe - that’s the deeper healing.

Maybe He walked past them so He could walk with me. Maybe He withheld the miracle to give me more of Him. Maybe the greatest healing isn’t in the answer………..but in the nearness of the One who holds me while I wait.

He didn’t heal everyone. But He never passed by the brokenhearted. And I know now. He has not passed by me. (Thanks to Sara Trent for her thoughts)

God may not heal everyone but He heals some. Not every marriage is restored but some are. Not every prodigal returns but some do. Not every family relationship is restored but some are. Not every womb is filled but some are.

I love the story in the book of Mark in the New Testament where a desperate father pleads with Jesus to heal his son. In the conversation between the two - the father utters this statement - "“Lord I believe - help my unbelief.” I love this man’s honesty and struggle - having both belief and unbelief present at the same time.

So - we must be honest about what we are going through - what we are praying for. Pray that our faith will be strengthened and unmovable. Pray that we will remain steadfast during difficult times. Pray with the realization that God can and will meet us in our moments of doubt.

What grace we’re offered. What peace we’re given. What a blessing to lean into the arms of our faithful God - through thick and thin.

In the waiting - God is present.

THE PRICE IS RIGHT!

We didn’t have much money at all but on a whim - we decided to spend the little we had on a family trip to California - to visit our friends who had recently moved there. Five plane tickets purchased. Money exchanged into American funds. Car rental secured. Up! Up! and Away!

We were all excited…..it was the first flight for our sons……my second flight……and Randy’s third. Toronto to Los Angeles. 5 hours! Wheels up at 6 pm and wheels down at 9 pm (local time).

We did the normal touristy things - Disney Land - Knots Berry Farm - a side trip down south to San Diego where we took in the world famous aquarium and zoo - another side trip to Palm Springs (an oasis in the middle of the desert) - the Santa Monica pier - Venice beach - Laguna Beach - Manhattan Beach and the Griffith Observatory and of course a close view of the famous Hollywood sign.

While all those things were fun and amazing - two events happened in the course of our trip that were more significant and even somewhat life changing.

I had the crazy idea that we should head to the movie studio for the Price is Right and try to be part of the audience. We did just just that and can you believe it? Randy was selected to be a contestant. Craziness. When we arrived at the studio - everyone was instructed to stand in a long line and slowly - very slowly - we snaked our way until we finally met the director of the show. He asked us a few questions and then we were herded into the studio - where we found our seat and waited. Everyone was in place and we were pumped and excited. The stage hands got us all ready to begin cheering as they counted down to the beginning of the taping. And then it happened - Bob Barker - entered the stage and welcomed the contestants up. You know the drill! The first name was called. Come on down. The second name was called. Come on down. And then it happened - Randy Jolliffe - come on down - you’re the next contestant on the Price is Right. We both jumped to our feet. Randy clapped his hands together and jogged down the aisle to the stage. I was jumping up and down and cheering as loud as I could.

Randy won the third guessing price game and then rolled 95 cents on the big wheel. He was the highest spinner of the day and thus, qualified for the Showcase Showdown. He ended up coming in second but after the prizes were converted into cash - our trip was paid for and when we went home - we put the money right back into our savings account. God provides in mysterious ways. Randy was a good sport that day. Bob Barker introduced him as “a minister from Canada!” It was ever so fun to watch the show weeks later…….our kids, our family and our friends delighted with us in that unexpected encounter in Hollywood. It’s a great memory.

Our second “life changing” event occurred on a Sunday evening. Randy, the boys and I - attended a church - pastored by Charles (Chuck) Swindoll. Swindoll is presently 91 years old and wears many hats - pastor - author - educator and radio preacher. He founded the radio program - Insight for Living. It was while he was pastoring in Fullerton, California, that we met him.

Zac, Ben, and Pete were 7, 6 and 5 at the time and after a full day of California sunshine - fell asleep during the evening sermon. After the service concluded, Randy and I made our way down to the front of the auditorium (we were in row 4 so we could keep our eyes on our sleeping sons) and waited in line to introduce ourselves. Chuck Swindoll was warm and grandfatherly - taking Randy’s hands in his and so very encouraging in his words to a young pastor. Then he cupped his big hands around my face and said something so profound - “I’m looking for scars that every pastor’s wife carries!” At the time - I quipped “no scars here!” He smiled. He knew. The scars would come. He was right! I was wrong.

Randy and I pastored the local church for 35 years - in Orillia, Listowel, Cambridge and Alliston. We knew the ups and downs of ministry. I often reflected back on Pastor Swindoll’s comments.

Someone shared this with me a long time ago and as I share it today - I realize that some of these statements happened to me - in my life - when I was a pastor’s wife.

This is for the weary pastor’s wife!

“I see you. I know the load you carry. It’s a heavy one because it’s a Holy one. The pressure you feel never eases. I see you worrying over the mental load your husband wears. I see you continually wiping the windows of the glass house your children live within. I see your victories, but I still see the tears in the bathroom of the nursery. I see the growth and new life, yet I still see the disappointments that quietly crush you. I see you on your knees, asking God for wisdom. I see you continually processing every situation. Analyzing words spoken. I see you forgiving those who have hurt you. I see you loving those who left you. I see you not serving behind your husband but beside him. Because somewhere along this journey, you’ve realized this isn’t just a ministry. This is your calling. The church isn’t just a church. It’s your home. And this congregation isn’t just some people. They’re your family. Because this calling is your heartbeat, your next breath. This ministry is your passion and these people give you life. I see you as you walk into the sanctuary with the grace you need to fulfill the work God has called you to do. Remember He hasn’t called you into perfection. He’s called you to love people like today’s your last opportunity. Quit caring what people think so much and stay focused on Him. Whatever you do, don’t get distracted.”

Thank you Pastor Swindoll for reaching out to me - at the time - a very naive 30 year old pastor’s wife. I knew you were in my corner. I knew your heart was for me. I’ve remember that conversation for almost 40 years.

And thank you Pastor Swindoll for your ministry and wise words throughout the years!

“Life is ten percent what happens to me and ninety percent how I react to it.”

“Attitude is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, then education, money, circumstances, than failures and success, than what other people think, say or do. It is more important than appearance, ability or skill. It will make or break a business, a home, a friendship or organization.”

“Each day of our lives we make deposits in the the memory banks of our children.”

“A family is a place where principles are hammered and honed on the anvil of everyday living.”

And this one! “A teardrop on earth summons the King of Heaven.”

“Each morning, God deposits 86,400 seconds into our bank of time but nothing carries over to the next day. Spend it well.”

If I bumped into Chuck Swindoll on the street today, he would not remember me but I remember him. His words and touch made a hug impact on my life.

Our boys have only vague memories of the trip…….they were young…….but for Randy and I…..it was life changing…..we were on tv and we met Chuck Swindoll. Very cool.

The price was right!

TUESDAY MORNING (VESPERS)

Every Tuesday morning from 8 - 9 am - I attend the prayer service at my local church. The sweet hour (of power) includes 20 minutes of worship (singing) - 20 minutes of quiet meditation and prayer - 20 minutes of corporate prayer. It’s quiet. It’s peaceful. It’s powerful. It’s meaningful. It’s binding. It’s life changing.

This past Tuesday morning, we spent time reflecting on Pastor Adam’s Sunday sermon. Our pastor has been teaching through the Nicene Creed and “why we believe what we believe.” The passage from the Creed that he focused on this past Sunday was “God from God - Light from Light - True God from True God - Begotten, not created - of One Being with the Father - Through Him all things were made.” What a powerful truth these words express. It was C. S. Lewis who penned these words - “The Son of God became a man to enable men to become sons of God.”

Adam challenged us with this statement. Christ is either the Creator or the created. What I believe determines how I live. My response? The Creator. So……… (my) Worship deepens which leads to Obedience - (my) Faith strengthens which leads to Confidence- (my) Hope endures which leads to Perseverance - (my) Love multiplies which overflows to others - and - (my) Witness bcomes bolder which leads to servanthood.

When I was a little girl - I loved when missionaries visited our church and told their stories of what life was like in faraway lands. This particular story has stuck with me all my life. The man who told this story was very old when I was very young so this probably happened in the 1920’s or 1930’s. He and his family - including his wife and three children - were living in a remote village - sharing the stories of Jesus with the village people. The chief was not happy with the missionary and one night - decided to make an end of the family. The husband and wife gathered their children close as they heard the young men of the village, along with the chief, gather outside their home. The family knew that they might be killed sometime during the night. The family huddled together in their home - praying and trusting - waiting and wondering. All night long the chief and his young warriors circled the perimeter of their yard but did not venture any closer.

When the day dawned, the family was still alive - their hut untouched - the village warriors gone. The family wondered at God’s grace. Later that day the chief arrived at their home - by himself - and asked to come in. Again the family experienced fear at what might happen. The chief explained that they had planned to kill the family - burn down their hut - but 13 armed guards were surrounding the hut - protecting the hut and family! The village warriors were afraid of the armed guards. The chief wanted to know where and how the family had secured such help. Soon after the village came to learn about God and accepted the family as one of their own.

Later - a letter arrived from a church in Canada - explaining that a group of people had “felt” the need to pray for this family on a particular night - which happened to be the night the village planned to kill them. Thirteen prayer warriors gathered in Canada to pray. The same number of armed guards who surrounded the hut that night.

That story made a huge impact on my life about the importance of praying - specifically - strategically - and with purpose.

“Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”

C. S. Lewis - “I pray because I can’t help myself. I pray because I’m helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time - waking and sleeping. It doesn’t change God. It changes me.”

That’s why I love Tuesday morning (vespers). Worship. Meditation. Prayer. There is something very special about gathering together.

COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS

This weekend is my third favourite weekend of the year - after Christmas and Easter! Thanksgiving. So much to be grateful for. So much to be thankful for.

The first recorded Canadian Thanksgiving was in 1578, when explorer - Martin Frobisher’s expedition gave thanks for safe passage.

But even more than turkey - even more than potatoes and gravy - even more than pumpkin pie and whipped cream (although I really, really, really love pumpkin pie and whipped cream) - I love singing the old familiar hymns. Hymns that speak of harvest. Hymns that speak of provision. Hymns that speak of receiving good gifts from our Heavenly Father. This weekend does give us pause to remember what indeed we are thankful for.

Peter Marshall said it this way! “Father, we gather to thank You - for Your great gift of life - that Your love for us is not dependent upon any unworthiness of ours - for health - for clothes to wear - for those who love us best - for friends whose words of encouragement have often chased away dark clouds - for the zest of living - for many answered prayers - for kind providence that has preserved us from danger and harm.

Thank you that we live in a land bountifully able to supply all our needs - a land which still by Your Providence knows peace - whose skies are not darkened by the machines of the enemy - whose fields and woodlands are still unblasted by the flames of war - a land with peaceful valleys and smiling meadows. Help us appreciate all that we have - to be content with it - to be grateful for it - to be proud of it - not in an arrogant pride that boasts - but in a grateful pride that strives to be more worthy. We offer you our gratitude.”

Meeting you later in life was exactly how it was meant to happen. We were both healing - living life alone - working out our futures. Then God brought us together - to heal together - to love each other - to grow old together. Love hits different when it finds you later in life.

I’m grateful for where I live. This is my view - night after night. It never gets old.

These three - have my whole heart. Three sons - born in 1982,1983,1984! Three children to raise and nurture - now grown with families of their own. How grateful I am that God blessed me and our home. My biggest accomplishment in life will never be money or prestige - it will be the ones I raised!

Grateful for my three daughters-in-law. How wonderful in God’s providence that He provided my sons with these beautiful women. Grateful for their lives - the homes they came from - their gifts and personalities - the homes they have created with my sons.

Ten grandchildren. Six grandsons. Four grand-daughters. I can’t even find the words to describe my love for them and how incredibly proud I am of each of them.

Oh how thankful I am for the home I was raised in - for my parents - my brothers and my sisters! We recently celebrated two 85th birthdays.

So grateful for the abundance of delicious food we have to choose from for our meals.

This past summer I spent so many happy days on the pickle ball courts in Port Elgin. I met great people. I sweated in the hot sunshine. I laughed. I won some games I lost some games. But always came home fulfilled - and thrilled that I get to play the game I love.

So grateful for my faith - my church - my pastor - and those I worship with - Sunday after Sunday.

My girlfriends! Some I’ve known for a long time - some only for a short season - but all of these women have spoken grace and life into me.

I’m thankful for the hope of heaven after this life - for God’s grace while grieving the passing of loved ones - Randy - Dad - Mom - Tim - Ted and Bill. How we miss these dear ones. How grateful that their faith is now sight.

Thanksgiving shouldn’t be shut up into a single day - practice it everyday.

I AM WOMAN! HEAR ME STRONG!

CAMINO WORDS! “She stood in the storm and when the wind did not blow her way, she adjusted her sails……..because sometimes resilience means redirecting - not retreating.”

That’s how I was raised! I had the example of my very strong mother and older sisters who faced and continue to face really hard things. The women who raised me - didn’t hide under a rock when things got/get tough. They faced them. They embraced them. They conquered them.

I was around 5 or 6 years old when my Dad had a hospital stay that lasted 6 or 7 weeks. My Dad was the sole breadwinner in our family and I’m not even sure he got paid when he didn’t go to work. Dad had a kidney removed and the recovery was a long time. Children couldn’t go into the hospital in those days - so once a week - after church on Sunday - Mom would take us kids to the hospital parking lot and there we would stand and wave up at Dad. Dad would look out of his window and he always waved back. How I missed him around the house. It was a very long couple of months. During those extremely difficult weeks - Mom started selling Avon - to help with the finances. She was very good at it too. Mom simply adjusted her sails - redirected her role in our family - and did what she had to do.

Courage doesn’t always roar. Somedays it’s the quiet voice that says - I’ll try again tomorrow.

In my 40’s and 50’s - I did a lot of running. One year I purposed to run 1200 km - that year was 2014. When Randy collapsed at the end of June and passed away one week later - my running was suspended. The night he died - I could barely walk across the room, let alone go for a 10 km run. And yet - as the summer passed - I grew stronger - and by September, I was back at it. I ran 1,000 km that year. It took courage. It took strength. It took encouragement from my family and friends. I did it.

Annawin - “I thought God lived only in the miracles. But I met Him in the waiting….in the mornings with nothing new….in the pain of surrender when nothing made sense…..but I trusted anyway.”

Randy and I served in the local church ministry for 35 years. Most of the that time - life was filled with preaching (either prepping and preparing or presenting) - counselling - encouraging - teaching - fellowshipping and loving our congregations - but there were times…….that were really hard - painful - gut wrenching! In one particularly difficult situation - we prayed for a miracle. We prayed that things would change. They didn’t. We prayed that a new morning would reveal an answer to our tear-filled prayers. It didn’t. Nothing made sense. We had been called to a church and less than two years later - “they” wanted us gone. “They” didn’t like the changes - a worship team that used drums - guitars instead of an organ - songs instead of hymns! “They” just didn’t want us. We got fired and we trusted anyway. We met God in the waiting.

Annawin - “There were pages I didn’t post. Chapters. I couldn’t say things out loud. Not because I was ashamed but because they were treasures. God was rewriting me in the margins of my silence. And some of that ink was meant to stay just between me and God.”

It still is.

When I don’t see the purpose of my wounds - I remind myself that every scar is a reminder……not of where I bled but where God healed.

I have a very large scar on my right leg. I’m pretty sure it’s from the first time I shaved my legs. I probably used my Dad’s razor (and I imagine he was not happy when he shaved his face the next day with a dull razor.) I have a scar on my right hand too. That scar is the result of my disobedience - as a 5 year old - taking a pop bottle - on a Sunday afternoon - (when I had been told not to) - to the corner store to buy candy. I never made it to the store. I fell down the back stairs and the glass dug into my hand. It took 3 nurses and my parents to hold me down while the doctor stitched me up - 6 stitches. It was quite a gash. To this day - I’m reminded of that day.

There are some wounds - to my heart - where I’m reminded - not of the hurt but of the healing. I mentioned earlier that Randy and I were “let go” by our church family. Fired! For days and weeks, we reeled with our new reality. We moved away from Cambridge to begin a sabbatical in Westport. We thought it would last for 3 or 4 months but God allowed us to stay there for one year. What a tremendous year of healing that was for us. About 6 or 7 weeks after moving to Westport, we were worshipping in the Pier Church in Brockville, Ontario. My brother and his wife and family attended there. At one point in the service, the pastor of the church welcomed anyone to come to the altar and receive prayer for healing - help - or whatever. I practically ran to the front. My brother and his wife and nephew prayed over me and at that moment, God healed my very broken heart. I offered forgiveness to those who had broken it.

One last thing……….The older I get the more I realize that time doesn’t heal all wounds. There are things in life that will always hurt (just a bit) or be tender (sometimes a lot). I can still be content and happy and still have some things in my life that pinch at the memory of them.

With time, I have come to understand that healing doesn’t necessarily mean erasing - that moving forward doesn’t mean forgetting. Some wounds do not disappear - but they do soften - they do shift - but they remain part of who I am today. Who I have become. I am not the same person I was ten years ago or twenty years ago. And that’s good. That’s really good.

I also don’t wait for the day when every ache has disappeared to be grateful or joyful or living life to the fullest. Happiness and hurt can coexist - one does not cancel out the other. I can love deeply - even when my heart has known great pain.

Life is not about “getting over” everything - it is about learning to hold both sorrow and joy - with grace and strength - allowing them to shape me without defining me.

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed!” (2 Corinthians 4:7-9)

MY FRIEND - HEATHER CHAN - PART 3

Last October - my sweet and courageous friend - Heather Chan - received devastating news. The kind of news that no one wants to hear - cancer - in her liver and pancreas. We grieved the diagnosis. We cried. I held Heather in my arms until the sobs subsided. We talked. We prayed. We spoke of what the future might bring. BUT right from the start, Heather was determined to deal with the cancer with grace and hope - embracing each day as best as possible - continuing to go to the gym - go for walks - meet with her trainer - have coffee with family and friends - go shopping (something she loves to do) - and trust that God would sustain her on the really rough days. And rough days there have been - but rarely - has she ever answered my texts or phone calls with despair. Heather is upbeat and did I mention - hopeful!

There were some very tough days this past summer. Heather’s weight dropped dramatically and she ended up in the hospital for a few days - with dehydration and exhaustion. But - perseverance - is Heather’s middle name. She embraced each and every setback with determination.

We spent Labour Day Monday together on our beach. Heather and her husband Pat drove up for the day and while Pat paddled his kayak around the lake, we walked the beach - sat in the sun and snacked on yummy treats. We shared lunch together. We talked about everything. We shed some tears. We prayed together. It was a great day for the body and soul.

Imagine my surprise - last week - when Heather texted me to tell me that she had signed up to run a 5 km race in November. I couldn’t believe it. I was delighted for her. She is tiny - physically - but a giant in her will to live and continues to overcome tremendous odds.

Imagine even greater surprise - when the thought popped into my head - that I should run the 5 km race with her. I should be by Heather’s side. I will support her.

The last race I ran was May 25, 2019 in Ottawa. It was part of the Ottawa marathon weekend and I ran a 2 km family run with my son, Ben and my grandson, Luke. We even made the CTV evening news in Ottawa. Earlier in the day - I had shared our story with the newscaster - three generations - running together. It was my last race (until now).

A few months after my Ottawa race with Ben and Luke - I was waterskiing - and the tip of the right ski caught under a wave as I was taking off from the dock. I tried to pull the tip out of the water and felt pain in my right hamstring. I immediately let go of the rope - paddled my body back to the dock where Harv helped to pull me up. When I tried to stand - the pain was so intense that I fainted. Over the next few hours - my hamstring swelled up and then, over the next few days - the bruising began - from my lower back to my ankle. I was in rough shape. I couldn’t put any weight on it. I could only ice it and take the strongest pain killers I could buy over the counter. It took twelve weeks for my right hamstring to heal and when it did - it was working at only 20%. Running was out of the question. I slowly eased back into pickle ball, the gym, cycling, swimming and walking. I realized I would not run competitively again.

Disappointed - yes! But grateful for the things I could do. Grateful rather than bitter. Grateful for the years of running races with my kids, grandson, Randy, Heather and several other friends. Grateful for the triathlons I had trained for and completed. Grateful. Always.

Here we are 6 years later and I will run - not fast - and with a very weird gait - but I will run. If my friend wants to run this race, I will be by her side.

Heather and I have been friends since 2007 when we met at the Harriers Running Club in Cambridge. This group met Tuesday and Thursday evenings for training runs and then again, on Saturday morning for the “long” run. How Randy and I enjoyed training with our running friends. Heather and I became instant friends - she became “my little sister.” (Check out my blogs to read more of Heather’s story - November 28, 2024 and April 10, 2025).

It was F. Scott Fitzgerald who said - “She is beautiful, but not like the women in the magazines. She is beautiful for the way she thinks. She is beautiful for the sparkle in her eyes when she talks about something she loves. She is beautiful for her ability to make other people smile, even when she is sad. No - she isn’t beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She is beautiful - deep down in her soul. She is beautiful.”

That’s my friend - Heather Chan.

Sarah waited. Deborah led. Esther risked. Ruth followed. Mary believed. Women of God - your faith will shape your story too!

WORDS MATTER

I’ve played hundreds of games of pickle ball this summer - with several different partners. I’ve won my share of games and lost a number of them as well. There are not too many days - when I come home - that I tell Harv I’ve had a rotten day on the courts - in fact - I can’t think of one! But I will admit - an encouraging partner sometimes is the difference between a win or a loss - a great game (even in defeat) or a frustrating one (even in victory).

When my sons turned 21 - I wrote a book for each of them - MOTHER’S MEMORIES FOR MY SON! In that book there were probably 80 pages dedicated to my writings and pictures and thoughts - and one - only one - page - dedicated to their Dad’s thoughts. One page for Randy.

When Adele was born, I came across Pete’s book and read the words that Randy had written.

“Petey - ‘the rock’. We knew as soon as we saw you this would be your name. What a name to live up to! You’ve always been such a happy, well adjusted, easy going guy. I’m pretty sure we didn’t need to raise you - you were so amazing. Remember the times we went to Mr. C’s in Listowel while your brothers were in school? We had coffee and donuts and you played Pac Man. How much I have enjoyed watching your athletic career. Basketball. Rugby. Football. You did it all! I still feel bad the time you broke your arm in football. I was very sure it wasn’t broken - but it was - oops - sorry about that. To this day you never complain or say a bad word about anyone. You are amazing! You’ve learned to play the guitar and that’s a special joy to see. You will make the most amazing husband and father someday. (He is!) What a joy you are to Mom and I and how we thank God. It’s been a joy to be your Mom and Dad. We are truly blessed. ‘Be strong in the Lord’ Ephesians 6:10. What an amazing thing to do - run a triathlon with me. Thanks. Love you always. Dad.”

I’m sure Pete feels ten feet tall every time he reads and rereads these word.

I remember the scene from the stage production “Anne of Green Gables” when Anne’s beloved Matthew dies. Anne was heartbroken. She knew how much Matthew cared for her. She knew from the moment when Matthew picked her up from the train station, that even though she wasn’t a boy and the orphanage sent a girl, she was loved by Matthew. It was Matthew that bought the dress with puffed sleeves for Anne. It was Matthew who helped Anned make her famous apology to Mrs. Lynde. I loved that Matthew - a scruff old bachelor - was able to tell Anne how much he cared for her - how much he loved her - how thankful he was that she had come to live at Green Gables with him and Marilla. But, Marilla, Matthew’s sister lamented the fact that even though she too loved Anne, she had not ever been able to communicate her love for Anne or even for her brother, Matthew.

Marilla laments this in the song The Words!

“I can’t find the words. Can’t get out the phrases. When he needed love, did I sing his praises? Where did the words go when I was beside him? Why couldn’t I show all the love that my heart felt toward him? I adored him. I can’t find the words?

Marilla had opportunities but never told him. Lost opportunities. Too late. Too late.

At the time my sons turned 21, I’m sure they might have thought it was a little lame to get a book of memories from their mom and dad. Maybe a lot lame. They never said though. They were much too gracious. I’m sure they are thankful to have those books and especially to have the special page written by their Dad.

Words! Words!

The Bible has a lot to say about what we say - how we say it - when we say it!

Words have the power to build up or to tear down. Death and life are in the power of the tongue. The words of the reckless pierce like swords but the tongue of the wise brings healing. Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. Set a guard over my mouth, Lord; keep watch over the door of my lips. Out of the heart, the mouth speaks. The heart of the righteous weighs its answer, but the mouth of the wicked gushes evil. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone. Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.

If you have a spouse - tell them - regularly - how much they mean to you and how there is no one in the world who could ever replace them.

If you have a parent - tell them - how thankful you are for them and how grateful for their presence in your life.

It you have children - tell them - that they are awesome kids and what a great opportunity it is to be their mom or dad - how amazing they are - that if you lined up every kid in the world - you’d always choose them.

If you are a teacher - find things in your student’s lives where you can encourage them.

Today - make it a point to speak to someone - using your words to speak grace and love.

Words! I’m glad that Zac, Ben and Pete have that page written by their dad. I’m so grateful Randy didn’t leave anything unsaid.

IMPORTANT THINGS TO KNOW

Pretty much everyone I know has good intentions - to start walking - to eat more balanced - to begin a new hobby - to learn a language - to name a few. Lots of talk. Sometimes not a whole lot of action.

A few months after Randy passed away in 2014 - three Jolliffe grandchildren were born - Adele and Ian - in January/2015 and Tyson in April/2015. We found out that Adele and Ian were on the way shortly before Randy died and Tyson - shortly after. All three babies were highly anticipated and welcomed.

We waited patiently (sometimes not so patiently) for sweet Delly to arrive. Life is all about waiting isn’t it! Parents wait for their children to be born. Then they can’t wait until the kids are sleeping through the night. Then they wait until they can send them to preschool. Then big kid school. Then they can’t wait until they are in middle school. Finally high school. Moms and Dads can’t wait until the teens are driving. Then they wait through long evenings waiting for the car to drive into the garage and everyone is safe inside. Then they can’t until their young adults head to college or university. Then they wait for those kids to find a spouse. Then the kids get married and they wait for the grandchildren to arrive. Then they count the days until their own retirement.

WAIT WAIT WAIT

Some people wait to get married, then they wait for the divorce to come through so they can get married again. Others wait to sell their house so they can buy another house. Some wait for medical test results. Some wait for their prodigals to come home. Others wait for their children to leave home. Still others wait to see if they can have children. Some can’t wait for the start of hockey season and others can’t wait until the last whistle of the last game of the playoffs. Lots of people wish for Friday afternoon at 5pm and others wait for Monday at 9am so they can get back to work. Some never stop working and others never start working - always waiting for the perfect job.

WAIT WAIT WAIT

I wrote this on August 29 of 2014 (7 weeks after Randy passed away) “He (God) doesn’t ask us if we want to go through this or that - this difficulty or defeat - the loss of a loved one or job or relationship. God allows these things for His own purpose. The things we go through either make us sweeter, better or nobler men and women or they make us more critical and fault finding and more insistent on our own way. The things that happen either make us angry or they make us more gentle, depending entirely on our relationship with God and its’ level of intimacy. I know God is working according to His wisdom and will accomplish what is best for me. When I understand God’s purpose, I will not become small minded and cynical.”

These good intentions - this waiting for the next thing - have to become way more intentional for me - and I’m not speaking of a diet plan or exercise plan - although those things are pretty important too. When I was in the waiting period after Randy died - I purposed - I was intentional about putting the following things into practice. It became my practice then and still is today.

#1. Be Kind. To your spouse. To your kids. To your parents. To your friends. To your dog. To the people in your neighbourhood. To the irritating driver who cuts you off. To the grocery clerk. To your kid’s teacher. To your kid’s principal. Say nice things to each other. Do good things for each other. Offer to babysit for a young family. Make someone laugh. Host an informal get together. Make a care package and deliver it to someone in need. Take someone out for lunch. Let someone jump the queue at the grocery store. Buy a coffee to the car behind you in the line. Send flowers to a friend. Nobody likes a meanie.

#2. Learn to Share. Your toys. Your books. Your food. Your house. Your money. Your skills. Your time. Your feelings. Nobody likes a hoarder who keeps everything to themselves. The lives of those who don’t share are empty and meaningless. It’s way more fun to have a little together than much alone.

Remember the story of the Stone Soup? In a nutshell - a traveller arrived in a village and no one welcomed him or shared with him. The villagers hoarded their food and possessions. The stranger began to make a “stone soup” to share with all of them. He filled the pot with water - added the stone - and set it on the fire. He stirred it and kept remarking how tasty the soup would be. The villagers gathered around and he suggested that it would taste even better if someone added some carrots - and potatoes - and meat. Before long the villagers brought their meagre supply of veggies and donated them to the soup. In no time the variety of nutritious ingredients was ready and the village shared a delicious meal.

It’s important to be interconnected with your “village”.

#3. Look people in the eye. It’s so important that when people speak to you - you acknowledge them and make eye contact with them. It’s the most wonderful - heart-warming thing - to look into the eyes of a friend to establish emotional connection.

I remember my first meeting with Harvey. It was quite magical. We had emailed each other for several weeks before we met at a coffee shop - finally putting a face to the letters we had written. We sat for hours - across the table - sipping on our coffee - talking - talking - talking - sharing our life stories and not taking our eyes off of each other. How awkward would it have been if one of us had looked beyond the other - or kept their eyes down on their laps. Our coffee date quickly led to lunch dates and quickly led to our engagement and marriage.

Nothing worse than chatting with someone and they are looking everywhere but at you as if they would rather be in conversation with someone else.

#4. Don’t be a quitter. There are many lessons to learn at a young age and we can still learn as we age. When you start a project - finish it. Initiate - clearly check out what you want to do. Plan - create a plan for timelines and milestones. Execution of the plan - start putting it into practice. Monitor Progress - track momentum and make adjustments. Conclude the Project - wrap it up.

Several years ago I wanted to learn to quilt (before my mom passed away). I called my Mom and she told me what material to buy - start by cutting out 4 & 1/2 inch squares - sew them into strips - sew the strips into a quilt top - attach the batting and back sheet together - begin quilting. The project took me 6 years but I’ll never forget the night I finished it. All those long winter evenings - watching the Leafs and Raptors - little by little - the tiny stitches into the fabric became my quilt. There were a few times I wanted to abandon the project but “I’m not a quitter”.

#5. Know that Life isn’t fair. There will always be someone better off than you and someone worse off. Don’t compare yourself to others. Don’t compare your life to other’s lives. Somethings happen in the course of a lifetime that are awesome and wonderful and you’ll feel on top of the world. At some point in the course of a lifetime - things just don’t go well and you’ll be tempted to whine and complain. Don’t.

I remember a long time ago when Zac was in grade five. He wrote a great speech about living with asthma. He wrote it himself - practiced saying it a thousand times - and was chosen to represent his school at the next level of competition. In fact - he kept qualifying at the competitions until it was the very last one before the provincials. As he was delivering his speech - the father of the other participant suddenly developed a “very loud, persistent and distracting cough”. Zac was thrown off and the other participant was chosen to qualify for the provincials. We were all disappointed but it was a lesson in this very thing - life isn’t always fair. Just recently - Zac made a fabulous presentation for his company at a conference - he’s still making great speeches.

#6. Colour outside the lines. Sometimes - do something different - out of the ordinary. Buy the boots. Book the trip. Order the dessert. Call your long lost friend. Test drive a fancy car. Cheer the loudest at the game. Forgive and forget. Outdo another in showing honour. Don’t take revenge. If your enemy is hungry - feed him; if he is thirsty - give him something to drink. Don’t be overcome by evil but overcome evil with good.

#7. Show affection. Hug and kiss - a lot. Always say “I love you” to the important people in your life. Always kiss your parents or siblings or spouse “good night”. Hugs are always good. Life is too short to be mad and grumpy. It’s also lonely. Don’t wait until it’s too late to show someone that you care for them.

This is my purpose. This is why I’m here on this earth. I’ll never discover a cure for cancer. I’ll never run a marathon. I’ll never climb Mount Everest. But I will live! I will live life to the fullest - in my family - in my community - in my church. I will repair and restore. I will continue to build and rebuild. I will say “I love you” and “I’m sorry”. I will be more nobler and sweeter - not demanding my own way - not small minded nor cynical. I will live.

WE ARE FAMILY!

“We are family - I got all my sisters with me - We are family - Get up everybody and sing - We are family - I got all my sisters with me - We are family -Get up everybody and sing

Everyone can see we′re together -As we walk on by - (And) we fly just like birds of a feather - I won't tell no lie - all of the people around us they say - Can they be that close? - Just let me state for the record - We're giving love in a family dose.”

And then there were eight.

“We are family Hey, hey - I got all my sisters with me and my brothers with me -We are family -Sing it, sing it to me - Get up everybody and sing Whoo, c'mon everybody.” (Sister Sledge)

We started with nine!

I love my siblings. I have eight of them - five brothers and three sisters. This weekend we will have a sibling get together to celebrate our oldest sister’s 85th birthday and our brother-in-law’s 85th.

My parents - Stan and Alice - married in August, 1938. The kids started coming in August of 1940 and that trend didn’t stop for 18 years…….Marilyn (1940) - Bob (1943) - Susan (1945) - Brenda (1947) - Harry (1950) - Ted (1951) - Philip (1953) - Tim (1955) and me (1958). Our parents raised us to love Jesus, the local church and each other. I’m reminded of a quote by the mother of the great hymn writers/pastors - John and Charles Wesley! Susanna Wesley and her husband - Samuel - had 19 children - 9 of which died as infants. They lived in the early 1700’s and this is what Susanna said - “Though the raising of so many children must create abundance of trouble and will perpetually keep the mind employed as well as the body - yet consider that it is no small honour to be entrusted with the care of so many souls. It will certainly be no little accession to the future glory to stand forth in the last day and say “Lord, here are the children which Thou hast given me, of whom I have lost none by my ill example - nor by neglecting to install in their minds, in their early years - the principles of Thy true religion and virtue.”

Susanna - as did our parents - taught us these same virtues - gratefulness to God - kindness to siblings - how to pray - the importance of Scripture memorization and dependance on God’s provision.

We’ve had our share of joy through the years and shared some sorrow too.

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.

As siblings we made the long journey north to Red Lake - to comfort Tim’s wife and children and to comfort each other. We stood together by his coffin and greeted his friends and co-workers and neighbours. We buried our beloved brother. We were Castle Strong!

Dad’s 90th birthday.

“To the outside world we all grow old but not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always did!” (Clara Ortega) “

We’ve gone on road trips together - vacationed together - cottaged together - camped together - played together - golfed together - cheered on our favourite teams - eaten together - prayed together - cried together.

One thing we’ve never done - been angry with one another - held a grudge against one another - not spoken to each other - we are CASTLE STRONG.

When Randy died in 2014, my siblings were heartbroken for me. They shared my deep sorrow. They mourned with me. On the day of Randy’s burial in Westport they supported - not just me - but my sons as well. My brother - Ted - phoned me a few months before he passed away in 2023 to tell me something that had happened on that hot July day in Westport - where we buried Randy. My son, Zac, had slipped away from the crowd of people and was standing by himself - heartbroken, grieving, in pain - across the street - from the church. Ted noticed! Ted walked over to Zac - wrapped his arms around him - and held him while the tears poured down Zac’s face. No words were spoken for a very long time - only the power and love of an uncle’s arms around a broken nephew. As Ted recounted that story to me - we cried together - I couldn’t ever imagine a time that my siblings were not part of my life.

When Harv and I married in 2016 - all of them were there - with bells on - so happy for me to find love once again and not have to grow old alone. That same brother Ted phoned Harv one evening before our wedding and lovingly (with a tiny threat) - suggested that Harv never - ever - hurt his little sister! Another time - another brother - Bob - sat on a bench in Florida with Harv (while Lynn and I shopped) and with tears in his eyes - told Harv how grateful he was that Harv and I were married. You can’t make this stuff up. Castle Strong!

I’ve learned so much from my siblings - sometimes by asking them questions and other times by watching their lives! Marriage is for keeps! How to parent with patience and love. How to sew and knit! How to hit a 6 iron! How to play euchre and cribbage! How to train for a half marathon! That it’s okay to toss a half a glass of coke at your spouse when they are cheating at cards! How to be gracious when life is tough. The rules of all sports. How to hope when things look hopeless. How to finish something I’ve started. How to share with others less fortunate. How to tip wait staff. These things and so much more.

Another call came…..on a Saturday morning in February of 2023…...from my brother Ted himself. The pain and weight loss he had experienced - was cancer. We talked briefly and he encouraged us to be strong. The cancer took over his body quickly and less than 90 days later - Ted’s faith was sight. He was Home - in Heaven. We grieved with his wife and children and grandchildren. We grieved with each other. We grieved but not as those who have no hope. Our hope is that we will be together once again - in heaven. It’s good we are Castle Strong!

There’s a good reason we are united - together - one mind - blended - molded to each other. In fact - 169 reasons. Our family tree numbers 169 now. Even to the fourth generation, they will be reminded that their parents and aunties and uncles stood solid together - Castle Strong!

READY! SET! GO!

I loved the first day of school - new dress - new shoes - fresh pack of pencil crayons - sharpened - walking the familiar route with my best friend - excited - routine - crisp autumn air - I can picture my childhood. I loved walking into the classroom and finding my desk - the neat pile of books stacked there - math book - science book - speller - readers - history - geography - french - different coloured notebooks ready to be named - singing O Canada - reciting the Lord’s Prayer at the start of the day - meeting the new kids - I remember these things as if it were yesterday.

How have 62 years passed since my first day of kindergarten?

This is my prayer for BACK TO SCHOOL - 2025! (Borrowed from Her View From Home.)

Please let this year be gentle with our children. Fill them with confidence. Surround them with joy. Protect them in every hallway and classroom.

Make their minds curious and keep their hearts soft. Let them know they belong, exactly as they are. May they feel how deeply and truly - how loved they are.

Send them teachers who notice small wins and appreciate unseen effort. Provide them with friends who stay close on the good days and even closer on the hard ones.

Shower them with laughter and joy and all the fun of growing up.

Place in their hearts dreams big enough to chase - and faith real enough to believe they can.

And when the final bell rings, bring them safely home to the arms that love them most!

To my grandchild’s teacher (author unknown) -

As we start this new school year - I just want to say thank you in advance.

Thank you for choosing a job that is so much more than a job. Thank you for showing up for the kids who aren’t yours, and loving them like they are.

Thank you for being patient on the days when learning feels hard - for giving grace when they forget their homework - for understanding that some kids walk into your classroom carrying more than a backpack. Some carry worry. Some carry heartbreak. Some carry things too heavy for their little shoulders - yet they still show up.

Thank you for noticing - for looking beyond the test scores - the behaviour charts - the checkboxes - and seeing the actual child.

This year, you’ll be so much more than a teacher. You’ll be a safe place when life feels scary. You’ll be the voice that tells them they’re safe. You will shape how they see themselves, even when you don’t realize it yourself. Years from now, when they’re grown, they’ll still remember how you made them feel because that’s what teachers do. You leave fingerprints on hearts, not just papers.

So before the chaos begins, please know this - what you do matters more than you’ll ever see in a paycheque - it matters more than the test scores or standards - it matters in the eyes that light up when you call them by name - it matters in the confidence they carry because someone believed in them.

Here’s to a school year filled with grace, growth and kids who feel seen, heard, and deeply loved because of you.

Thank you. From a very grateful Grammie.

I loved school. I attended West Front Public school for Kindergarten - Grade two - Gladstone Public School for the last part of Grade two through Grade six - Central Public for Grades seven and eight and St. Lawrence High School for Grades 9 -13. My favourite subjects were gym - literature - music - history and geography. I struggled through physics and math but with a lot of help from teachers and friends made it through. I sang in choirs - played on sports teams - participated in musicals and plays - dissected a frog (yucky) in science class and was student council president in Grade 13. I went to OFSSA for badminton three years in a row. I remember my teachers being encouraging and kind. It was good. It was better than good.

Beginning next Tuesday morning - at 8:15 - I promise I’ll be praying for the principals - the teachers and my grandchildren - as they head out the door. It’s a promise. I’ll set my phone alarm and I won’t let them down. I’ll do my part and I pray that each of them will do their part.

And to my grandchildren - three heading into high school - two heading into middle school - and five heading to elementary school - Harv has three heading to high school and two going to primary school. I pray you’ll remember these things and put them into practice -

• In a compromised culture - stand for the truth

• In a cancelled culture - fight for your friends

• In a self-centred culture - walk humbly

• In a wavering world - trust God to give you unshakeable confidence

• In a faithless culture - be trustworthy - dependable - committed - steadfast

It’s going to be a great year!

FAITHFULNESS

My granddaughter - Indigo - comes over to our house most Sundays after church. She always asks. We always say yes! We have lunch - usually - noodles with butter - or grilled cheese - fresh red peppers - ice cream! We play games - skippo - quix - are the favourites right now. During the games, Indy likes to use Spotify and play her favourite songs. We go for a walk to the park or on the beach to the Boiler. We often watch a movie together - I nap a little bit! Then it’s time to go home.

A few weeks ago while we were out for our walk, somehow the conversation came around to when Indigo gets married - I told her I want to dance at her wedding. She quipped back quite quickly that “I’d probably be dead” (when she got married)! Smartiepants. That quip led to a conversation and I told Indigo that I want the song - THE GOODNESS OF GOD - sung by CC Winans played at my funeral. You know the time in the service when they scroll the pictures of your life? That song with the pictures!

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

'Cause 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 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, yeah

'Cause all my life You have been faithful, oh yes You have
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’ve seen God’s faithfulness all my life - just like the song says. I know how trustworthy God has been. How dependable He’s been. He’s always been the fourth Man in the fire. In the dark hours of the night - He’s been my comfort. How do I know these things? I’ve experienced it. Firsthand.

Randy and I graduated from Tyndale Bible College and Seminary in April, 1980. We began our local church ministry in September of the same year in Orillia, Ontario. Our senior pastor was Bud Hooper and his wife, Diane, and they were the most amazing senior pastor and wife to begin our ministry under. We learned so much from them - how to love our people - how to care for them - how to be gracious under stress - how to trust.

Randy’s salary wasn’t huge and early in our ministry there, I was soon expecting our first child. I didn’t work outside the home, so we depended solely on Randy’s income. We didn’t make a lot of money.

So, how did we experience God’s faithfulness? We got paid once a month - and most months - there was more month than money. By the fourth week of the month - we would have little left for groceries - so - I would pray that we would be invited out for supper or lunch or even breakfast - and - without a doubt - our calendar would fill up with invitations from our church members. Another example of God’s provision and faithfulness? In November of 1981, when I was 7 months pregnant with Zac, a delivery truck showed up in our driveway. A young man came to the door and informed me he was delivering a washing machine and a dryer! (I had been taking our clothes to the laundry mat). Someone in our church knew this and bought these two new machines so I wouldn’t have to lug our dirty clothes and soon - new baby - to the laundry mat! That washer and dryer lasted 25 years. To this day I don’t know who God asked to buy that for us. What an enormous blessing that was to us. One more example comes to mind! A doctor’s wife in our church (still in Orillia) took me under her wing……and each and every spring and fall……for several years - would take me shopping for new clothes. She would hand me $500. cash and help me find things that suited me. She knew I needed to attend events with Randy and didn’t have the clothes to wear. I’ll never forget her generosity and her obedience to God’s prompting to bless me. I was more than grateful.

It wasn’t just material blessings though! Many times we received encouraging notes and letters from our church. They encouraged us to keep relying on God’s faithfulness even during difficult times - to trust God always even in the storms of life - to have unshakeable confidence in God even when the world and our culture seemed to waver.

We saw God’s faithfulness when our kids were sick…..and we trusted in the Great Physician for healing…..when our hearts tugged at us to call the doctor - not to delay. Once when Ben was just past two, he was sick for a few days……fever, stomach upset, not eating or drinking much. It was the summer time. I took him to Emergency and after running a few tests, they told me he didn’t have an infection - he would be himself in a day or two. Two days would pass and he wasn’t himself. I took him back to the hospital and this time the doctor didn’t send us home. Ben was admitted for dehydration. He needed “intravenous” for a couple of days before he was himself again. Zac developed asthma as a young boy and more than once we made a trip to the hospital - it seemed - in the middle of the night. When Zac was about 7 or 8 we were referred to a special in London and Dr. Ecklestone and his team made a tremendous difference in Zac’s fight with asthma. He often called me to check in on Zac.

Our church here in Kincardine is doing a series this summer on the fruit of the Spirit. Our pastor has challenged us each Sunday with this thought - “the fruit of the Spirit should be the characteristics of Christians because the fruit are the character of God.” Things like - love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness and then, this past week - faithfulness.

I never imagined that Randy would die in his 50’s. I never imagined I would be a widow at 56! I never imagined I would meet someone new! I never imagined I would remarry! I never imagined I would move to Kincardine! I never imagined I would add bonus children and grandchildren to my life. I didn’t imagine any of these things but they all happened and through each stage - God remained faithful to me. Isaiah 26:3 - (My Mom’s favourite verse) says: “You will keep her in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You.”

I don’t know what the future holds but I know Who holds my future. And so - Indy - I may or may not be around in twenty years to dance at your wedding - but I might be - I hope I am - I pray I am. But if I’m not - remember to play the song at my service! Remember our conversation! It’s my testimony. It’s my song! It’s my truth.

KIDS THESE DAYS

Kids these days are different from us!

Remember growing up in the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s! We rode in cars with no seat belts or air bags. We rode in the back of the car - loose! We drank water from the garden hose. We shared our soft drink with all our friends (and no one died). We ate cakes, white bread with real butter and drank pop but we weren’t overweight - we were always outside playing. We would leave the house in the morning - come home for lunch - go back outside until supper - and then outside until the street lights came on. Our parents didn’t worry about us - we were in the neighbourhood somewhere. We climbed trees - sometimes fell out of them - played with worms and mud pies made from the dirt - made up games with sticks and tennis balls - and although we were told it would happen - we did not poke out any eyes. We rode our bikes to our friend’s houses and knocked on the door or just walked right in. We had freedom - failure - success - responsibility and we learned how to deal with it all.

Kids these days are different from us! And that’s okay! Every generation that has ever lived has been different from the one before and the one after. And that’s okay! Being different is fine. Each family in each generation has the wonderful task and responsibility to raise their kids accordingly.

My mother-in-law and my mother were so gracious to me when I was raising my children. They gave advice when I asked. They helped where they could. They were encouraging and loving and an inspiration to me and they allowed me the opportunity to parent my boys the way I thought best for my family. Of course - it was very similar to the way they parented. I learned from the best.

When it was my time to be the grandparent and not the mother - I read a sentence in a book that resonated with me - “You, dear woman, had the opportunity to raise your family - in your way - in your time - - - now, give your children that same opportunity to raise theirs! You might not always agree with the methods or standards or guidelines in their homes, but it’s their home! Your role now is to encourage, love, pray, bless and commend!” And that’s what I try to do - encourage, love, pray, bless and commend.

Regardless of what generation you grew up in or living in the generation that is upon us - I love that Solomon - the wisest man who ever lived - gives us fantastic advice for children and their parents. My Dad - Stan Castle - was asked once to give the speech at a wedding and he said this - “May you both have the patience of Job - the wisdom of Solomon - and the children of Israel!” Patience and wisdom being the key parts to Dad’s advice! King Solomon asked the Lord for wisdom rather than riches or power but God gave him all three.

While achievements are important, King Solomon emphasized the need to prioritize a child’s heart and character - encouraging building kindness, compassion, gratefulness, generosity and to appreciate blessings in their lives.

Here are the things Randy and I instilled in the lives of our sons when we were young parents!

#1. Relationship and trust in God. Proverbs 3:5,6 “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make straight your paths.” Our sons attended church and Sunday school from Day one - almost from the first week of their lives. We taught them early to love God and to love the local church. We taught them to depend on God - to pray about everything - to be thankful for His good gifts to our family.

#2. Having integrity and honesty. Proverbs 28:6 “Better is a poor man who walks in integrity than a rich man who is crooked in his ways.” Teaching children to be honest and trustworthy is crucial for their well-being and for the benefit of those they live with. Imagine having all the money in the world but being a liar and a cheat?

#3. All about wisdom. Proverbs 22:6 “Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.” The values and principles that are instilled in a toddler/young child will shape their lives as adult. This training involves teaching them to discern right from wrong, make wise choices and to live with integrity. So needed in every generation….men and women who are wise. The habits, beliefs and behaviours we instill during a child’s formative years have a lasting impact.

#4. About work. Proverbs 6:6 “Go to the ant, O sluggard; consider her ways and be wise.” When the boys were young, they had jobs to do around the house and those jobs were charted on the fridge…..stickers indicated the completion of each job….a reward (payday) was given when the required number of stickers was reached. They learned early they had responsibilities - make their beds - put away toys and sports equipment - wash or dry the dishes - show gratefulness - etc. They learned to work in small ways so that when the big chores came along, they were ready - in school - in sports - while working at camps - in their grown up life.

#5. Model it! Proverbs 20:7 “The righteous who walks in his integrity - blessed are his children after him.” Children watch everything a parent does and they take their cues from them. When spouses love each other - their kids see this. How parents speak to others and about others - kids hear that. Our kids are watching our every move - they will watch what we watch - they will read what we read - they will speak what we speak - they will go where we go.

My very favourite proverb that King Solomon wrote is this - “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” Proverbs 4:23. Another version puts it this way - “Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life.” Our heart is the source of all decisions, emotions and actions. So much is riding on keeping the hearts of our children free from destructive influences. Randy and I wanted our voice to ring in the ears of our sons - not the media - not their friends - not the environment - our voice.

Regardless of the generation I grew up in or the generation my sons grew up in or now, the generation my grandchildren are growing up in - these truths of King Solomon do not change. God help us to pray for - encourage - cheer on these dear ones to walk in the ways of wisdom - act justly - love mercy and walk humbly.

MAKE GOOD MEMORIES - JOLLIFFE CAMP #13 IN THE BOOKS

Over and over again in my mind - I hear my Mom’s voice - “make good memories!”

When my Mom lived with Harv and I for the last three months of her life, she spent most of her time in bed. She was 100 and a half. She would say while her body was frail and failing her - her mouth could still work very well. And - while her short term memory was pretty pooched - she could remember events from 95 years ago. She repeated the same seven or eight stories over and over again. When she wasn’t telling us those stories, she would rest - not sleeping but eyes closed - and I knew she was thinking of days gone by. Sometimes her frustration would leak out and she would lament that she was only a fragment of her former self. This same woman who bore 9 children - raised them on my dad’s salary - cooked and baked for eleven plus every meal - washed the clothes in a wringer washer - and then hung them on the clothes line every day of the year - this same woman who had been a super woman - now struggled to push her walker so she could walk to the washroom.

But - while Mom had failed physically, she hadn’t failed emotionally or mentally and continued to encourage her family until the very end. Remember - her tongue worked very well.

One morning as I was lying beside her in her bed, we talked of ageing gracefully - what it felt to be nearing the end of one’s life - grandparenting and leaving a legacy for your family.

Ten years before Mom came to live with us - we had our first three grandchildren - Sara in Feb. - Levi and Talia - both born in June - 2011. Over the course of those first few months, Randy and I came up with the plan to begin JOLLIFFE CAMP. We would keep the cousins for a night or two (to bless us) and give the parents much needed time away (blessing them). And so it began - July 2012 was our very first camp - three toddlers.

2012

Randy and I began Jolliffe camp with these three. We spent three days and two nights with these three. Three high chairs. Three Pack-n-plays! Three of a lot of things. Plenty of time outside. Plenty of time at the park. Yummy snacks and meals. Naps. And bedtime? Each little one had their favourite story and favourite song. I went between the three of them - reading and snuggling and singing until 6 little eyes were heavy and closed. I remember they were good sleepers and didn’t wake us up in the night.

Most of our marriage - Randy and I managed to squeeze in a night or two a year away from the children - to focus on each other and allow others to love on our kids. It was what we wanted for our own sons and their spouses as well. Parents need time away from their kids to recharge - benefitting both themselves and their children. Spouses need to rebuild connection with each other that sometimes is more difficult when the challenges of raising the kids are prevalent. Conversely - kids need some time away from their parents as well - to learn to be flexible and more adaptable - to learn to trust others - to give themselves different responsibilities and most important - that they see that Dad and Mom need time alone.

2013 - we had the same three - only now they were two year olds. Much different than the first summer of camp - two year olds can talk - listen to (some) instructions - use the potty - eat and sleep on some sort of schedule - laugh - play games - interact with each other. These cousins loved playing together. The following quote came up on my facebook page today - “Day One of Camp Jolliffe is in the books - three little munchins all sleeping - so tired from all that playing...going to finish the dishes - do a load of laundry - then watch the Blue Jays with Grampie.”

2013

In 2014, we were scheduled for the third instalment of Jolliffe Camp with five grandchildren planning to arrive in July - but that all changed when Randy collapsed and passed away. Instead, later that same month, we were blessed by someone from our church to use their cottage for a week in Muskoka - so we could all be together. That began the new chapter for our family regarding summer cousin camp. Jolliffe camp was not something I could do by myself. Grandparenting solo was not easy and not fun. We would continue our dream - only now - the parents should join me. Their weekends away by themselves would take place during the year - one family at a time.

2015/2016 - Jolliffe camp in Cuba

Jolliffe camp - eastern Ontario - 2017

2018 - the last two of the ten joined our family and we celebrated Jolliffe camp in the Dominican Republic - celebrating my 60th birthday.

Jolliffe camp in Kincardine -2019

We all remember what happened in 2020! Even in 2021 it was hard to get everyone together in the same space!

Jolliffe camp in eastern Ontario - 2022

Jolliffe camp - 2023 - Canada’s Wonderland

2025

Someday - when my own faith in Jesus is sight - when I’ve crossed the River to the Celestial City - I hope my kids and grandkids speak of the years we celebrated life together - when we laughed and cried - when we stayed up too late around the campfire - when we built sand castles - when we swam in the big Lake Huron waves - when we crammed around two tables eating good food - when we competed in the Jolliffe games - when we hugged on each arrival and hugged on the departures - when we slept on couches or on the floor or in a bed - I hope and pray - they’ll say - “Jolliffe camp - where cousins became friends - was the best part of our summer!”

This Grammie has a grateful heart.

It was a good tradition to begin. May there be many, many more!

MY CAMINO - REVISITED

Exactly one year ago today - I flew to Europe, along with two of my sons, for the adventure of a lifetime. After planning for 18 months - more accurately, ten years or more, our journey began with an overnight flight to Europe - landing in Porto, Portugal and then, taking a short three hour drive over the border into Spain.

For hundreds of years the scallop shell has been a symbol of courage, strength and hope for the pilgrims who walk the Camino. This shell is found on the coast of Galacia. We found a shell on the beach in Porto, before we started walking and then bought a shell on our first day of walking the path to fasten to our backpacks.

My backpack weighted about 14 pounds. At times as I walked the pack felt as light as a feather and at other times, it felt like I was carrying the weight of the whole world. I thought long and hard about what I would carry and really - I don’t think I overpacked. Three pairs of shorts - two long sleeved shirts to wear for sun protection - 2 short sleeves for evenings - 1 sleeveless for the last day - a towel and sheet - 3 pairs of socks - 3 pairs of underwear - my hat - shoes/sandals and water bladder. That’s it. Oh, a few products for the face and skin! For ten days!

It made me think about carrying extra baggage that we sometimes lug around and become encumbered with! Extra things that weigh us down! Things we don’t need! Envy! Strife! Unforgivenss! Hardness of Heart! Pride! Revenge! Selfishness! Jealousy! I’ve named a few things I’ve carried at times! What joy - what bliss - though - when that backpack came off at the rest stops - at lunch - at the end of the day! What joy to forever empty our lives when we stop carrying those things that weigh us down. It was Corrie ten Boom who said “You will find it is necessary to let things go, simply for the reason that they are too heavy.”

Five days! 120 kms! 175,242 steps!

Some of those kms and steps were filled with joy and wonder and laughter and chatter - but on day 3 - there were tears - (by Momma)! It was super hard. My right knee was kicking up a fuss. My hips hurt. My blisters were bugging me! I knew I wouldn’t quit but it was slow going. It was a 30 km day from the early morning (6:30 am) until 3:00 in the afternoon. Up and down hills! On paths of pavement and stones and dirt! My boys encouraged me. They offered to carry my pack ( I didn’t let them)! They made me laugh. I put my head down and finished that leg of the journey. It wasn’t terribly pretty but I got ‘er done.

When we arrived at our accommodations that day - the manager told us that of the 51 people staying there that night - we were the only ones who carried our packs. The rest had had them shipped. The boys teased me lots because I definitely judged those who walked without carrying their packs! They reminded me that everyone walks their own Camino! :)

Isn’t this just like real life. Some days - it’s all sunshine and roses. It’s a Mary Poppins type of day. Laughter and joy and peace and happiness. Other days - it’s grey - it’s windy - it’s cold - it’s heavy - a day you just have to get through. What I learned about myself on Day 3 was that I could withstand the difficulty and finish. It’s not in my nature to quit and I didn’t. Don’t you either.

I often think of Christian in the book - Pilgrim’s Progress - when he came upon the Hill Difficulty! This is what he said -

"This hill, though high, I covet to ascend;
The difficulty will not me offend,
For I perceive the way to life lies here:
Come, pluck up, heart, let's neither faint nor fear!
Better, though difficult, the right way to go,
Than wrong, though easy, where the end is woe."

Our final destination was Santiago de Compostela - a wonderful, ancient city, with the exquisite Baroque cathedral towering over the esplanade. It was a moment for smiles and hugs! We made it.

The words of Psalm 23 came to my mind! The Lord is my Shepherd. I have all that I need. He lets me rest in green pastures. He leads me beside peaceful streams. He renews my strength. He guides me along right paths - bringing honour to His Name. Even when I walk through the darkest valley - I will not be afraid, for You are close beside me. Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me. You prepare a feast for me in the Presence of my enemies. You honour me by anointing my head with oil. My cup overflows with blessings. Surely Your goodness and mercy and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life and I will live in the house of the Lord forever.”

We ended this fantastic dream of mine with a couple of days of rest and relaxation in Barcelona - taking in two wonderful, meaningful sights - FAMILIA SAGRADA AND MONTSERRAT MONASTERY.

It was a journey of a lifetime.