Silver Thread

 How

is it possible that in this place - 

so temporary,

so transient,

so fickle and fraught with ugliness 

and jagged-edged despair -  

how is it possible that this place that we call

HOME

can simultaneously be so 

terrifyingly horrible

and so tangibly beautiful?

Fiery-red sun sighing settles low,

Brittle snow and ice glitter and crunch beneath our feet,

black-eyed juncos flit and flutter

and the great arc of sky stretches and yawns above.

How is it possible that this place 

which can tear our life apart in a moment

or the blink of an eye

so that we are shredded by grief

and sifting through the trauma-torn pieces; 

how is is possible that this place that can feel like hell

can also make our hearts soar?

It must be the possibility and mystery

that can only be

GOD.

Bringing beauty out of gutted brokenness

And healing to ravaged hearts

and colour to bled-out lives

and hope to despairing emptiness.

Not 

a silver lining around our sorrows

but the thread of

constancy

and 

steadfastness

and 

faithfulness

that runs right 

through 

them.

Of Foxes & Farewells (an open letter)

 You weren’t allowed to peek inside.

 I’d been decorating the room for a month - secretly sneaking in an alphabet, a giant calendar, fun little music shakers, math manipulatives, a table, and chairs – but you and Don were not allowed to peek inside until that very first day of school.

 And when that day arrived, so began our Homeschool journey together.

Over the years, our family grew. Our classroom spilled over to invade every single space of our home, our yard, our life.  Books piled onto every horizontal surface, schedules taped to cupboard doors, a motto for education written in word art and hanging on the living room wall:

 “A true education begins with WONDER and ends with WISDOM”.

For a while, every subject was taught and led and supervised by me.  I sat by your side and traced letters with you, shaping the sounds aloud together.  My fingers followed the words on the page that you read.  We sang songs.  We memorized Bible verses and poems. 

We were tethered together.  Side by side.  Mom and son.  Teacher and student.

But as you got older, you became more independent, more confident, more capable and, soon, I was sending you off to tackle subjects on your own while I traced letters with your siblings. 

It wasn’t always magical. 

There was a lot of mess.  A lot of tears.  A lot of times when I had to speak words of truth and encouragement to you.  A lot of times when you had to speak words of truth and encouragement to me.

But the beauty of homeschooling is its flexibility; so your studies and learning ebbed and flowed around the broken, messy shape of our lives, our health issues, our schedules. 

It was messy.  But there was also magic.

You read books, wrote essays, multiplied algebraic expressions, coded.

But you also joined a homeschool hockey program, hiked, played in sport’s tournaments, joined in with co-op classes and school fairs, made new friends. 

And as you grew older, you needed my help less.  My supervision less.  My teaching less.  You were no longer tethered to my side, holding my hand to cross the street, asking for my assistance with every question. 

I still sit beside you to wrestle through coding problems or give advice on how you drive or discuss theological topics; but there are times now when you teach me.  (like:  How to use a phone without throwing it! )

You know, parenting is this delicate dance of holding on and letting go.  And as your parent and homeschool teacher of twelve years, I’m feeling the disquieting tug of this dance even more. 

I want to hold on.  To keep you by my side, in our homeschool bubble, and near.

But I want to let go.  To see you grow, learn, and soar.

And then yesterday, your little brother finished his read-aloud….a story of a boy and a fox…..and the final scene reduced me.

"No,” commanded the boy to the fox, “I don't want you to stay.  I'll always leave the porch door open, but you have to go."

It eloquently articulated the unsettled mixed-up feelings of parenting/ homeschool teaching….to want to hold on.  To need to let go.

So, my son, next year you will walk away from the VanHuisstede Homeschool Academy and, God willing, attend Grade 12 at a local public school.  It’s the next step that we’ve prayed over, agonized over, talked over, discussed over and over.

You no longer need me tethered to your side or holding your hand.  And, even though I kinda want you to stay, its time to go. 

Liam, I’ll always leave the porch door open, but you have to go.

Love always,

Mom

Expose Yourself (or The Great Unmasking of 2022)

I wore a mask to church today.  I sang at the top of my lungs, recited parts of the church liturgy, and even chatted afterwards with friends from behind it.  I continued to exaggerate and concentrate facial expression with my eyes - dramatically raised brows, overly crinkled eyes, theatrically softened glances, elaborately furrowed frowns – because I’ve learned and adapted and grown accustomed to this masked world I’ve lived in for the past two years; a world forever altered by the covid-19 virus. 

Today, I wore a mask, but tomorrow, I’m putting my mask away.

Heck, I might even wash the beautiful, flower-patterned one that I’ve kept in my pocket or in my purse or over my face for the majority of these last years.  I might begin wearing lipstick when I go out again (okay, I never actually wore lipstick…but I might start!).  I’ll have to learn how to reanimate the lower half of my face when conversing.  It’s time for my teeth, lips, and tongue to take an active, animated part in all the socializing I plan to do tomorrow and the next day and the next.  Because tomorrow, I’m taking it off.  I’m exposing myself.  The mask will be tossed into a pile of covid memorabilia that I’ve amassed over the past two years.

How about you?

Are you ready-set-going to expose that beautiful face of yours?  Shock everyone with the mustache you’ve been secretly growing and grooming?  Awe everyone with those gleaming white teeth?  Impress everyone with smiles, grimaces, clenched or slack jaws?  Or perhaps you’ve taken that mask off long long long ago.

Either way, tomorrow we collectively unmask.  Lay bare.  Expose ourselves.

And it’s time to do the same with our hearts.

What just happened?  And who have I become?

I encourage you to take a good long look at yourself.  I plan to do the same.  Let’s call it “Me Unmasked”.  Because we are skipping or running or limping or crawling out of a pandemic that has forever changed our lives and it’s time to reflect on how we’ve reacted to covid, how we’ve grown, and if this is a healthy place to remain. 

There’s this thing that happens when trauma strikes; trauma can take the form of a pandemic, a war, social isolation, illness, death.  There’s this thing that happens when trauma strikes; trauma erodes the world we know and recognize; it blurs the familiar edges of it even as it readjusts, alters, fashions the world and its people into a new place with brave new people that are rising up out of the ashes and ruins of the old. 

Like it or not, this world has changed.  Like it or not, we have changed.

How have you and I reacted to covid?  Did you get sick?  Did I adhere to policies?  Did you get vaccinated?  Did I wear a mask?  

How have you and I grown?  Are you angry? Am I sad? Have you destroyed relationships? Have I become obsessed with resistance? Are you closer to God?  Is my faith stronger?

Are you and I in a healthy place?  What have I learned ABOUT MYSELF?  How have I grown?  Am I happy with this brave new person?  Is she someone who shows love to others and love to God? 

There are different ways to experience hardship.  We can resist hardship; adjust to hardship; succumb to hardship.  Either way, we grow.  Some of us are emerging stronger, more beautiful, and resilient.  Some of us have become deformed, weaker, uglier, and rigid.

Today, as we collectively unmask, I encourage you to take a good long look at the naked truth. 

What just happened and who have I become?

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bv

Good-bye, not Good Riddance. A Reflection on 2021.

I confess: I spent too much time and energy wishing away the days of 2021. 

When lockdowns happened, I eagerly looked ahead to their ending.

When group sizes were reduced, I bemoaned their tiny gathering sizes and planned parties for the future.

When things got cancelled, shut down, or re-arranged, I had adult-sized temper tantrums that may have included ugly crying.

There were fires, there were floods, there was the discovery of mass, unmarked graves of indigenous children; there was division, there was unrest, there were families and churches dividing and I kept looking ahead to the time when this would All. Be.Over.

And in the process of wishing away the bad and the ugly, I’ve also been wishing away the good. 

Covid, natural disasters, and the revelation of horrible historical moments have not been the only things and events that have defined 2021.

In 2021, my family continued to grow older; we celebrated birthdays and anniversaries, healed from surgery or injury, lost teeth, got a driver’s license. My church continued to worship God online and offline; we sang new songs, prayed together, and continued to find creative ways to reach out into the community.  My neighbours continued to walk their dogs; to share baking and books and stories.  My homeschool group continued to hike, explore, study, and play sports.  My sons played hockey. My daughter rode horses. My husband worked more often from home. And, even against the backdrop of so many challenges and hardships this past year, there have been pockets of joy and much to cherish.

So I won’t say Good Riddance to 2021. Only Good-bye.

Though many parts of 2021 were messy and difficult, I don’t want to wish away this one wild and precious life that God’s given me. I want to live. I want to cherish all the moments: the good, the bad, even the ugly.

And I encourage you to do the same.

Life is way too short to be wished away.

Instead, let’s abide by the words of Psalm 90:12: “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.”

Every single one of us – from the 94 year old great-grandfather to the tiniest newborn baby – are sojourners of this earth. We’re born. We live. We die. Our stay is fleeting and temporary, so let’s live our lives well. Let’s live trusting that God is in control. Let’s live confident that God walks alongside us through trials, troubles, and joy.  Let’s seek out and share beauty, kindness, encouragement, and love. Let’s live abundantly. We have only one lifetime to do so.

And as the time-sands of 2021 dwindle away, let’s look back and reflect before moving forward into 2022. Let’s each look to ourselves and ask: what have I learned and how have I grown in the last year?

1.    What has been hard?

2.    What been wonderful?

3.    What tools helped me through difficulties and enabled me to celebrate the good?

4.    How have these experiences shaped me, my relationship with God, and my relationships with others?  

My friends, this past year was not a waste of time. This past year was not a furtive unfolding that existed outside of God’s control and plans, nor was it an accumulation of days to be discarded or dismissed.

Instead, 2021 was a monumental year of memories and moments that challenged us, strengthened us, weakened us, grew us, revealed our hearts.

So, don’t say Good Riddance.

Instead reflect on 2021 – number your days, gain that wisdom - then say Good-bye.

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bv

 

 

 

The Best Way Forward

Can we find our way back to each other?

Is it possible for us to reach across our cavernous divides and be together again?

Some of my best friends are vaccinated. And some of my best friends are anti-vax.

We’ve shared awkward moments and conversations that got heated. I went home and asked my husband, “Can I be friends with someone who thinks so differently from me? Can our friendship survive?”

Without skipping a beat, he said, “Of course.” He is so wise.

So, today, with equal confidence and assurance, I want to tell you that OF COURSE you can find your way back to each other, even reaching across your cavernous divides of differing opinions and stances on ALL THINGS COVID.

Of course you can still be friends, family members, a church family, neighbours and co-workers.  There is a way back to each other, but it must be a way that is deliberately chosen. It will take work and effort.

There is a most excellent way, and it is the way of love.

“Love is PATIENT, love is KIND. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It DOES NOT DISHONOR OTHERS, it is not self-seeking, it is NOT EASILY ANGERED, it keeps no records of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It ALWAYS protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love NEVER fails.” (1 Corinthians 13: 4-8a)

When we chose the way of love, we are patient and kind with each other. We listen to what the other person has to say. We lean in and say, “tell me more, I’m curious about why you feel that way” even when we really want the person to stop talking.

Love gives space and grace for differing opinions rather than hiding out and hunkering down with our comfy and easy homogenous groups. Love is not easily angered because it understands that we are all a little scared and anxious and uncertain; love sees that we are all grappling for footholds of truth that will allow us to clamber out of our pits of despair. But the Bible doesn’t tell us, “Thou shalt not be vaccinated” or “Ye shall be vaccinated” . It really doesn’t; I checked.

But the Bible does tell us that the most excellent way forward is with LOVE.

The truth in all this COVID mess is that we’ve completely lost our ability to love through differences. We’ve lost our way and it’s threatening our fragile and tentative holds on one another.

Let’s chose love.

How?

1.    Recognize that we are all more than our COVID stance.

 

2.    If you talk about divisive topics (ie. vaccinations, masks, church as essential and other hot topics. I can provide more if you need to amp up the heat.)  If you talk about divisive topics KNOW WHEN TO STOP.

a.    Establish ground rules. Perhaps set a timer and say, “Okay, let’s chat about this for 15 minutes” and go for it. Stop when the timer goes.

b.    Do not attack each other. “You’re so stupid” and “You just think this because you’re an idiot” should not factor into this conversation.

c.    Listen to one another. Be curious about WHY people think what they do.

d.    Laugh/love/pray it off. “Whew, that was heated! Let’s pray together and drop it.”

e.    Drop it. We really don’t need to keep beating this horse. Honestly. He’s pretty dead.

f.     Remember the other things you have in common: Books. Work. Cheering for The Leafs. Go ahead and talk about them.

g.    Go ahead and say, “Wow. I don’t agree with you at all. BUT I do love you very much.” We can all use this assurance.

 

3.    Respond and React better. Someone who is angry and attacking is almost always hurting or afraid. Can you absorb some negative energy today and respond, instead, with love? We really don’t need to keep volleying our angry words. Be gracious. Let words drop to the ground and step right over them.

 

Friends, it’s a hurting world out there. I’ve seen families torn apart, churches broken up, friendships divided and all because we’ve allowed this to happen.

Today, let’s stop.

Of course we can find our way because Jesus has shown it to us time and again. Go forth into this day and with all your beautiful relationships and CHOOSE the way of love.

 

(dedicated to all those who are hurting from loss and angry words.)

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BV

The Art of Convalescing Well: REST!

 Years ago, I read a book* about genetically mutated humans that NEVER needed sleep.

As a result, they were able to accomplish more, do more, be more than the rest of the human race. They were the "Sleepless" people who regarded the "Sleepers" as lesser than.

After reading this book, I aspired to be a Sleepless person.

"It's so genius!" I remember thinking. If I could eliminate sleep, just think of all I could do, see and accomplish!!

But.....we were not designed this way.

Humanity has been specifically fashioned to NEED sleep and rest.

Isn't that interesting?

Doesn't it seem like our Almighty Creator God could have developed a more efficient and sleeker design when He made us? One that didn't need to stop-drop-and-rest every few hours?

But he didn't and so we need sleep EVERY single day. We need rest and time to recover, recoup, and renew.

We come to the outer limits of ourselves, I think, so that we remember we are NOT doing life on our own. We are reminded that we need to be plugged into Someone or Something that recharges our bodies, souls, and minds.

And that Someone is God.

It's a little like my phone. It works great until the battery runs out. And then it doesn't work at all until I've left my phone plugged into it's charger for a while.

The need for rest keeps us plugged into God. It keeps us connected on a regular basis because we need that Every-Single- Day connection and reminder that we are never alone in this life.

Truth be told, I'm terrible at Resting. I resist and fight it tooth and nail. But in my life, I've been forced MANY times to REST....and it's done my body, my soul, and my mind good.

Doesn't it awe you that the best way to convalesce and heal is to rest? Not doing more, spending more, thinking more......just rest?

It reminds me that humanity has limitations and a great need for God.

So, today, may you and I find rest. May we be recharged and renewed for the day ahead. And may we always seek our daily connection to a God who provides our rest.

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BV

#womenencouragers #rest #artofconvalescingwell

*"Beggars in Spain" by Nancy Kress.

The Art of Convalescing Well: ASK FOR HELP!

Why is it so incredibly hard to ask for help?

Is it pride?

Is it that deep-rooted sense of separation and individuation developed in toddlerhood; the sense that insists, "I can do it myself!?"

Is it shame? We don't want anyone to see our mess.

Is it guilt? We don't want to be anyone's burden.

Is it fear of being vulnerable, truly vulnerable around others?

We all want to be viewed as someone whose got their stuff together, who's capable and strong, who's independent and able-bodied.

But here's the thing: every single one of us experiences moments of inability, suffering, and hardship in our life. Probably many times over.

And these are moments when we NEED and MUST ask for help.

God has created us for community, after all. He created us to be in relationship with and helpmates for each other.

It's God's way of wrapping his loving arms around us in our times of need....the physical, tangible presence of God in the form of family, friends, neighbors, small group members, co-workers gathering around to help.

But we must ask.

People are not mind-readers.

Did you know that it takes greater courage and strength to ask for help that it does to give it?

When you ask for help, you admit you cannot do this on your own and your vulnerability takes Great Courage and Strength.

So...ask.

Be clear of your needs: I need help with this and this.

Be willing to ask more than just the "expected" people; so often God brings help from unexpected places.

Be thankful and gracious.

In asking for help, you will learn how it feels to be this needy person. You will experience this side of life and become more aware of how to better help others...someday when you are well again.

Ask for help.

We were never meant to convalesce alone.

"All praise to the God and Father....He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so we can be there for that person just as God was there for us." 2 Corinthians 1: 3-5 MSG

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BV

#womenencouragers #convalescewell

#askforhelp #help #community #cascadeofcomfort