Aboard the Oosterdam

A week ago, although we'd stayed the night within walking distance to the terminal, we took a shuttle to our waiting ship in order to avoid getting wet in a city that is hailed to have nothing but blue sky. (ahem)
We rolled our tagged luggage to its designated area, went through security and, upon embarkation, headed to the buffet line for lunch.



The afternoon slipped by quickly as we found our cabin with our luggage inside, met our steward, unpacked, got briefed on safety (escape) procedures at our designated  muster stations and visited with  friends.

The San Diego skyline floated into the distance as we sailed away in the early evening.

For the next five days the Pacific Ocean was our front yard and our back yard, the vast expanse of water never ceasing to amaze me!

Every day, before dinner, we did laps on the the third deck promenade . . .

often catching the sun as it went down,

and always leaving us with a sense of awe.

Every night we dressed up and went for dinner. Totally spoiled!

And after dinner we had dessert, reminding us of the need to walk again the next day. I could have continued this cycle for a bit longer . . . but all good things must come to an end. So they say.

500th Post

Three years ago I braved the unknown world of bloggers and readers of blogs to publish my first post. I wrote, “my desire is that through my journaling I will be able to better see the hand of God in my life as a whole and in the every day. In seeing the brevity in the stages of our life, I wish to focus on appreciating the moments.”

“Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world.”

Sarah Ban Greathnach

Ann Voscamp, in One Thousand Gifts, began a daily recording of simple things she was grateful for. It is evident that naming her blessings was the beginning of her journey of joy. I only read this very recently and I related it in a small way to my blogging. For when one is on the look out to really see … there is much more to see and enjoy.

Again and again, thanksgiving precedes the miracle of joy. Have you ever noticed the face of someone being thanked? And does her joy not bring joy to you as well? A whole world opens up in the act of recognition and filling in spaces, giving meaning to things invisible. Ann refers to Martin Luther , “If you want to change the world, pick up your pen,” and John Piper, “There are eyes in pencils and pens.” She writes, “that habit of discontentment can only be driven out by hammering in one iron sharper. The sleek pin of gratitude.”

I read how naming bestows meaning and value. Is that not the first thing parents do when a child is born? Products are recognized as to their value by names. I suppose there is a reason that a no-name product comes with an unspoken message of being cheap.

One Thousand Gifts is a breath of life-giving joy as I follow Ann’s naming of simple joys. She concedes that she desires to learn the hard giving of thanks for the “dark skies and prodigal sons” . . . but that we begin with the insignificant, the small things … because this, the giving of thanks, is a learning process.

So, with camera or pen in hand, I look for and name the moments. Moments I can look at long after they have passed … and remember with joy. This does not mean my life is only filled with good things, but maybe I can learn to give thanks in everything so that one day I may say, with the apostle Paul, “ I have learned to be content in whatever circumstance I am.”

Written with a thankful heart for all the reasons to name my blessings and for your part in giving me joy and encouragement . . . to keep writing.
Anneliese

Reflections on an Emptier Fuller Life

Seven years ago, today, we took our daughter and husband, with their two year-old and wee twelve week old, to the international departures at YVR, their earthly belongings packed into suitcases, ready for a “no known expiry date” adventure across the ocean. A country I was literally oblivious to until it became a destination . . . a place to call home for our precious cargo.

I read in my journal (dated November 1, 2004) …

It was with a sense of apprehension that I turned the calendar page this morning. The tears flow so easily and sometimes get triggered by the smallest things. Is it because at times like this, one appreciates the small things? Life is a wonderful experience of many small things . . . a walk in the park, a smile, a cry of delight, a shared meal, a note, a special song on the radio, a hug, a phone call, just “being together” . . .I was looking for a promise for “me” this week. I have this desire, Lord, to meet with you. To have You say “that all will be well” and feel a comfort that You alone can give. I’m rushing around trying to be ready to have some great family time in these next days, but I feel like I’m so concerned about having “things” ready that I neglect to prepare my heart. I so desire a heart at peace. I pray that You will fill me with your comfort and peace. Give me strength to go through this next week with grace and joy. Help me to fully and unreservedly enjoy the special moments, without the sadness that lingers over each event. In Revelations 21:4 it says “He will wipe every tear from their eyes…” I know that is for the future , but I pray that You will do this now too … replace my tears with the ability to say the right things and the ability to show forth your grace and strength … not my ability but a testimony to the love and care you provide in each situation.”

In the book I’m reading at the moment, One Thousand Gifts, Ann Voskamp describes a personal tragedy that left her grieving and empty, claiming that she would have written the story differently. The mystery of why God allows certain things or leads in a certain direction is one that asks the question. Why? Why could it not have been another way? Someone told her the reality of just such a story, concluding with … “Maybe you do not want to change the story, because you don’t know what a different ending holds.”

Ann goes on to tell of the children of Israel feeding on manna … manna, meaning what is it? It was a mystery that they were eating on a daily basis. She writes, “I think of buried babies… a world pocked with pain and all the mysteries I have refused to let nourish me … I wonder if the rent in the canvas of our life backdrop, the losses that puncture our world . . . might actually become places to see. To see through to God.”

As I read this I remembered the tearing away I felt on that day, seven years ago. The hole in the canvas of my life. I imagined my life empty. . . and yet . . . I’ve seen what God has given. He did not take. He gave . . . love . . . unique and special.

The story I would have written would have been selfish. The story God wrote was one of expressing selfless love. I would have thought seven years too long. God knew it would refine us. It is a mystery of having given, yet feeling richer . . . as we joined in the adventure with our kids the only way we could, from far off. Now we are here… at the other end . . . with a coming home date. I can say it has been a good seven years. Not easy, but good.

I ask for faith to trust God to keep writing our story. He does it best.

November, 2004

Shaun and Kristal flew home from California to say farewell. This family photo was taken a few days before Chris and Julene's departure. I remember the photographer (Imagemakers) starting to set us up. He started with my H and me . . . and as he stood there thinking whom to call next... Tehya came and determinedly plopped herself on my lap. I noticed he looked a little surprised, but then decided it would work. In photos such as this, it is best to please the littlest ones... and the Grammy fighting tears.

When I was saying the Lord had given... I was not thinking of what I am going to say now. Numbers combined, there are seven kids and grandkids on this photo. If you were to do a re-count in just a few months you'd see seven added family members. Seven significant years. I stand amazed!

From Boys for their Moms

In my possession are two wooden trays. I know these trays would not hold much value at any given garage sale. You will find much nicer ones in the cute kitchen stores. But, as you may have guessed by now, these trays are very special to me.

In a high school woodworking class, many years ago, a boy made this tray for his mom. By the time it was passed down to me, it looked like it had been loved for many years. One corner has a fair sized burn mark that I can only guess at how it happened and, looking close, I take note of faint circular stains from the likes of hot canning jars, yet the slats of wood have a nice acquired smooth texture.

 

I suppose it was about thirty years later, because that's the difference in age between father and son, a new tray was skillfully crafted by a boy for his mom, in a woodworking class. His sister added some touches with her paintbrush . . . and that is how I came to have two similar trays. Both special.

The thing is . . . these trays are very practical in that they fit an 11x17 cookie sheet just perfectly! And since in this Mennonite home pies and pizzas may be made by the yard ... slipping a hot dish into a serving tray comes in very handy.

If you have not already done so .. why not peek at that pizza recipe on mennonitegirlscancook? All you  need is a crust, sloppy joe sauce and cheese. Sloppy joes without the sloppiness, really.

Miss Modesty

Okay ... I was not quite done with those dress up photos . . .

My sweet pea wanted a photo alone.

I took it.

She came to me to check it out on the viewer, then quickly scooted back to pose again.

With a minor adjustment.
I never said a thing.
That's my old skirt she's wearing.

Playing Dress Up

One of these days I will be on the look-out for a chest and some new play clothes. I imagine Cinderella dresses, fancy scarves and the like. What I have now is a large cardboard box and clothes our kids played dress-up with.

 

Can you tell? Although it does not seem to bother them too much .. . I'm certainly ready for a new look. Funny, when I see this photo I think of the musical Annie and a certain conniving couple, part of the line-up, claiming to be Annie's parents. But that's a movie for when they are older. Sigh ... so much to look forward to yet! I hope that one day they will be in musicals.