The other night we (and by we, I mean my sister from Mississauga and I) decided to have a lovely evening ‘just for us’.  Why not?  Life itself is a celebration.  Just the fact that we got up that morning.  The fact that my sister was visiting. The fact that my mom was flying in from Sun Peaks at suppertime. The fact that my daughter was exhausted and needed a reprieve.  Because it wasn’t pouring rain.  Because there were no bombs dropping around us. Because we didn’t need to visit someone in a hospice.  Because there were no fires burning in our neighborhood.  We decided to make it special and accidentally went all out.  I purposely  go all out for other people all the time.  I host bridal showers and baby showers and teas and dinner parties and anniversaries and Christmas and farewell parties.  Let’s not forget Valentines, a perfect excuse to make beautiful. Its my thing.  It all started back when mom used to get me to decorate for my dad’s company Christmas parties that were usually held at our house. I made decor out of whatever I could find in the house.  I also used to put on plays for my parents complete with sets, backdrops, costumes and songs I had written.  I bribed all my siblings into being the actors. So, you see,  this has been going on for quite some time.

What is it about August? There is something romantic, deep and residing about August. Historically, August days are usually sort of hot and dry and meant for reflection and just lolly gagging in general. A great month for the taking of summer vacations. June and July are usually having an identity crisis…are we summer or are we not? But August knows. August feels like deep inspiration and wisdom. August reminds me of a prophet warning us that autumn is on the cusp and take advantage of these lazy hazy crazy days now. Take time to watch the sunrise. Take time to soak up the heat. Take time to let your toes play in the grass, the breeze, the sand or the water. Let your hair blow in the wind…don’t take yourself or life too seriously in August. Get lost in a great story. Don’t think about September at all. Just live in the moment. Get married. Have a baby. Visit your great aunt and have tea on the porch. Swing. Water the flowers. This is not a time for cleaning the basement or painting the living room or doing a financial audit. It’s a time to have afternoon naps or pick berries and make pies. It’s a time to go fishing. These words come to mind “Summertime and the living is easy, fish are jumping and the cotton is high….” Put away all the trappings of the city and the hustle and bustle and slow down. Slow waaaay down. Listen to the birds and the crickets and the frogs. Listen to the night sounds as you lay on top of your sheets with the windows open and the fans whirring in the background. Better yet…sleep outside on the porch or the deck or the dock. Pick flowers – fill your surroundings with the sweet smell and luscious color of bunches of blooms. Paint…write…quilt on the porch. Wave to passersby. August doesn’t require hosiery, belts, stillettos or ties. Wrap yourself in flowing cool white linen or cotton and hide under a great big brim. Get out the lemonade and sip slowly savoring every drop. August is a time for abiding…abiding with our favorite peeps, abiding with the Lord, abiding with what is. Living in the moment. It’s a time of preserving. Whether its fresh fruit or fresh friendships…..preserve. It’s a time for deep meaningful growth. What you do in August will live with you for the rest of the year. It will sustain you during the hard, cold, busy winter season. August is wisdom and healing and restoration.

We started the day with hope and promise and a car loaded to the ceiling. We made our usual stop at Starbucks as we firmly believe that every good journey starts with Starbucks. We were clipping along at a good pace, enjoying the scenery and conversation when we eventually caught up to an extremely long line of traffic. As far as the eye could see. Winding through the mountains. After finding the traffic report on the radio we realized that the highway ahead was planning to be closed for another three hours due to a fatal collision on the highway. We weren’t going anywhere. Well…. not fast.

So I dragged out my Belle Amore magazine and began to read inspiration about the beautiful life. It was a wonderful distraction, Of course my husband is getting antsy as he cannot endure standing around doing nothing…with circumstances out of his control. Nobody particularly enjoys waiting. Especially when you’re excited to get to your relaxing vacation spot. But we were forced to wait. People were turning off their engines and getting out of their cars and conversing with each other. But waiting.

We all have to spend time waiting. Waiting at the doctors office. Waiting for kids to come home for Christmas or other holidays. Waiting for the roast to cook. Waiting for our next paycheque. Waiting for God to answer our prayers. What are we going to do with this waiting time? We can use this time productively and enjoy it or we can anxiously get perturbed and impatient. Don’t tell my husband, but I actually quite enjoyed our 3.5 hours inching along the highway, reading inspiration for my life with my hand hanging out the open window. I found it very relaxing and enjoyable and was glad for the time to get off the treadmill and unwind.

Finally, the traffic started to move faster than 1 mph. We were on our way. We passed the leftover half-of-a-car from the car wreck and cringed. I was sort of glad we didn’t get to see more of what occurred. It couldn’t have been pretty. Tragic for somebody’s family. And I was reminded of all the answers to prayer I’ve enjoyed after praying for safety for my own travellers. We picked up speed and were elated to be moving towards our vacation destination. About forty five minutes after we recovered our speed we heard a loud thunk as if we had hit a huge rock or dead body. What was that? Mike pulled over because he felt there was a problem with the tire. Sure enough. The tire had blown. Flatter than a piece of copy paper. Seriously?

We were fully loaded so we proceeded to remove everything from the back of the vehicle so we could get at the spare tire. Luckily my husband is handy with the car jack and and lug nut wrench. We, and by we, I mean Mike, changed the tire and reloaded the car and were on our way. The Infinity manual suggested not driving faster than 80 kph on the spare. Mike thought it felt weirder than it should so he pulled over again and realized the air pressure was only 30 whatever’s and it should have been 60 whatever’s. Once again, we were in luck. Mike had his bike tire pump with us so he pumped up the spare tire to 60 and we began creeping along the highway in the dark. The traffic was horrendous due to the road closure and delay and they were coming up fast and furious so Mike was compelled to constantly pull over to let semis and buses and SUV’s pass. We were getting a little freaked out so we took a vote and decided to pullover where it was safe and spend the night in the car. Things would look better in the light of day we reasoned. We had reason to believe that the other three tires might also be compromised so it was quite stressful.

We pulled into a lit parking lot at Rogers Pass and proceeded to try to get a few hours of sleep. Mom happened to have quilts in the car that she was bringing to her brothers so those came in handy as the coolness set in. The plan was to pray our way to Revelstoke at day break on the full size donut and see if anyone happened to have the unusual size tire needed to complete our set. And that’s exactly what we did. I could feel the stress in the front seat as Mike creeped his way along the highway. We arrived in Revelstoke far too early for anything to be open but were relieved we were at least in civilization again. We stopped for a relaxing breakfast and regaled each other with accounts of our aches and pains from sleeping sitting up in the car all night. And I use the term sleeping loosely. When the small town finally came to life we set out to locate tires. No luck.

So we prayed our way to Sicamous. Same story. Nothing. What choice did we have? We prayed our way to Salmon Arm. We were getting more confident and thought we might even venture all the way to Kamloops on the spare. But we found four tires the size we needed in Salmon Arm and made the decision to replace all. What if Kamloops didn’t have any?

Inching along the highway on a spare and a prayer reminded me how we, as believers, move through life. We are forced to trust God at every turn. Or just despair. But we chose to believe and trust God would have his hand upon us. Well, I did anyway and I’m pretty sure I sensed a prayer covering coming from the exact spot where mom sat in the back seat. I, personally, believe HE allows circumstances that will force us to turn to Him, especially when we have no other choice. Then He has has us right where He wants us. Trusting Him. And there is no greater confidence than true trust in God.

Well we hit the highway out of Salmon Arm with renewed confidence and speed knowing we were cruising on four brand new tires with a warranty. Amazing how that knowledge changed everything. I could see the stress leaving Mike’s shoulders and brow. It was not lost on me how we can fly through life with that same confidence when we know that He has us in the palm of His hand.

It it really is about the journey more than the destination, but the destination makes the journey worthwhile,

I sit here under my sister’s spacious gazebo, my outdoor sanctuary, for this mornings installment of my retreat vacation and I have no choice but to listen to the birds. They are a choir, each with their own harmony. I don’t think they have twitter accounts but they’ve been tweeting all morning. Several are feasting on the fresh seeds that were just set out for them. I hear the soothing coos of the neighbors morning dove. City noises fill the air but I’m good with it. It makes me feel that all is as it should be. Landscapers mowing lawns, vent guys cleaning vents, large trees swaying the the breeze (yes, thank you Lord for the refreshing, calming breeze), kids laughing. The GO train zooming by with the click of the tracks and the roar of the engine and once it has passed almost a dead quiet again except for the birds. I may even hear a woodpecker. Did I mention we are under the flight path for the airport? So I hear planes high in the sky. People going places. Going on vacations just like mine. Some going for business. Some going for relationships. Some going on adventures. Some escaping and some coming home again.

It’s not scorchingly hot and humid this morning so it is quite pleasant to relax with a purpose. Purpose being to read. To write. To journal. To watch tutorials I’m always too distracted to watch at home. I have no agenda here. Well none other than my own and I’m not attacking it but rather embracing it and pacing myself. Being spontaneous, which is not natural for me. Every now and then I hear a car leaving its driveway and remind myself that I have no where else to be. I’m already here. No timetable to follow.

I rest here on this beautiful plush beach towel surrounded by my favorite things. Magazines, inspirational reading, journals, an ice cold grapefruit water and some licorice. A pencil case full of pens and highlighters. Tall full, lush trees…a private forest. Ivy climbing up the house and fence. Oodles of cushions to add color and comfort to this outdoor living space. Two swings I’m tempted to spend some time on, giving me a full view of the garden alive with lettuce, tomatoes, zucchini and pumpkins. Since my sister is the queen of mini lights, the garden yard lends itself nicely to twilight.

I’m not starving. Quite the opposite. I have fifty pounds worth of clothes in my suitcase, so, ample. I have a comfortable bed to sleep in, courtesy of my niece whose been relegated to the basement for my stay. We walked to Streetsville for a Starbucks this evening. Walking indicating health. Starbucks indicating wealth. And I’m so grateful for this ‘state of the union’ in my life.

I’m grateful for the people in my life. I’m grateful for the love in my life. I’m grateful for the faith in my life. I’m grateful that He will never leave or forsake us. So He’s with me matter what, no matter why, no matter when. I truly do have everything thing I need. And I’m learning to make this everything I want.

I told my family I needed a vacation. In my heart of hearts, I was thinking heat on my skin, soft smooth, warm sand between my toes, azure blue water as far as the eye can see, waves rushing to shore revealing beautiful shells when rolled back again (plus that soothing rhythm to lull you to sleep at night), palm trees swaying in the breeze. Fruity, refreshing, iced drinks to sip on for hours… that sort of thing. But that was not something that was going to materialize for us or me at this juncture so they offered to send me to connect with my siblings in a city where three of them lived. Any change of scenery, I thought, would be healing and life giving. I’ve felt that this past fifteen months had sucked the life out of me. Just get me on a plane to anywhere but here.

After I arrived I was explaining to my sister how I badly needed a vacation. I know people that know me and my situation are thinking to themselves…. from what? You haven’t had a real job for over a year. Haven’t you been on vacation? My sister quipped… perhaps you do not understand the concept of the vacation. Essentially It’s a break from working all the time. Oh shut up! It’s a break from anything that has you bound. Just waiting alone at the airport (with a million other travellers) I could feel the tension leaving my psyche. I was excited to wake up somewhere different.

Not that I love flying. I’m not afraid of flying, I just hate the whole process but it is one of the best ways to get far away. Personally, I love road trips. I love cruising down on the highway on a bright sunny day, sipping a cool peach green tea lemonade singing along with the Carpenters as I admire, in awe, the majestic Rocky Mountains. I think I know the words to every single Carpenter song by heart. BUT driving would have cost considerably more than this bargain basement flight to Toronto that I managed to book on airmiles. (Plus the Rockies are in the opposite direction).

So here I am.

My goal for this getaway was really a self induced intervention. I knew it was time to change my paradigms and with those, my pursuits and actions. What better way to implement these changes than to hit the reset button? Anne Lamott (a cleverly, irreverent Christian writer) is quoted as having said, ‘Amost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you.’ So I am unplugged for a couple of weeks in the hopes of working again when I get home. I’m not referencing work as in ‘job’ but rather I will function better in life, once again. Not that it won’t involve some income producing work but I’m more focused on working as a whole, emotional healthy, human being. I’ve been believing lies about myself and my circumstances for too long.

I have to admit that I am quite excited to embark on my new journey. I’m ready for change. It’s been said that ‘Insanity is to keep doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results.’ Im pretty sure I’m not insane…by my standards anyway. Some may beg to differ.

I’ve assessed the ruts I’ve been stuck in. The thoughts that have been overpowering me. The way I talk to myself and I must say, it’s almost as if I’ve been locked in a prison cell and the key was in my back pocket all along. I’m looking forward to freedom. I’m wanting to break the chains of society’s expectations of me and follow where my heavenly Father is leading instead. This truly requires a paradigm shift.

In the meantime. I’m spending my days away lollyagging in my sisters newly renovated parlour, watching Netflix and HBO. Sitting under her outdoor gazebo reading, writing, and journaling with her garden hose mister keeping me cool and refreshed. Going to baseball games. Lovely walks through the quaint little village within a city where my sister and her husband live. Planning mermaid parties for my young nieces. Having long, meaningful talks with my sweet adult niece and her mom, my sister. We are solving the worlds problems. We are getting quite good at it. Well, at the very least, our own.

I sitting here listening to relaxing music which is causing me to doze in and out of consciousness as I write. Almost as if I didn’t have a care in the world. The fan keeping me cool. Surrounded by books, magazines, snacks , Eiffel towers, candles, mini lights, and peonies. This may not be the Carribean or the French Riviera but it feels like an all inclusive resort with the most personal touch. People hug me here. Unplugged and loving it.

Bravo. A word with Italian origins from the word brave. Brave, a word that means possessing courage or courageous endurance; making a fine appearance.

Who am I to talk about being brave? I’ve felt like a fearful wimp all my life. Afraid to go out of my comfort zone. Afraid of the unknown. Afraid of people, strangers. Afraid of suffering. Afraid of ridicule. This fear is probably why I prefer to have every detail of every little thing planned to the last detail so I know what to expect. So I can plan a method of coping or navigating said thing. In fact that’s what I think control is all about. I try to control situations so I can cope with them. Something I can control doesn’t seem so scary. I’ve spent countless hours of emotional energy making my world safe, which is a false pretense at best. I can’t make my world safe.

We live in a scary world full of unknowns but also full of scary knowns. We know there is evil out there. We know there is disease out there. We know there are humans without much humanity. We know there are natural disasters. We know there are liars and thieves and murderers. We are extremely vulnerable.

I remember watching old western movies and thinking about how scary it would be to live in an era or culture where everyone carried guns and could shootup a whole town on a whim. Or hang people or decapitate them or scalp them…. hello? Sound familiar?

We’ve often heard the axiom that a person is afraid of their own shadow. You cannot get away from your own shadow. It follows you everywhere. I am even afraid of certain circumstances that I set in motion. Often, I’m afraid of expectations that I invented and now can’t live up to.

I was brave once. I was brave because I was afraid. Afraid of the consequences of not being brave… if that makes any sense. So I mustered up every ounce of courage I could manufacture and fought to the death for something I truly believed in. It felt good to be brave, as difficult as it was. It was empowering. It was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done but on the other side of true bravery is self esteem. On the other side of bravery is confidence. On the other side of bravery is wisdom. On the other side of bravery is more bravery. But we have to keep being brave or we slip back into fear and uncomfortable comfort. As I have.

I want to do something brave again. Recently I read an article in a magazine about a female rower that’s going to row across the Pacific Ocean in 2019. All alone. She explained her sleeping accommodations (on board) and her food provisions and said she was collecting 150 audio books to keep her company as this would take a few months. I thought to myself… wait? What? She explained how friends and family were fearful she was planning for her watery grave. But she’s still going. I was inspired. It reminded me of Esther from the bible. When she realized she had to be brave to save her people. Her response? “If I die, I die”. She knew she was put in her exact circumstances ‘for such a time as this’.

Another story, turned movie that stayed with me was the story of the woman who went on a hike from Mexico to Seattle or the other way around. She went all alone, although there were other groups doing this hike. She was not a hiker previously. This was all foreign to her. I believe it took her 3 months. All alone in the wilderness. It changed her life. What possesses people to embark on these journeys? To those of us comfortable in our self-made, falsely safe comfort zones, our first reaction is insanity. But possibly there is something in all of us or out of us that wants to do something brave or just be brave. To believe for something different. Something better.

I think I’m ready to do something brave again. Im not thinking of crossing the Pacific in a rowboat or wandering in the wilderness for 3 months. But even to just believe I could be different than I am. Brave enough to change. Brave enough to sacrifice creature comforts for a greater good. Brave enough to venture into something unknown to me. Expand my comfort zone. Brave enough to not be afraid of the future even if it looks very different from my past. Any uncharted territory is scary the first time. Brave enough to shake the shackles from my past away. Brave enough to forge a new reality and a new comfort zone. And yes, it’s scary and uncomfortable… thus the bravery. For such a time as this.