Snowpocalypse

It’s the snowpocalypse.

People are doing some weird things around here. Myself included, which is how I found awake at 6:30 tip toeing around my home in an attempt to make a pre-dawn run to the store.  Because I didn’t want to turn on the light, my make-up routine was a reverse color by number affair where I removed make-up from places it shouldn’t be.  I removed excess eyeliner from underneath my eyes, leaving enough behind to look as if I had some on.  I didn’t apply any fresh make up you understand, as my pride doesn’t wake up until at least 7:30.   I was worried about losing power due to an ominous weather forecast.  My solution was to go to the hardware store at 6:30 am looking for fire logs.  Last time we dipped into the teen temperatures was a couple of years ago when my furnace died.  For twelve days our family huddled together in an epic blanket fort while our home plummeted into the low 40’s.  It was then I learned the joys of a fireplace in order to stay warm.  Our family has filed that experience under Polar Vortex from Hell 2017 but we won’t go there right now.  Right now we are on the snowpocalypse.

Back to the Hardware store.

Traditionally, women do not go to building supply stores at 6:30 am: call me sexist if you like but it’s true.  Except for the very nice blond lady with unusual glasses behind the till, there was nary a female in sight.  But there I was, in my sweat pants, my daughter’s knee high boots and homemade hat looking frightfully unstylish as men in overalls, with shaved heads and unshaved faces marched to and fro as if they knew what they were doing; which they did.  My pattern of movement followed that of a Roomba, wandering aimlessly bumping into objects while looking intentional: which I wasn’t.  Mostly I was lost.  I walked up to the nearest employee and asked if he had any fire logs.  He looked at me and grunted in the direction of the front door.  “All we have left is out there.”  “Thank you,” I sang back, because I thought he was rude and headed for the front door.  Looking at the sad display of logs I decided against buying any.  They were the type that generally put out my fires instead of starting them.  Do you know the kind?  They aren’t covered in paper that you can light.  They are made from an incombustible form of saw dust.  I suspect they were invented by a troll that hates humans. 

I made my way back to the almost empty parking lot.  My next stop was the grocery store and I knew that was going to be unpleasant.  People in my part of the world seem to do two things before a cultural or weather event: they either shop for meat or barbeque meat.  As I didn’t expect anyone was firing up their bbq’s at 7:00 am I figured I would meet them at Fred’s.  Pulling into the parking lot, I checked my list and steeled my nerve.   “Batteries, lighters, fire logs…” reciting the list to myself I dashed for the warmth of the store as a goth looking 20 something unlocked the front door.  Resuming my Roomba reconnaissance pattern, I aimed for the outdoors section.  A teenage-ish looking fellow crossed my path somewhere near the discount table filled with vile smelling candles no one was stupid enough to pay full price for (since when did candles become $10.00 I ask you?).  “Fire logs! Do you have any left?” I didn’t bother saying good morning to him because it felt like we both already understood it wasn’t.  “You know…” he looked heavenward “we found 4 boxes hiding in the back late last night.”  He paused again as if recalling a time long passed, “I know they put them out but I don’t know where.  They might be gone though.” 

“Any idea what area exactly?” I prompted him in the way I thought his mother might.

“Well…out on the floor sort of that way I think.”  My young scholar pointed to the entire store.  I had a few words with his mother in my head before I responded. “Thank you.” I sang and walked off before I said anything I’d regret.

I checked all the displays in the isles gathering items as I went but was unable to find the elusive fire logs.  I wasn’t surprised.  It was (after all) the snowpocalypse; by the end of the day many of the stores in the area would have empty shelves.  Changing my wandering to a more efficient isle-by-isle pattern, I quickly side stepped shoppers as more people entered the store.  It was approaching 7:30 and my pride was pointing out that my attire was as ridiculous as my make-up job.  In truth I was losing focus, the lines at the checkout were starting and the pace was getting hectic.  For reasons I can’t explain I bought 2 containers of ice cream and a package of hot dogs.  Why?  No clue. It was time to leave, if I didn’t have it, we could do without.  Marching toward the check-out I saw a little man walk by with a green box of fire logs on his shoulder.  “You have logs!” I screamed at the startled fellow.  “Where did you get them?” I lowered my voice and smiled trying to look more normal.  He looked at me warily, “They are down this way.”  “Excellent!” I shouted enthusiastically.  “I’m following you!”  He looked at me as if to say something and then thought the better of it.  Nodding his head he started marching toward a display.  “There.” He pointed to 3 boxes under a table and ran away quickly before I made any more unreasonable demands.  “Thank you!” I sang because it was what I did.  Two boxes of logs were loaded into my cart; the fourth would make someone very happy.

It took forever to get checked out of the store but I didn’t mind.  A toasty fire was mine to be had and the thought warmed me all the way home.  My phone quacked as I parked my car at the top of the street.  The text read where are you? My family had discovered I was missing as I walked in the door and dumped grocery bags on the floor.  “Mum? Is that ice cream?  You never buy ice cream.”  “Quiet,” I scolded, “go put on the kettle.”

As I write this, the 3^rd round of the snowpocalypse has just finished. I’m sitting in front of my wee fireplace, someone is making hot chocolate on my now functioning stove and I’m feeling blessed.  You’d never know that a few hours ago I was on the phone sobbing to a friend.  She was trying to put me back together as I discussed a troubling situation.  I was not convinced God was inclined to help me given the amount of time he was taking to answer my prayers.  How is it possible to feel so cared for one moment and so neglected the next? Feelings are unreliable in an emotional storm.

I wanted to remind you if you are in a place of waiting; God hears you.  He cares for you.  Storms can be difficult to bear and it is easy to feel alone.  I’m praying your faith might be strengthened to see the ways in which He is answering your prayers.  I like to think of them as God’s fingerprints touching things you never expected. Hopefully, in seeing his care you might be able to comprehend that his heart is for you.  By seeing his little blessings you might be able to trust him with the bigger more frightening issues.    

I’m praying for you this week,

Practice thanksgiving and stay warm.

xoxKaren

Dark Days

Pulling a drawer open, I fished around trying to find my deodorant.  The towel on my head fell off, removing whatever limited visibility I had.  Between the steam, lack of glasses and a towel over my face, there was little chance I was going to find it. I sighed, my hand tapping across the counter until I found my husband’s deodorant in the corner.  Popping the lid off, I sneezed as soon as the scent hit, once, twice, three times. It wasn’t my first Old Spice morning and it probably wouldn’t be my last.  I can’t say that wearing men’s deodorant was ever a goal of mine, but when my children became young women many of my possessions developed the ability to walk and have never returned.  This morning it was my deodorant, last night it was a box of band aids.  Is nothing sacred? 

The fragrance of his deodorant made me smile as I thought of my man, but my expression turned to a frown as I remembered I hadn’t told him we needed to meet a couple that evening.  I winced.  One of my girls had a new friend and we were overdue to meet her parents, a situation that would be rectified in a few hours.  I delayed telling him until the last moment possible, which is something married couples do when they don’t want to listen to their partner’s whine.  I figured I should tell him before we got to the church.  I threw up a small prayer that we would be able to make a suitable impression after I finished my assigned job at the concert.

Getting dressed, I grabbed a necklace and ran downstairs to the kitchen.

“We need to meet someone after the concert!” I yelled down the stairs at my hero.

“What? Why? Who wants to meet us? What did you do?”

“We need to meet ----‘s parent’s.” I explained calmly, ignoring the bait.

“Do we really want to meet people who would let their child hang out with our daughter?”

“I’m not doing this,” I growled at him and turned my attention to my surroundings.  Frustration lurched its way into my consciousness as I surveyed the devastation.  Our brand new stove had died 20 days after its arrival and I was going on 3 weeks without that major appliance.  I had been living my life in the hellish space between 2 vendors, neither of who was claiming responsibility for the broken stove as my culinary creativity, patience, and faith in humanity diminished.  On my counter was a hot plate, a toaster oven, rice cooker, waffle iron and crock pot and none of those seemed to be the right weapon for throwing together a quick stir fry.  Tears welled up in my eyes and I brushed them away.  “Aarrgh!” I shouted at the stove.  From downstairs my husband offered, “It’s okay, I promise I will behave!”   “You won’t!” I countered.  Deciding a salad would be a suitable contribution; I threw it together and placed it back in the fridge.

Sinking to the floor, I tried to reason with my emotions.  This is about more than the stove, I told myself “you are feeling worn down, a couple disappointments have lined up to cause you heartache, and you are recovering from unkind actions” I went through the list of reasons why I was feeling overwhelmed but the frustration wouldn’t budge.  I sighed. Logic wasn’t working, I marched myself back upstairs to pull myself together.   

Closing the bedroom door I settled myself on the floor.  It wasn’t long before I could articulate my frustration. 

Lord, I know the world isn’t ending and I realize this might not be a big deal, but the truth is, I feel alone.  I think expected more help.  I didn’t think it would be this hard.  I hoped someone might step in, ease the burden and undertake for me.  Frankly, I’m not seeing it.  How is it that I can pour out in so many areas yet remain so alone in times of need?  You say you are my helper, but where exactly are you and if you are there, why can’t I find you?

Have you ever been there, my friend?

Perhaps you are one of those who rise up in times of crisis.  You cook meals, drive children and offer finances, always volunteering your time and resources before you are asked.  I live alongside many such women whose gifting shine in times of disease, divorce and death yet almost every of them can tell you of a time when they desperately needed comfort but their needs went unmet by those around them.  Do such experiences indicate a malfunction in the spiritual realm or are they a special lesson sent to certain saints who serve the Lord?  Rest assured there is no glitch in the matrix.

One of the largest lies in Christendom is the notion that someone who earnestly serves the Lord will not experience setbacks or unhappiness.  Yet betrayal, loneliness and illness come to all people at one time or another.  We presume that if we serve others, there will be reciprocal service when our lives derail and sometimes that is true.  But there are times when we are called to walk alone through seasons of lack and longing.  We can find no one who has the time or inclination to walk with us through our pain.  In these times, we are challenged to rest in God alone and navigate new paths of faith. 

It isn’t easy.

One of the first struggles occurs as we come to terms with the fact that the Lord doesn’t always deliver us from discomfort as quickly as we would like.  Many times, we are left in trials until our fear fades and our faith grows.  In these times of panic and uncertainty, God changes our hearts and minds, teaching us that pain is not the end of our spiritual progress but rather a season where faith becomes action based as he teaches us new behaviors.  It can be deeply uncomfortable but the retraining of our minds pays dividends for a lifetime.

Another struggle is found as we choose to believe that God sees our plight and has not left us alone.  In times of darkness, our eyes need to adjust to see the presence of God.  It is easy to thank God when a friend drops by with a timely meal, it is much harder when you are sitting alone in a hospital waiting room and no one picks up their phone. Yet it is exactly at these times that we are invited to find new ways of settling our hearts and experiencing the peace of his presence. 

Friend, if you find yourself in such a struggle can I remind you that you are not alone? God is still there. You have not failed.  You are not experiencing something strange and unusual.  You are growing in your faith and God has his eyes on you.  Every prayer is heard, so keep praying.  Though it is lonely, it will not go on forever.  You might not be able to see hope right now, but it is not lost.  God will come in his timing and lift you out of this lesson.  He will deliver you.  Do not give up.  Just do the next thing in front of you.  Keep doing the next thing until he walks you out of the situation.

I sat on my bedroom floor until I ran out of time.  Drying my eyes and fixing my makeup, I headed to the concert.  It was entirely delightful.  Soon after its completion, my daughter ran up with her friend and parents in tow.  I smiled and shook hands looking frantically around for my hubby who joined us a few moments later.  We introduced ourselves and chatted, trying to smooth out awkward corners as graciously as possible.  As time passed, I realized I still had to put equipment away, so I gave my husband a meaningful look and dismissed myself.  I figured the evening was a success on all counts.  I met my hubby in the kitchen later, in among the myriad of appliances, for a chat.

“Did your conversation with ----‘s parents go all right after I left?” I inquired.

“Oh fine.  It got a bit weird when her dad confessed they wanted to meet us to see if we were safe people.”

“He said that straight out?” I asked somewhat incredulously.  “Good for him!  What did you say?”

“I told him that I didn’t trust you as far as I could throw you and that there were still 4 bodies in the back yard you couldn’t account for.  I suggested he think twice before letting her come over.”

“You did not.”

“Yep.  I totally did.  Her mum thought it was really funny.  She was laughing pretty hard.  He just smiled and looked kind of concerned.”

“You expect our children will ever have friends with a father like you?”

“I expect our children will be resilient, that they will not take anything too seriously and that they will know that I love them forever and to hold that knowledge in their hearts no matter what happens.”

“Amen.”

I am praying that as your eyes adjust to the dark, you will be able to perceive the presence of your unchanging God, who loves you fiercely and is undertaking on your behalf. 

xoxKaren

Chuck It

 

This is Chuck the bathroom spider, or someone who looks very much like him. 

2019.

We made it. 

It might not seem like much but, for a Gen-X’er who never thought they would live through the 80’s because of the threat of imminent nuclear disaster, it’s pretty impressive. When you factor in that I was educated by some of the finest politically correct, environmentally enlightened, cannabis cultivating teachers Vancouver Island could afford, it’s a total miracle.  Actually, while we are at it, we should blame David Suzuki too.  A half a century of “The Nature of Things” could effect anyone's vision of the future.  Especially in the old days, before they started to offer a side of hope alongside the latest environmental crisis facing the planet.  And no, you can’t get cross at me for saying that, despite our love for the man.  My sister waited on him once in Granville Island and we darn near thought we had come in contact with royalty.  However, even you have to admit there were days when you wished you skipped the show simply because you could not handle the sense of doom it sometimes afforded.  Those were the days. 

However, despite the ambiance of existential nihilism, the future I didn’t imagine wasn’t quite as ridiculous at my current reality. I expected the New Year to ring in some sanity, it didn’t turn out that way.  I’ve been spending a significant amount of time with teenagers lately.  If sanity is your objective, that is a bad plan.  Something about an incomplete brain and a complete vocabulary make teens refreshingly and boldly insane.   The tone for the month of January was set when my eldest was baking and the oven blew up in a shower of sparks.  It has continued as I have been prepping kids to compete in a speech tournament at the end of the month.  Editing sentences such as, “It takes roughly 1000 years for a single water to break down and none of us have even lived that long” will do something to your soul.  The "something" isn’t good in case I didn’t make that clear.  This morning when I was told that Chuck, the resident bathroom spider had broken his contract with my daughter, I set aside prayer time to ask the Lord to show me what I was doing wrong. 

Chuck is a spider who lives in my daughter’s bathroom.  She doesn’t like spiders as a rule, but something about erasing Chuck from the planet for being a spider seemed wrong.  They both agreed that if Chuck stuck to his corner of the bathroom, he could continue to exist.  A high handed approach to be sure, but they have lived at peace with this arrangement for some months now.  When Chuck disappeared a couple weeks ago, my girl became concerned.  Not for his life you understand, she isn’t that attached, no she was concerned that he had broken his agreement and had relocated to her bedroom.  Which is exactly what Chuck had done, being the dishonorable spider he is.  Chuck was seen this morning running at high speed across her bed.  Normally this behavior on behalf of a spider would cause my daughter to start screaming in fear but when she realized it was in fact Chuck sprinting across her duvet she got angry.  Scooping Chuck up she marched into the bathroom and dumped him back in his corner.  She explained the agreement once more and left him to consider his actions, which he probably didn’t because he is a spider. 

Every morning, my kids gather to collect a cup of tea, read and chat before their day begins.  When my daughter recounted her morning’s interactions with Chuck, I asked her why she didn’t dump Chuck outside when she finally had the nerve to catch him.  She looked at me blankly and said nothing.  I stared back.  It was then I realized Chuck had become her friend.  She had become so used to her uncomfortable relationship with the arachnid she didn’t get rid of him when she had the chance. 

Let the analogies begin.

Going into this New Year my friend I just thought I’d ask, do you have any uncomfortable relationships or habits that might be worth getting rid of?  Anything you used to be scared of, that has now turned into an uneasy alliance?  Do you need an example or two? Have you turned a blind eye to your wife’s shopping habits, constrained a discontent heart with a budget instead of having a difficult conversation?  Is your teen exhibiting some goofy behavior you are ignoring, hoping it will magically disappear instead of handing out real life consequences? Such alliances are taxing on both the sanity and the soul my friend and rarely worth the investment.

So I’m praying for both of us that we will face the New Year with confidence.  If there are any corners where uneasiness lies, that we will be willing to clean house and embrace the freedom God affords.

Give your teen(s) a hug.

Be patient with them.  They are not finished yet.

xoxKaren