A Worthy Life

imaginary friends

It's a labor of love these sisters share - imaginary friends they create, customize, and control. Their names, their looks, and their personalities all a hybrid of ingenuity and necessity, a mash-up of real life friends tweaked to perfection.

What they love, they keep. What they want, they add.

These friendships, these imaginary companions keep them occupied for some time, an exercise in a world of their own making with relationships of their own choosing. Any hurts are dramatized, the pleasure stilted and choreographed.

None of it like the real thing, for better or for worse.

As I watch them, I think about how much this, their scripted interaction with invented confidantes, mirrors our own fascination with our online lives, our online presence, platform, and populace. We want followers and friends, on facebook, twitter, Instagram, or blogs - come as you are, whoever you are...just please, please! like me and the stuff I say and do.

My posse I can name, sounding out my loyalties to friends in a roster where all begin with @ or end in .com. These? These are the friends I wish I had in real life, this collage of characters most like me or who I wish I was, the ones whose words and lives and pictures appeal to the isolation in my soul.

In a world of lonely lives and hurting hearts, we disperse from the masses to solitude in our homes staring at concocted kaleidoscopes of realities, self-edited prisms of truth and perspective, hoping to make a connection.

Needing community, we take to the keys. Longing for purpose, we pursue our platforms.

And this, this virtual world of beautiful people and like-minded kindred kith add to our life in infinite ways - widening our perspectives, stretching our understanding, challenging our fantastical perceptions, and even giving us volume to the voice we carry inside.

Yet in some ways they too are a mash-up of desire, an alternate reality of our own making for our specific choosing. It's less evasive to thrash out hurts in a space where my tears are hidden; it's cathartic to admit my foibles and failures without the threat of accountability or repercussion. It's far easier to pen my life story than to actually act out my convictions for a live audience.

We are emboldened by those who click a thumbs up for their acceptance of us even as we still wake to a lonely reality.

For all the promise that virtual community holds, for better or for worse, nothing can replace the real thing, especially for the better, especially when others around you are longing for you to offer your best.

A digital :) titillates, a full-face smile over shared corner booth warms. Hugs and kisses tapped out in text are whispers of love, an embrace that surrounds and holds me tall when I can hardly stand screams that there is someone here for me. "With you in spirit" is the next best thing, but "present with you" is what we most long for.

An invitation to dinner while my husband is away, an email that grants me "permission to speak into (her) life" as a friend journeys a difficult road chosen for her by another, a muffled cry telephoned for help from down the road, a poolside catch-up that reminds how much she has blessed my life, ...these are the realities I long for, the messy and tired worst that often bring forth the better and the deeper. No hiding who we are, no shrinking back from where God has placed us, using our voice, our gifts, our strength, our passion to create community here, right where we are, right where lonely hearts are longing.

The sisters planned for and played in their world for long moments soaking up the gift of the other. This is what I want for them throughout their lives: friendship among kin, created harmony amid inevitable chaos, and a sincere appreciation for the melding of broken lives into kindred spirits.

This is the reality I want, I crave, I need. Navigating reality with transparent authenticity with flesh and blood in my home, in my neighborhood, and in my circle of influence, this is why I was placed here for such a time for such as these.

 

prayers for ali

My friend Ali, who needs no introduction, is currently in Peru with Juventud Con Una Mision (Youth With a Mission) growing deeper in her relationship with God and in training to take the Good News deep into the jungles. Her mom sent an email today to Ali's friends requesting prayer for Ali. Ali has dengue fever in it's earliest stages and so I'm asking you to pray for her with me.

Pray specifically that it would be a mild case without progressing to a more serious stage. Pray that she would have inner peace despite the fever and pain that rages. Pray for her husband Phil and the others there as they care for her, that they would be a blessing.

Ali, when Paul spoke about becoming all things to all men, becoming as the infirm that the infirm you might gain, I don't think he was actually charging you to go out and get dengue fever! :) Nevertheless, knowing you and your God, He will somehow use this to gain the salvation of souls.

enter if you dare

a note to future houseguests:

• you will feel welcomed if and only if you are invited to bedroom boxing matches.

• you will feel slightly altered after spending a few hours with us. perhaps for the better, perhaps not. either way, you will be forever changed. no worries, we'll visit you if when you wind up in the crazy house.

• you will be loved and treated like one of the family. would you expect a brother and/or sister to be treated any other way?

anyone wanna book next...??

finally found, never lost

I just finished a card game with my kids at our emptier kitchen table. Enjoying the quiet but missing their presence. Even as I blurt out the appropriate oink or growl for the just played cards my mind was already writing this post. Or, at least, attempting to.

For what transpired the last few days, there are plenty of words. A doorbell rung, hugs exchanged, a house tour shared, a violent slap jack gamed ensued. Explaining similar backgrounds and admitting to identical interests in frequented blogs. A dinner of chili and cornbread ingested (luckily by guests caught up on all their shots ;) and an Ali-provoked emotional tirade by a child anxious about seperation from her mother for the night's hockey game. The bad guys win, no doubt spurned on by the betrayal of my new friends cheering for the team in blue. That or, it was simply God's will.

A morning of worship, an afternoon of sheet forts, and an evening of hotcakes and howling laughter. A fainting, a miracle, and almost $1,000 raised. Another late night, too late but too precious not to savor. Chappatis consumed and a craving and bellies satisfied. A ping pong tourney, won and lost but made infinitely better by my dancing skills, I dare to suggest. Those same skills would be put to good use as we all shook our tail feathers before bedtime kisses and prayers. One more greeting of the morrow in pjs huddled before computers sharing favorite youtube videos.

Today I woke last, worn out by the festivities but also perhaps hoping to delay their departure. Crepes by our butler, Shadrach, and shopping with Joe, careful to avoid any exposure of the kneeples. The best wings in the world and a table tennis foe vanquished between brothers from another mother.

Those are the words. A rather feeble outline of the moments and the conversations, of the people and our days together.

But how do I begin to document the depth of emotions at finally meeting a stranger known prior only through typed words exchanged? To say it was the joining of two soul sisters or the harmonizing of bosom buddies would be borrowing from words claimed by others, though true enough. Our friendship, planted by a cyber seed years ago, has now blossomed into a sharing of personal sorrows and present struggles. Where once there was an email sent, there is now a hug given. Where once there was questions, there are now answers. Where once there were two strangers, there are now two sisters.

Ali, the last few days have been magical, as I sit here writing I can hardly believe they happened at all. Even now, the echo of our laughter is fading from the rooms where once we sat as four on one couch and sipped late night cups of tea amidst brutal kicking of the shins. There are few who could decipher our memories above but ours is a bizarre and often twisted humor that giggles again in the remembering. As I sought to describe our now christened friendship, these words came to mind: you are a friend I never lost but one I was certainly destined to find. Thank you, Ali and Phil, for taking the risk to drive into our lives and laugh your way into our hearts. You will still be in our daily prayers as you continue to bring God's healing into broken lives and a broken world. I know that, along the way, your lives and characters will continue to burst forth into all the glory God intended to receive from them.

Maybe one day my writing skills will catch up to yours and I can submit a more intelligent and more translatable synopsis of our time together. Maybe, but I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you. Not unless someone broke wind.

 

fa, la, la, la, la...

One of my favorite holidays down, and one to go!

Thanksgiving turned out to be quite possibly my favorite one since I've moved to Canada. Remember all my belly aching on how unhistorical and blase the Canadian version is? And how I always wanted to show my kids how great a US one could be? Days after posting this, I got a call from a fellow American friend here in Canada. Here was her proposition: if she made the entire dinner for our families, would I be willing to have some activities for the kids? She had me at "cooking the entire meal".

We enjoyed hours at her home, the kids in a mad frenzy bolting here and there and everywhere while the adults talked about this and that and everything. The hours there created a new Thanksgiving memory for us while deepening a precious friendship. I'm free next year, too, Rachel! ;)

Next up, Christmas. This is our first year doing an advent calendar and I think I'm more excited than the kids about this one! Here's a few of our daily activities, wrapped up in tiny bundles of paper:

1. breakfast in bed, served by mom and dad

2. Christmas lites in bedroom

3. pedicure night (when the boys are away)

4. make ice lanterns

5. shop for canned goods for food bank

6. fireside reading night

7. ice-skating on outdoor rink

8. brunch with extended family

9. visit housebound friends

10. nighttime drive to look @ epic Christmas displays

11. Sinterklaas

12. go see Voyage of the Dawn Treader

13. talk a walk @ night with lanterns

14. gingerbread house with Debbie Auntie

15. buy new Christmas cd

Tonight we also begin doing our Jesse Tree, an incredibly beautiful one we downloaded here.

Though Jesus never emphasized the rememberance of His birth as He did his death, it's a precious privilege to remember that He had humble beginnings and lived a life of service. In a society where ambition and position are revered, we can contemplate the journey of One who lived very differently and Who may be beckoning us to follow in His footsteps.

Hark, the holiday is upon us!

down at the banks of the hanky pank

On Saturday, we started here:

Until we were done and then went here, to the home of our host and friend, for the best homemade spaghetti sauce my husband has ever had and the best salad I have had in a long time and the best brownie my kids had ever had that day, at least. Washing dishes while our host played Scrabble with my kiddos was the best trade-off ever: I got to work in silence while she entertained my troops.

Are you getting the gist that it was, like, one of our best days of relaxation ever?

a perfect day

There are moments in a day where I pause and take a mental picture of the blessings of this life. There are moments that I take a deeper breath, trying to remember the smell in the breezes that blow quickly by. There are moments that I truly feel that this one could be my last, so full my heart swells it must be close to bursting.

Today was full of such moments. Simple pleasures, nothing out of the ordinary. A morning full of creative work and play, an afternoon of hushed activity. Tonight we ordered take-out and met up with friends at an old favorite park on the river's edge. The food was great, the company better. We laughed, we dreamed, we chased the dads ragged. Our joy bubbled over and infected other families who watched us; their kids joined us and the parents passed on appreciation for our "inspirational play". 

Not wanting the night to end, the girls piled in one car, the boys the other. We drove over to another world, a world full of exotic food and creatures. We navigated our way as foreigners by signs with artistic symbols as our only guide.

We drove home with the sunroof and all windows open. We marveled at the changing colors of the sunset and drank in the love of our Creator through wide eyes. We kissed, hugged, prayed, and tucked the kids into their beds in a tent sent up in the basement for the week.

Today I was not perfect. I struggled with bitterness and hopelessness about a certain circumstance in my life. I didn't love the way I could have. I didn't forgive the way someone else forgave me.

But today was perfect. It was a perfect symphony of lessons I'm still learning, the reminder of the awesome power of my God, and the truth that He will not give me what my sins deserve.

a beautiful day in the neighborhood

Valuable as it is, gorgeous is not a good stock to invest in. No matter what you do, how well you take care of yourself, one day you are going to lose everything on your investment.~Valerie Monroe

Last Friday I invited my neighbors and a few friends to my house for a night out on the...neighborhood. Yes, we suburban women sure do know how to live it up! With fifteen women gathered round, I welcomed them to my home and opened with the above quote. Even I could admit, it was a terrible segue into a party centered around trying on and buying beautiful jewelry.

Bad from a sales perspective but perfect for the real reason I invited them all here.

I followed up by proving my point. While my vintage/glam inspired necklace sure helped me rock my best Jenna Lyon's inspired outfit, it could do little to melt away the cellulite I pocket in my thighs. Fashion is fun, plain and simple. An almost universal language. Even at that, wearing a Yudashkin suit won't help Obama with chilling relationships with Russia nor will having a fashion model on his arm help Sarkozy win another election in France.

For me, one of the best investments I can make is in relationships, in the business of building friendships. Everywhere I go, I just can't help myself...I just wanna make a friend! Whether while I'm at the park chatting it up with other moms or in the grocery aisles when approached by another mother of four within four years, I've gathered phone numbers and email addresses from other women eager to help grow investments for both of us.

Before the night was out, I had gotten to know each of my neighbors a little better and they in turn got to know each other a little more. Now when we see each other on the street we do more than the cursory hello or smile and wave. We stop and chat, sharing a little more of our lives and ourselves with every friendly deposit.

Ours was always a good neighborhood but that night it was more, it was a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

choice words

Emmanuelle is scared to death of Alice in Wonderland. So scared that she has daytime nightmares, frightened that Johnny Depp is hiding behind every wall. At the slightest unknown sound, she covers her eyes and repeats, "Alice in Wonderland is bad. Alice in Wonderland is too scary. Alice in Wonderland is..."

Regardless of the scariness of Tim Burton's adaptation, Lewis Carroll's original novel got this right:

"Then you should say what you mean," the March Hare went on.

"I do," Alice hastily replied; "at least--at least I mean what I say--that's the same thing, you know."

"Not the same thing a bit!" said the Hatter. "You might just as well say that "I see what I eat" is the same thing as "I eat what I see"!"

This past week I was blessed by choice words from many a precious friend. By email, by real mail, or by spoken words, they said what they meant and I know they mean what they say. Their offers of support, by prayer and practical means, were the necessary nutrients for my burgeoning hope and reminders that I am not alone, that I am loved. 

Were their words truly edible, I would eat what I see...

"I'm praying for you - let me know if there is any special way to
 pray...love you, dear!"

Jude, verse 2: Mercy, peace and love be yours in abundance.

Behold, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the desert
and streams in the wasteland. Isaiah 43:19

"thinking of you and praying for you.  for that same ridiculous peace you had with your little baby miracle. :) "

a late afternoon nap interrupted by a visit from a friend, her hug, her support, her kind words.

"For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ." 2 Cor. 1:5 Tonight I am praying Psalm 40 for you, dear friend!

Tasty morsels I'm nibbling on this week! Could you use a taste of hope?

"my" african adventures

Close your eyes for a minute.

(Now keep them closed as you read. ;)

Imagine our world suspended in space. Do you see all the blue and green? Right over there, where the ocean of blue meets the enormity of African green is a boat. Invisible to you now but as you zoom in more and more you'll finally see it. You see a tiny boat? Zoom in closer then until you see it life-size. It is huge. Nearly 500 feet long and weighing over 16 thousand tonnes, this ship is the world's largest charity hospital ship with 6 operating theatres (thankfully, this is not where t.v. doctors fake bizarre surgeries nor is it a secret haven for clandestine lovers...though we may revisit this possibility later on) and a 78 bed ward.

(Are you still with me? With your eyes closed still? If you are having a hard time shaking images of clandestine rendezvous in the operating theatres from your mind, you now have my permission to continue reading with eyes wide open.)

On this ginormous ship works a beautiful little soul, Ali is her name. I met her through her blog but fell in love with her once I knew that she too was an American sister who could appreciate the beauty in a dark skinned brother. Fast forward a few years and we'll look like mirror images of each other, our families complete with matching "cafesito" children. Because her husband of joy lives aboard the ship with her, I can't completely rule out those aforementioned clandestine uses of the operation theatre. Ali...?? ;)

Way across the ocean is some more green, although for most of the year I'm sure it looks more like a frozen marshmallow that fell into a pile of pine needles. Somewhere in the vastness of that huge blob is a city with barely a million souls residing therein. And in that city a program for children. And within that program for children a young teenager that has lived in this fair city for little more than a year. Our paths managed to cross and though there are over a hundred people weekly at this program hers is the only soul I have ever shared more than a casual hello with.

Imagine my surprise and delight when I learned that this precious girl, who is the ONLY reason my littlest one stays to play, has also lived aboard the same charity ship as my good friend Ali! Well, it's predecessor that was retired to welcome in M/V Mercy but still! That same day I had only just sent our package to Ali that we had shopped for months before and I couldn't help but think what a beautiful coincidence it all was! Of all the millions of people in all the many countries volunteers of the Mercy Ships come from and one happened to be right under my nose, linking me closer yet with the miraculous work being done thousands of miles away.

Here's a personal story about my new little friend while aboard Anastasis:

The kid's club on the ship were going to make Christmas cards to take to the patients down in the hospital ward. C was anxious about this and said she didn't want to go. Anyway, after talking to C she said she would go down to the hospital but she would say hello like this...and she put one hand over her eyes and with the other hand she waved.

And off she went to kids club.

Later I found out many kids didn't go to the hospital ward but C did...and as they walked in she said she wanted to give her card to Tamba (man in photo). He was alone in the ICU and on suicide watch. His village had been raided by rebels and while hiding in the marsh next to a lady and baby, the baby began to cry and attracted the rebels. They shot and killed the motherand child while on rebel took a machete to Tamba's face. They laughed and left him for dead. But he survived and was brought to the ship some time later.

God did something in C's heart for Tamba and thus started regular visits to the ward to colour together, make crafts or read to him. While he healed he also started to work a bit on the ship, helping, etc. He loved God and somehow God used C to help bring him back to life. 

Please, visit Ali today and read her thoughtful words describing the acts of love and mercy that are done each day in the name of Jesus. If you have a moment, drop her a line of encouragement or together with your kids make a pile of Get Well cards for the patients recovering or visit Mercy Ships to donate anything you can to help further the impact these volunteers are able to bring while sacrificing so much time spent with their own loved ones.

How beautiful are the feet of the messenger bringing good news, the blast of the ship's horn breaking the news that all will be well, announcing salvation, telling the nations that "Our God reigns!" (a personal rendition of Isaiah 52:7)