About Me

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I now live in Victoria, after a couple years on the North Shore of Vancouver, and a (too) brief time in the prairies. Working as an artist, mother and wife (not necessarily in that order), i am striving to live well, to find the truth of God in all things, and to pass on this truth to others.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010


i think that everyone of us, EVERY one, has this underlying fear that someday someone is going to figure out we don't know what we're doing.

if God were testing me, today i would not only have had red x's and circles and question marks written all around me and on me, but surely, surely i would have had some previous gold stars removed.

it began in the middle of the night with scott coughing until he puked.  my response?  compassion? care? love? are you kidding? i thought "of course you're sick.  of course.  because i'm sick, i've been nauseous all day and now you've upped me by puking and now i'm going to have to take care of you and YOU ALWAYS GET SICKER THAN ME!!!"

which, of course, entered the day with me and hovered over me until scott and i had it out around 10am, ending in this confession "i'm a not so nice wife" and the response "hmmmm".

i feel overwhelmed by the move, by the fact that the conditions on the sale of our home have had to be extended, jeopardizing the purchase of our new home.   today i have welcomed old thought patterns and actions that i fully intended to crucify the last time i dealt with them.  i have snapped at my children ("wipe your own bum and get out of the bathroom!!").  i've sulked and pouted and grumped.  for the last few hours i've had this phrase running through my head "i do what i do not want to do.  who can save me from this body of death?"

thanks be to God.  Thank you God that you don't keep score, that you do not own a red pen, that you smile at me and cry for me and dust me off and encourage me forward.  that you are fully aware i really don't know what i'm doing, and don't expect me to.  thank you.

i packed up my studio today, sealing the boxes that hold my creativity and expression and moments of grand escape.  but they're carefully labelled!  just in case.  we are scheduled to move into our new home in Saskatoon on November 24th, exactly three weeks from today.

three weeks of boxes and tape and where are the scissors? and deep breathing and goodbye and crying and food from friends and falling into bed and goodbye again and cleaning and forgetting and remembering and i don't want to say goodbye.

will there be enough time to say goodbye to this home of joy and laughter and miscarriage and depression and healing and prayer and birth and life?

will there be time to hold each of you and somehow express how i love you?

i do not want to fail at this.


  1. Oh Janet - how I wish I could be there to help or give you a big hug at least. moving is such a big thing and I hear the pain in your heart as life gets totally shaken up and turned around.
    We will be praying for you all in the next three weeks. Perhaps you will have to stop in Edmonton on your way through :)

  2. Visiting from Mel's blog. Before I forget - love the reference to Punchinello! :-)

    I recently had strep throat THREE times in 6 weeks. My husband didn't get it until I was pretty much over it the 3rd time. He didn't take a single day off while I was sick - which was really fine. We have 5 kids and homeschool, but my oldest 2 are girls and they're 9 and 12, so very very helpful. Plus, for part of the time my 18 year old niece was here. Anyway, that isn't the point. When he finally got sick (and did NOT get out of bed for 2 solid days), I was very very irate. Not very kind, loving and patient. Pretty much felt the same as you. I mean, I get strep THREE times. He gets it once, spikes a super high fever, doesn't get out of bed, moans and groans. Urgh. Men.

    Oh, and I've moved so many times it makes my head spin. I so get what you're saying about packing and saying goodbye and leaving behind everything. It is grief. It's like a death. It takes time and patience with yourself to get through it!

  3. great post.

    i love you.

    goodbye's are awful.