It has been so long since I have written anything.  I have a million thoughts in my head that bubble and brew  while I am driving or sitting in church listening to worship again or going out in the world where I haven’t been for months or sitting in my studio watching Hallmark movies and creating.  This is when feelings and revelations and thoughts merge in the creative side of my brain and if I don’t sit down and write it all down that very moment…the moment is gone.  I haven’t received many inspirational creative insights that I have felt would be worth sharing with the world (ok- my 25 followers) – lately.  
I am not going to harp on the fact that 2020 has been the weirdest year ever…oops,  I just did…but it has.  I don’t even know what to make of it.  Just when I think I have it kinda of sorted out….another curve ball comes right at me and down I go. I thought I was better at dodging that that.  But I am not as quick on my feet as I used to be.  I am also not very quick at changing tracks in my heart and mind either.  Its a very difficult thing.  I’m still searching for my sea legs. 
But here we are in November of 2020.  Interesting, how we thought the world was coming to an end twenty years ago on the stroke of midnight.  Interestingly enough,  it almost seemed like people were disappointed that none of the horrific predictions came true. After they hoarded generators and water and food.  Funny,  toilet paper was not on the hoarding list back then. Everything just went on as it always had.  Cars kept running.  Clocks kept running.  Household appliances kept running.  Electricity kept coming on.  Toilets kept flushing. Hospitals kept functioning.  Airplanes still lifted off the runways. 
But this!  What’s going on today.   THIS is a little more like what I think people were expecting on December 31 at 12:00am in the year 2000. We actually could never have imagined what we are going through now.  Now ‘they’ are trying to cancel Christmas.  That’s where I draw the line.  ‘They’ might make socializing with my family illegal and slap us with huge fines for loving to be with our family but that cannot stop Christmas in my heart.  And that is where Christmas is found anyway.  Just ask the Grinch.  Or Johnny Mathis….We need a little Christmas, right this very moment, We need a little Christmas NOW.

How about these past six months dear folks? Unprecedented is a word that has been tossed around a lot. Unprecedented for this generation. The world has gone through worse and similar and survived. What choice did it have?

But us? Living in these times? I have asked the Father – as I’m sure many of you have – what am I to make of all of this? What am I to do? You see what’s happening down here and I don’t believe you are sitting up there having a good chuckle. I believe your heart is breaking to watch how we have struggled with all of this. I have to believe that you well know that there will be those of us that will mine for deep treasure and you will rejoice when we discover it because it is there. And you will sigh that it was worth it. And eventually, so will we.

I don’t know about you but my previous normal was filled to overflowing with self-indulgence and self-sufficiency. My measuring stick for the good life, my own comfort and ease. My own happiness. With a very low tolerance for pain and inconvenience. My mantra was more is better. And don’t mess up my indulged existence. Even as a believer who maintains trust in God i was taking care of business myself. Exhausting myself trying to make life happen the way I thought it should. And actually still wondering, what was I missing? Why was I making myself cozy down here when the Word clearly states that this world is not my home and that I can’t take anything with me. To not store up for myself treasures on earth but rather invest in the eternal. Treasures in heaven. It was like I was procrastinating. I had the head knowledge but not the heart experience.

In these short six months which have felt like six long years, the Father has made me so very aware of my misguided motivations and outcomes. He has been able to touch my heart.   I remember when my daughter was about five, we watched a movie where death was involved so I was compelled to explain to her what death was all about. When I was done she said ‘ so you mean eventually we are all going to die anyway?’ Yes, honey. She looked around the room and said ‘so what are we collecting all this stuff for?’ Indeed. Out of the mouths of babes.

In these six months I have come to realize what I can live without. What I can do without and where I don’t need to go and what I don’t need to do. All it took was six months of deprivation to realize I wasn’t really deprived at all. I’ve been able to focus on what’s important instead of what’s superficial. I mean, when you can’t get together with people and can’t go to social events or anywhere for that matter, you quickly learn what it’s like not to ‘put on the dog’ so to speak. Who am I trying to impress? Deeper yet… why am I trying to impress? Freedom. Now we are just so glad to see people we don’t care what they look like. Barbara Streisand used to sing that song ‘people who need people are the luckiest people on the world’ and life is truly about relationship. Our relationship with the Father and our relationship with others. Not just our loved ones but all of mankind. What we think of them and how we treat them and how we live life with them.

Eating is one thing that hadn’t been banned so we’ve been eating like it’s our job (since that is another thing that was taken away). We grocery shop because it was the only place we could go. We found comfort in food and baking and cooking. I’ve gone all Mormon on us and now have reserves in the basement to last us all winter. Sounds like a wise plan actually, but then there is this nagging story about the Israelites that keeps haunting me. Them and the manna. Don’t take more than you need for one day… the Lord will provide. Your excess will rot if you get greedy. What’s that repugnent smell coming from the closet? The basement? The garage?

Man looks at the outward appearance but God looks at the heart. Very often I was out of touch with my very own heart. I was looking at my very own outward appearance and making assumptions of what was expected. These six months have helped me get in touch with my own heart. I am grateful for that. I never had time to spend six seconds pondering my motivations or my satisfaction level with the results. Now I’ve had six months. I was getting to the top of the ladder ok but it was up against the wrong wall.

I’ve done one purge since all this began, given I was spending copious amounts of time at home and all this stuff was closing in on me , screaming ‘you can’t take me with you’. And ‘all this stuff used to be money which you could have invested eternally’ and similar corrections. So I am compelled to do another purge because too much stuff occupies too much head and heart space. Where your treasure is there too will be your heart. Stuff is not my treasure. My people and my faith are my treasure. Even I was having a hard time realizing this when caught in the trap of self indulgence and self sufficiency.

But Father knows best. He knows we needed to be extracted from the rat race because we were exhausting ourselves running around in circles and believing there was no finish line. Just faster and faster and more and more. And who cares who you step on getting to the imaginary finish line for the imaginary win. Get off the track, breathe, rest, watch. What do you see? What I saw was a misguided, exhausted, fearful competitor that was looking for a better way. Relieved to actually be taken out of the race. I’m not a runner. I’m a walker. And I want to walk with my good, good Father. I want to hear his voice. Glean from HIs wisdom. Be guided by his truth and act accordingly.

I have to say I am slightly baffled as to the uproar regarding wearing masks.  One of the biggest complaints I hear is ‘no one can see who I really am’.  I’ve lost my identity. Really?  Most of us have been hiding behind emotional masks for decades.  Many of us don’t really want people to know who we are.  We always pretend to be someone or something we are not. Only a scant few want people to see the real them.  Who they really are with all their insecurities and foibles.  Take Instagram for example.  How many users actually put who they really are on Instagram?  They put their best foot forward.  They take oodles of shots and gazillions of selfies before the find the exact right one to project the image they are trying to portray. (Guilty) That perfect, enviable, lofty image.  I could be wrong but it almost seems the sole purpose of Instagram is to put forth a phony image.  Make it look like we are having the times of our lives.  Make it look like we have it all together.  Make it look like we are thinner than we are or more attractive than we are. More affluent than we are.   I am pretty sure the majority of us actually going thru real crisis (fatal diagnosis, financial ruin, broken relationships and the like) aren’t fussing with Instagram (or social media).  So the ones clogging cyber space are the “everybodies’ and ‘anybodies’.

OK. to be honest,  there are a lot of folks out there that are using Social Media for good.   They are being real and legitimately trying to reach out to  people.  They are dispelling myths and unrealistic standards so others can be real too.  For some its their livelihood.  And I do follow some real, unmasked folks. And its a joy to share their journey.

I know, personally, I usually only put the good stuff on Instagram.  I made a pie today.  I made bread today.  Look how well my garden is growing and how prolific my poppies are.  I am at a beach right now.  Isn’t it gorgeous???   I organized my spices in a drawer.  Yay me!  I spend my life on my deck and its amazing.  Look at this amazing picture of the sunset/sunrise I captured.   I don’t tell you that the scale is going up, not down. I don’t tell you I didn’t get any sleep last night and I am ornery.  I don’t tell you I can’t concentrate.  I don’t tell you that I almost had a heart attack on my two hour walk, up hill today.  I don’t tell you I stubbed my toe last night and let a line of expletives that would curl your hair.  I don’t tell you about my addictions.  I don’t tell you about my difficult relationships.  I don’t tell you that I am exhausted.  I don’t tell you about my health challenges.  I don’t tell you what I am afraid of.  I don’t tell you about my financial struggles.  Why not?  Well first of all Social Media is not the time or place to share these things with strangers that haven’t earned the right to hear or know your story but for the most part I don’t want to be a party pooper.  Bringing people down.   Don’t get me wrong – when I share beautiful, revelational, grateful  posts…I am sincere.  But I only put the good stuff in front of the public eye.
So I hide behind a mask of my own making.  Very often, I don’t want you to see the real me.  Full of insecurities and mistakes and struggles.  I don’t want you to discover maybe I’m not as nice a person as you thought I was.  Maybe I am not as wise as you might think.  Maybe I don’t have it all together.
I am thinking this mask thing is kind of handy.  Being an introvert, I don’t mind if people don’t recognize me.  Very often I don’t want to talk to people.  No one can see my double chin or age spots.  Saves on make-up.  And no,  I don’t feel my personal rights are being violated.  I stop at red lights and stop signs, don’t I?  I pay my taxes.  When I go shopping I pay for things, I don’t steal them.  I follow company policies when I am working.  (I like my paycheque).  I drive on the correct side of the road and fasten my seat belt.  I don’t text and drive. I tell the truth.  I don’t plagiarize.  I don’t knowingly try to sneak water bottles, scissors, or weapons of mass destruction through security at the airport.  If I ride the C-train I purchase a token.  So I will wear a mask as long as required.   If we really want to get upset about something or get on some real righteous indignation,  lets choose human trafficking or elder abuse or mental illness.

It seems that the world is filled with evil, sadness, anger, confusion, fear and many other negative emotions and activities. If we dwell on these things and live in this place we will be defeated and depressed. Not to mention scared.   But I have also caught glimpses of joy and beauty and love and compassion and more than enough blessing to encourage celebration.  To encourage gratitude.  To spur hope.
And…we get to choose.  We can give into the negative emotions and news and happenings or we can choose to focus on all that is still good in this world.  As long as He still reigns and lives among us, there is still cause for celebration.  And HE does still live in the hearts of his followers.
Some may define me as in denial or living in my own little bubble but I want to love this life and I want to invent special occasions just because.  A total diet of hate and fear and worry can lead to a slow emotional and spiritual death.  Even a physical one.  Stress is not our friend.  Stress causes sickness, disease and eventually death.
It’s not that I don’t take the problems of this world seriously – I totally do! BUT I cannot live under that dark shadow every minute of every day before I start to become of no use to anyone. Before parts of me start to die off.  Once we start living defeated lives we are part of the problem not part of the solution.  I want to be part of the solution and in my own way, that means recognizing all there is to be grateful for.
I want to sing at the top of my lungs.  I want to water the flowers and smell the roses.  I want to dress nicely and wear luscious colors.  I want to create beautiful things.  I want to make people feel special.  I want to bake a sumptuous loaf of bread or a fresh apple pie and share it with others. I’m looking for an excuse to blow up some balloons and turn on some mini lights and light a candle.  I want my heart to skip a beat when I see beauty.  When I feel the warm sun on my face.  When I hear the rain outside my window.  When I listen to the sway of the trees in the wind at night.  When I drive through the mountains.  When I hear a baby giggle.  When I listen to grandma reminisce about the good old days.
I want to find ways to create joy and bring hope to those who have lost their way.  I must fight to avoid this myself.  How am I going to do that?  I am going to celebrate every day.  I am going to be grateful.  I am going to dance – even if just in my heart.  I am going to fill myself with truth.  I am going to store up treasures in heaven.  I am going to walk with Him.  I am going to seek His wisdom and His joy and His peace and try to pass it around.  I am going to ask Him to fill me with compassion for others and I am going to celebrate daily.  Even if it’s just one small thing.  One small happy dance. One small celebration at a time.

No, I’m not talking about that year when I lost all that weight. Or the cliff edge we had to navigate, hanging on for dear life it was so narrow, lest we lose our footing. No. This is a concept that grabbed my attention when one of my favorite authors, Shauna Neiquist, introduced it to me in her writing. “A thin place is a place where the boundary between the natural world and the supernatural one is more permeable -thinner, if you will”. “Where the passage between heaven and earth is a short one, a place where God’s presence is almost palpable. The boundary between the divine world and the human world becomes almost non existent, and the divine and the human can, for a moment, dance uninterrupted.” She goes on to say, “when we find a thin place, we should live differently in the face of it, because if we don’t, we miss some of the best moments that life with God has to offer us. These thin places are gifts, treasures, and they are worth changing our lives for.”

I have felt strongly that these months, when the entire world has been cut off from one another and most of our regular activities and pursuits have been halted, have become a thin place for me. A place where Gods presence is almost palpable. So intense that it feels tangible. Tangible, as in something that can be touched or felt. The portal to communion with God has been opened and seizing the moment has become expedient.

Interestingly enough, when we cease from our striving and our indulging and our speed and our self sufficiency, there is a quiet where we can hear the voice of God. Being honest, there have been, many other voices out there, in this unique period of history, that have been vying for our attention. Fear. Guilt. Anger. Fear. Uncertainty. Suspicion. Mistrust. Fear. Pride. Arrogance. Fear. But as we shelter at home, we have had the choice to turn off all those other voices and invite God’s voice into our experience. Turning off the harmful voices takes intention. And you have to replace those voices with something else. Something more soothing and more calm. I’ve heard the voice of love speaking to me. Literally drowning out the voices out there. Sometimes, I have been successful and sometimes, not so much.

But when I have been able to experience this thin place (and I have much more during this isolation period), it has been a gift of peace and a treasure trove of wisdom and encouragement. It has brought calm and rationality back in front of me, and inside of me. I have been content to bask, for literally hours, in His presence and have his love and grace wash over me. And not feel one tiny bit guilty that I should have been doing something more productive. I have felt that this was the most productive thing I could do. The most healing. The most illuminating. The most reflective. The most corrective. And it has changed me. Continues to change me. I have felt these thin places breathing life and love back into me. There has been a softening. A more willing submission to the one I endeavour to love with all my heart and soul and mind. There is no fear in these moments or hours or days. The thin places have been a gift for sure. I will continually pursue and hunt for the thin places. A little piece of heaven on earth.

I had lots to do today, but, my daughter invited me along on some errands she had to run. I never say no to spending time with my kids, especially if they initiate. I am sure you mothers know exactly what I’m talking about.

First stop, my favorite italian market. We had to stand in line outside as they were only letting so many in. We donned our face masks and waited in line. We expected this. Lexie pulling me over as I was getting too close to the girl in front of us. I forgot. Once we were at the front of the line, the staff member gave us a bit of a judgemental look and said, you’re going in together? Us: is that ok? Him: Fine. As long as long as only one of you goes through the till. What? Plus he wasn’t letting us in until he soaked us down with substitute hand santitizer made in a brewery. It’s very wet and drippy and you end up smelling like a bottle of wine. Me: is it ok if I use my own? Him: Sure, but let me watch you apply it.

I kept getting messed up by the arrows on the floor because in spots there were none and I wondered ‘how to I get over there from here?’ I felt like I was playing a social distancing game of Twister. I’m getting pretty good at my long jump. I got my chocolate croissants and a basil plant and hightailed it out of there. Used to be one of my favorite places. I won’t be going back there anytime soon. I’ll learn how to make my own chocolate croissants.

We stopped at our favorite mall to procure an essential item Lexie needed but, of course, decided to snoop around a bit. You know, go to some of our favorite stores that we hadn’t set foot in for about two and a half months….Brewery hand sanitizer at one store (I used my own) and instructed at the door to only try on clothes in change rooms…even purses and shoes. Then we go over to another store and your not allowed to try on the clothes at all. Just make your best guess on size and you can return it in 2021 if you need to. I stopped quickly at the book store…. donning a face mask and bypassing their brewery hand sanitizer once again. The employee at the door: Wow, that sure smells a lot better than ours. Yes. Yes, it does. I had to keep telling the door guards that my hand sanitizer had 68% alchohol.

One of the mall guards approached us and said: if you are just going to chit chat could you go stand over there? That’s ok,  we were just leaving.

Next stop, the garden store.  The whole hand sanitizer thing again. These great big spray bottles. No thanks, I already showered. Mostly freewheeling there. Pleasant enough. However, I overheard a staff person telling these ladies, that were mumbling under their face masks, bedding plants are the new toilet paper. We are out! Finally, standing outside on the curb waiting for Lexie and I had to keep moving so I didn’t accidentally touch anyone trying to get by. Felt like a game of dodge ball.

Yes, the stores are opening but the fun is gone. Maybe shopping was never meant to be a fun activity.  Maybe I got it all wrong.  I’m not going back to any of these places in a long long time. I mean, I get that they are just following protocol so they can be open. I get that. If they don’t do these things then they will be shut down again. I do get that.  I actually feel bad for them.  But just because they are open, doesn’t mean I have to go there. And I mostly likely will not return for quite some time.  It’s my choice. I am quite enjoying the benefits of online shopping. I can get my essentials at the grocery store and everything else, online or go without. Which isn’t such a bad idea anyway.

I didn’t realize how good we had it prior to this. I just took my long leisurely afternoons at Chapters and Starbucks for granted. Like they’d never end. Meeting friends there to chat for hours. Going to movies every Friday night. Taking all out out-of-town visitors to Chinook as a form of entertainment. Going to our favorite patisserie’s when the day was lovely. Driving out to Banff or Lake Louise for the afternoon. I read today that an Albertan found a hate note on his car, parked momentarily, in Revelstoke, telling him to go home (most in expletives). Is this the new normal? Because if it is, I will be more than happy to stay at home forever.

My husband suggested we go out for dinner for my birthday – because – we can now. I’m thinking, let’s just have a BBQ in the back yard. I’m not afraid of catching anything (and I’m trying to do my part not to spread anything),  it’s more that I just don’t like the world anymore. And I don’t like how it’s making people act.  Paul ( of biblical fame) suggests  we make it our ambition to lead a quiet and simple life and mind our own business…. i think I’ll try that. I’ll stay home and take care of my sourdough starter.

It seems everyone is baking bread during their home isolation. Even if they never made it before. The flour and yeast aisles are pretty much bare at the grocery stores. And many people are making sour dough bread starter (because you don’t need yeast). I’m pretty sure if sourdough starter were a vaccine we’d have enough, just in Calgary, for the entire planet.

I think we have a love hate relationship with bread. On the one hand it is irresistible fresh out of the oven with some real butter or some jam. Even with nothing. Just rip off a chunk and inhale it. Let’s not forget the way it makes your house smell like heaven while it’s baking. On the other hand, it’s straight up carbs and there are many that don’t feel people that eat carbs are worth taking up space on the earth. Carbs are the enemy. Thus, bread is too.

But I don’t think there are very many that can turn down fresh baked even if they don’t believe in it. If you are a perpetrator of fresh bread expect to be despised by these ‘no carb’ cults.

I’m pretty sure that bakers and cooks and even regular people are buying up all the flour and yeast because they are convinced that, if you have these, you can bake bread and you’ll always have food. (don’t get me started on the just add water pancake mix). It reminds me of the manna that the Lord provided daily for the Israelites when they were wandering in the desert. They did live on bread alone. And I don’t remember reading that the Lord switched it up at all. No wonder they were complaining that the food in Egyptian slavery was better.

There are so many ways to do bread. Fresh. Ripped. Sliced. Toasted. Cinnamon buns. Raisin bread. Focaccia. Naan. Bruschetta. Bread pudding. Croissants. Sandwiches. French toast. Croutons. Sourdough. Banana bread. Stuffing. Dinner rolls. Bread sticks. Crustinis. Crumbs. And it’s all good.

There is no denying that bread is comfort food. Maybe that’s what everyone is after. The Comfort. These are unpredictable times and everything is changing daily. We don’t know what’s true or real. Bread is stable and certain and gives us what we want. Bread is bread and it’s makes us feel good (until it doesn’t). Helps us forget about the crazy, even if only while we are eating it or baking it or smelling it. Who says we aren’t making a lot of dough staying at home?  I know I am.

As I was listening to our pastors powerful message of truth at our Tenebrae service on Good Friday (we participated at home online) he mentioned that this was probably the lentiest Lent that anyone in our generation or younger have ever experienced.  Lent, in the Christian church, is a period of penitential preparation for Easter. In Western churches it begins on Ash Wednesday, six and a half weeks before Easter, and provides for a 40-day fast (Sundays are excluded), in imitation of Jesus Christ ’s fasting in the wilderness before he began his public ministry.  So,  very often,  believers and Christ followers give up something during Lent so they can spend more time focusing on Christ and his sacrifice for us and what it all means and what He means to us.  This year, Ash Wednesday was on February 26th, exactly two weeks before the proverbial pandemic hit the fan. As an adjective,  penitent means feeling or expressing sorrow for sin or wrongdoing and disposed to atonement and amendment.  Repentant. Contrite.