I went to a pumkin patch yesterday.
It was a beautiful fall day, I wore my red coat, and I got to do all of this with a very good friend of mine and her adorable nephew. I had forgotten how therapeutic it can be to hold a baby. Something about cuddling, that feel of being needed and being able to at least somewhat fulfill that need, is incredibly comforting. Prior to this I was able to play with this baby's three year old brother. We built a lego house, played catch, and he taught me how to mow the lawn. He also told my friend that I am from a movie. And not just any movie, but a love story. However, this is no ordinary love story. It is a violent love story.
I had no idea ;)
I also discovered that the Winchester brothers from Supernatural were filming in my favourite little town out here this week. And that they and the cast of Fringe were also filming in another nearby community. Which led me to a decision.
When I die and these shows are filming a 50 year reunion episode or some such thing, I will happily dedicate my grave to be theirs' for the digging.
I suppose these are all indicators of the good week that I had. I got a chance to do a group micro teaching assignment this week and was able to participate in a Terry Fox Run at the elementary school that houses my module. While heading out for this run a grade three girl stopped in her tracks, turned, looked at me, and said, "You look really pretty."
Yeah, I pretty much died right there.
I have also been contacted by two old students in the last two weeks telling me they miss me and want me to come back to teach them. Again, talk about a self-esteem boost.
I also purchased my plane ticket to fly out east to visit Charming in December. 72 sleeps until I leave (not that I'm counting or anything pathetic like that).
And at this moment I have my headphones plugged in and am listening to Michael Buble singing "All I Want for Christmas is You."
Today I tried out my first church too. The last few weeks I have always been away visiting friends or family so I just went to church with them. This was my first Sunday at home and so I decided to try out a church suggested to me by my pastors back in Prince George.
The church was huge (the sanctuary seats over 1000 people), much bigger than anything I have ever been to before. My cynicism over church came out as I caught myself trying to pick out things that might irk me.
You know what? Ultimately I just felt at peace while I was there.
Yes, it is a huge church and one that I will probably get lost in. I know it has a really good young adults group, but trying to figure out how to get connected might be difficult.
And then you have the fact that I'm only here for a year. I know I need to live like I actually live here, but when it comes to church it's hard. Especially since this area is so huge and it takes ages to get anywhere (or so it seems to this smalltown, northern girl). I came to the realization that what I really want in a church this year is a place where I can go on Sunday and I know that what I'm going to hear is solid teaching. I'm so tired of leaving churches feeling angry or frustrated. I'm tired of being cynical. So when I sat down in this church and just felt a peace settle over me it was a welcome change. Next week I am visiting my brother and his family for Thanksgiving (yay!!), but the week after that I think I will try this church out again.
So I had an interesting revelation over the last couple of weeks but haven't mentioned it because it sounds incredibly fluffy and I'm scared everyone will just laugh at me, or shake their heads and say something like, "There she goes again, attempting to be poetic." But I'll share it anyway.
The first few weeks of this education program were spent getting to know who we are, what makes us tick, where we come from, and how all of these things influence us as teachers. Most of it I just laughed inwardly at and tried not to puke.
But something hit me as I was drawing chalk pastel pictures about where I come from and writing poetry to go alone with it (yes, this is what I'm paying money to do). The faculty member doing this with us kept driving home the geography of the places we come from and how it shapes us.
I began to think of all the places I have lived. I thought of being a little girl in Ontario, running across the field behind our house as my brother shouted for me to "Run like the wind." I thought of moving to the arctic where the wind chill made the temperature about -100 degrees Celsius. Of living near the prairies or in the mountains where the winds nearly blow you off your feet (or off the roof where you are checking exhaust fans).
And then I thought of some of the posts I wrote last year. Posts where I shared that the moments in nature when I most acutely felt God's love was in the moment when a breeze would stir, playing with my hair and caressing my face.
I never understood why such a thing would so greatly speak to me. Why a breeze would be the perfect representation of God's love.
The answer came to me a few weeks ago.
It's because no matter where I lived and how diverse those places were, the wind was a constant for me. Wind broke through every boundary. It didn't care if I was living in Southern Ontario or if I was in my parka on the tundra. The wind found me.
What better a representation of God's love? I serve this incredible God who takes something that seems completely unrelated to His love, the wind, and uses it to wrap around my heart.
Sometimes He just amazes me.
This is my story.
It was a beautiful fall day, I wore my red coat, and I got to do all of this with a very good friend of mine and her adorable nephew. I had forgotten how therapeutic it can be to hold a baby. Something about cuddling, that feel of being needed and being able to at least somewhat fulfill that need, is incredibly comforting. Prior to this I was able to play with this baby's three year old brother. We built a lego house, played catch, and he taught me how to mow the lawn. He also told my friend that I am from a movie. And not just any movie, but a love story. However, this is no ordinary love story. It is a violent love story.
I had no idea ;)
I also discovered that the Winchester brothers from Supernatural were filming in my favourite little town out here this week. And that they and the cast of Fringe were also filming in another nearby community. Which led me to a decision.
When I die and these shows are filming a 50 year reunion episode or some such thing, I will happily dedicate my grave to be theirs' for the digging.
I suppose these are all indicators of the good week that I had. I got a chance to do a group micro teaching assignment this week and was able to participate in a Terry Fox Run at the elementary school that houses my module. While heading out for this run a grade three girl stopped in her tracks, turned, looked at me, and said, "You look really pretty."
Yeah, I pretty much died right there.
I have also been contacted by two old students in the last two weeks telling me they miss me and want me to come back to teach them. Again, talk about a self-esteem boost.
I also purchased my plane ticket to fly out east to visit Charming in December. 72 sleeps until I leave (not that I'm counting or anything pathetic like that).
And at this moment I have my headphones plugged in and am listening to Michael Buble singing "All I Want for Christmas is You."
Today I tried out my first church too. The last few weeks I have always been away visiting friends or family so I just went to church with them. This was my first Sunday at home and so I decided to try out a church suggested to me by my pastors back in Prince George.
The church was huge (the sanctuary seats over 1000 people), much bigger than anything I have ever been to before. My cynicism over church came out as I caught myself trying to pick out things that might irk me.
You know what? Ultimately I just felt at peace while I was there.
Yes, it is a huge church and one that I will probably get lost in. I know it has a really good young adults group, but trying to figure out how to get connected might be difficult.
And then you have the fact that I'm only here for a year. I know I need to live like I actually live here, but when it comes to church it's hard. Especially since this area is so huge and it takes ages to get anywhere (or so it seems to this smalltown, northern girl). I came to the realization that what I really want in a church this year is a place where I can go on Sunday and I know that what I'm going to hear is solid teaching. I'm so tired of leaving churches feeling angry or frustrated. I'm tired of being cynical. So when I sat down in this church and just felt a peace settle over me it was a welcome change. Next week I am visiting my brother and his family for Thanksgiving (yay!!), but the week after that I think I will try this church out again.
So I had an interesting revelation over the last couple of weeks but haven't mentioned it because it sounds incredibly fluffy and I'm scared everyone will just laugh at me, or shake their heads and say something like, "There she goes again, attempting to be poetic." But I'll share it anyway.
The first few weeks of this education program were spent getting to know who we are, what makes us tick, where we come from, and how all of these things influence us as teachers. Most of it I just laughed inwardly at and tried not to puke.
But something hit me as I was drawing chalk pastel pictures about where I come from and writing poetry to go alone with it (yes, this is what I'm paying money to do). The faculty member doing this with us kept driving home the geography of the places we come from and how it shapes us.
I began to think of all the places I have lived. I thought of being a little girl in Ontario, running across the field behind our house as my brother shouted for me to "Run like the wind." I thought of moving to the arctic where the wind chill made the temperature about -100 degrees Celsius. Of living near the prairies or in the mountains where the winds nearly blow you off your feet (or off the roof where you are checking exhaust fans).
And then I thought of some of the posts I wrote last year. Posts where I shared that the moments in nature when I most acutely felt God's love was in the moment when a breeze would stir, playing with my hair and caressing my face.
I never understood why such a thing would so greatly speak to me. Why a breeze would be the perfect representation of God's love.
The answer came to me a few weeks ago.
It's because no matter where I lived and how diverse those places were, the wind was a constant for me. Wind broke through every boundary. It didn't care if I was living in Southern Ontario or if I was in my parka on the tundra. The wind found me.
What better a representation of God's love? I serve this incredible God who takes something that seems completely unrelated to His love, the wind, and uses it to wrap around my heart.
Sometimes He just amazes me.
This is my story.
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