attachment

i've been feeling detached.
travelling to BC, travelling back home, three bouts of strepp, three rounds of antibiotics.  i'm stretched and a little less than i want to be.  i'm asking God what He wants of me in this day, with the express hope that His desires for me are:  bed, a novel, some chocolate....and, a lenten confession: tv.
it's been hard to dive into lent when i've been diving into my pillow, but i have been really enjoying spacious and quiet evenings, increased listening and reflection.  and monday i embraced sabbath more intentionally - dirty dishes piled up, unmade beds scoffed (i ignored), and a little more space was collected.  tuesday morning's kitchen reminded me sabbath rest does not come without cost.  hence, six days of work are also part of the commandment.

anyways, despite the travel and the sickness, God has been speaking and teaching me, specifically through the tuesday morning women's bible study i've been attending.  it's called "aiming for excellence" and although some mornings i'd settle for mediocrity, it has been a gift to gather with some friends and some near-strangers and dig into God's truth.    we've been working our way through Francis Chan's book "forgotten God", about the Holy Spirit.  this week we looked at Galatians 4:1-7, and verse 6 reads:
and because you are sons,God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, "Abba!  Father!"

I've read this verse many times, probably heard a number of sermons about it, but this week it clicked. 

i've been adopted.
and now the spirit of my Father lives in me, making me legitimate, to make me feel like a child of God.

i began thinking about the process of adoption, and the necessity of attachment.  i watched a dear friend walk through the adoption process, and saw this attachment issue up close.  adoptive parents are coached on the neccessity of "attachment", are encouraged to take time off work and spend as much time as possible with the new member of the family, to have lots of skin-on-skin contact, to try and make the connection that a parent would naturally make with their baby.  sometimes it doesn't work however, and, as in the case of my friend, the family had to move on without that attachment - and therefore a child in the family who feels they don't really fit, and a parent in the family who feels like a failure.  hard.  desperate. 
then, months later, during the summer something just clicked, and parent and child attached and became mother and son.  it was beautiful to see.

this "attachment" can't be forced, coerced or manipulated.  it is not rationally won.  it is intangible and vital.

i have been adopted into the family of God.  and the Holy Spirit has been placed in me to attach me to my Father.  He is there so that i can relax in trust, so that i can walk in confidence that I am loved and cared for and wanted.  isn't that beautiful?

so i'm trying to nestle into that attachment, with the desire to completely stop living as a slave in my Father's house - worried about messing up, grovelling to please, waiting for punishment, feeling powerless and fearful. 
it's time to be a daughter.

and what does this mean in the dishes and sickness and toilet training of my daily life?
well, i have a hypothesis:  right motivation.  love vs. guilt, honour vs. duty, confidence vs. control.

May the Holy Spirit dwell in you richly, and reveal to you your status as child, and gift you with your Father's embrace.

mindy mccartney, where are you?

this is going to start with a confession. 
i just came home after being in BC for 10 days.  those of you who have reason to be mad, PLEASE forgive me.  we came out for Scott's final Arrow class, which i was invited to attend three days of, so there really was not enough time to see everyone that i needed/wanted to see.  therefore, i kept it a secret.  a mistake?  perhaps.  but let me tell you right now that we're coming out again in August, and hopefully for long enough to have coffee/tea dates with anyone willing.  (jenna?  karen? crista?).  again, i am really sorry if i've hurt you.  can i tell you a funny story to make up for it?

scott's been in a leadership development program for two years now (the Arrow Leadership Program).  there are four week-long classes he's attended, and last week was the final week, so i was also invited to attend the last few days and graduation ceremony.  the class is held at Barnabas, a Christian retreat center/camp on Keats Island. for some reason i did not received any communication about how i was to get to this Island, so I called up my friend "Mindy" [pseudonym used for upcoming apparant reasons] and asked if i could just tag along with her.

this is all Mindy was told : meet at the horshshoe bay terminal before 3:45.

okay, no problem.  we decided to rendezvous at the starbucks in cloverdale and drive there together.  my mother-in-law and kids dropped me off.  i had to litterally remove my eldest child from my body (why oh why?) and get them all buckled into the car.  i reentered Starbucks, watched out the window as they began to drive away and took a big breath.  'this is going to be great' i thought. 
and then i thought 'where's my suitcase?'

in the trunk of the car.

i ran out the door, almost colliding with a woman, and thankfully stopped the car before it left.  got my suitcase out and into Mindy's van and we were off!

a side note:  let me introduce Mindy McCartney to you.  i've known her for 17 years now, not closely, but as acquaintances and now friends.  our husbands are best of friends.  i have always looked at Mindy as overly competent, cool, organized, ridiculously strong and purposeful and beautiful. she has 5 children, the oldest being 11 and the youngest (twins!) are 5.  in short, i really look up to her and am the teensiest bit jealous of her.  do you have a Mindy in your life?

well, first thing i noticed when i entered the van:  it wasn't spotless, in fact, far from it.  HALLELUJAH!  i thanked her and she confessed that she almost vacuumed it but didn't, and i thanked her again.

we had a lovely chat driving to the bay, feeling a little giddy about being child-free for a few nights, and relaxing back into our friendship.  we arrived, parked, and began lugging our suitcases to the terminal.

i didn't pack light.
in fact, i purposefully packed heavy because
       a) my husband was not there to tsk tsk
       b) i did not have to board a plane
       c) i wanted to bring the extra book and knitting and toiletries....

we got to the ticket counter and asked if the Arrow group had already boarded.  the ticket agent had no clue what we were talking about but informed us that if we wanted to catch the ferry we had 4 minutes to buy a ticket.
we deliberated, decided that they must have a bus or something on the ferry and we'd meet them on board, or, they were stuck in traffic and we might as well go on ahead of them

we bought the tickets.

they were not on the ferry.

we were headed to Bowen Island, which, frankly, is gorgeous.  i was feeling like a tourist, snapping pics with my phone out the windows.  we were chatting away, texting our husbands, waiting for some clarity and Mindy's phone rang.  this is basically what i heard:

"we're on the ferry..."
"no, we're ON the ferry..."
"WHAT?!!"
"OK, OK, OK, bye."

we weren't supposed to get on the ferry.  there was a water-taxi that was hired to take us directly to Keats from the terminal.  crap.  the phone rang again to tell us that now another shuttle was being sent to pick us up.

let me interject here with another important background piece:  Mindy had had a hard week. She had dropped Jim off on Sunday for Arrow, then went home to take care of their five kids, and get the house ready for selling - including the requisite cleaning and painting two rooms.  She was tired.  she was stretched.  she needed things to run smoothly. 

they didn't.

we disembarked from the ferry and stood on the dock waiting for the next phone call.  it came, and this is what i understand the phone call to contain:
"hello Mindy, when you get off the ferry, go to the right of the..."
"we're already off"
"what?  you can't be"
"we're standing on land.  we're off the boat"

"where are you?"
"Bowen Island"
"WHAT?!!"

i guess they thought we were on a different ferry going to Langdale, which is now where the second shuttle was heading.  Mindy began gesturing to me to get back on the boat.  i stood there staring at her, not comprehending.  she said "get back on the boat.  run."
i was running down the dock, lugging this ridiculously big suitcase.  i was wearing a cloche hat that a friend had given me, and dress pants and black boots because i just got my haircut and it looks awesome and i wanted my husband to immediately salivate...in short i looked highly high maintenance.  i could see the captain up on the top of the ferry and he picked up his speaker and said
"people running on the dock,... garble garble garble...the next ferry is in one hour".

here's where dear Mindy could handle life no further.  she started screaming "PLEASE!!  PLEASE!!"   the ferry has now pulled away from the dock.  "PLEASE!!  PLEASE!!" Mindy is now frantically waving her arms and signing please (hopefully the captain knew sign language, or else he must have thought it quite odd of her to be rubbing her chest in a circular pattern).  "PLEASE!!  PLEASE!!"

true confession:  i was dumbfounded.  this was Mindy McCartney!  Mindy always strong and put-together, screaming and begging and pleading.  the world was shifting.  this was unsettling.  and, sorry Mindy, totally awesome!

we decided to lick our wounds with a cup of tea.  we lugged our luggage (hey! that word makes sense now) up this hill and sat down for tea in a small shop that was already closed but took pity on us.  we were telling our story and someone helpfully informed us that the ferry was a dangerous goods passage, and therefore did not allow foot passengers.  ahhh.....  that helped.  i looked at Mindy and said "i think she is dangerous goods at the moment".  she agreed.

it was a wonderful cup of loose leaf earl grey.  and a small Cornish pie called a "pastie".

lugged the luggage back onto the ferry, and up the stairs again (Mindy calling out "use the other arm so that you tone evenly!").  just before docking back at the horseshoe terminal, we stopped to allow another ferry to dock first.  the Langdale ferry!  we realized that we were getting off the one ferry at the same time as the other would be leaving again.  ahhhhh!!! 

i said "Lord, it would be so nice if we could just see a whale right now.  that would be a gift on a stressful day"
Mindy said "what are you doing praying for whales!!  pray for the ferry!!!"

we talked to some passengers who informed us it would be better to disembark at the same level as the cars, because we would be closer to the ticket counter.  okay.  down the elevator (yes!  there was an elevator!!).  we run out of it, directly into the glare of a ferry worker explaining we could not exit until all the cars were off.

Mindy:  PLEASE!!!  PLEASE!!  (did she sign?  probably)
he ignored her.
PLEASE!!  PLEASE!!  SIR!!  this is like a guttural moan.  this is seriously coming up from her boots.
nothing.

finally, another worker takes pity on us.  he asks, we explain.  he says "why didn't you buy your tickets on the boat?"

at this point something must have shifted in the appearances of Mindy and myself, because from here on we were escorted by various ferry employees wherever we went. :)

up the elevator.  run run run.  buy the tickets.  "where now?"  escorted back down the elevator. 

as soon as those doors opened me and Mindy were off like a shot.  lugging.  sweating.  up up up the hill down down down to the adjacent ferry.  almost smash into the next worker. 

"WE NEED TO GET ON THAT FERRY!!"
"where's your tickets.          hmph.               sit there."
"CAN WE GET ON...WILL WE GET ON?!!!!"  [totally panicking]
"the ferry hasn't boarded yet."  [here the idea of me appearing totally high maintenance reenters the psyche].

we are escorted to the elevator.  i'm just starting to think, 'alright, we're on the right ferry, we're good', and i hear this sound behind me.  it was a very soft unidentifiable swish, and then an "UGH".

dear dear Mindy, devoted wife, had been carrying her husbands dry cleaned suit around all day, on a hanger that incidentally had been digging into her hand (note this Jim).  the pants had slipped off and onto the filthy car-level floor.  and here is where Mindy McCartney threw a fit.
she was also dressed quite nicely (probably in hopes of salivation as well) and had heeled boots on.  she stomped her feet BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! and made short syllabic sounds I-CAN'T-TAKE-IT-I- DON'T-IT-CAN'T with every foot pound.  it was loud.  it was unsightly. 
the man next to me looked at me with these wide scared eyes.  i probably looked the same.  Mindy stomped her way to us and into the elevator.  we lifted in silence. 

after sitting down Mindy calmly turned to me and said "i tell my kids not to have temper tantrums, but clearly i just did".
yes, you did.  and i would pay to see it again!

all ended well, thanks to a handy norwex cloth in my suitcase, and the owner of the camp coming out in his private little tug boat to pick us up.  we told our husbands over dinner and laughed until we cried.

i love you Mindy.  thank you for sharing your humanity with me.  aren't we all just holding on by our fingernails at times?  good thing there's laughter, and tea, and friendship to get us through.

i've decided that maybe i am high maintenance and just need to embrace it, cloche and all.

ash wednesday

well, those of you out in cyber space who read my last post must have been praying for me.  Last week was incredible.  I so enjoyed my children and husband and life.  i got extra time to paint and finished a sweet little portrait of my friend vanessa's youngest.  i had good conversations with friends, old and new.  it was wonderful. 
and now the dust of wednesday looms before me, and i welcome it's coming.  Lent.  It used to be a time i almost dreaded - i don't usually seek out self-denial on a daily basis.  but after a few years of this rhythm in my life, i see it as a time of refreshment, re-centering, re-configuring my life around God's desires. it's awesome. 
so, here's the plan for this year: 
  what I'm giving up:  television all week (except for sabbath), and sugar on Fridays.  it's historical to fast one day a week, usually Friday, but fasting should not be attempted by those with sickness, pregnancy (i'm not), breast feeding (again, i'm not) or women who turn into evil mommies when not given frequent nourishment (bingo!), so a partial fast is best.
  what I'm practicing:  i'd like to spend my usually watching t.v. time journalling, and writing letters.  i have not been journalling at all since i started to blog, so i'm looking forward to picking up my pen again (oooh, maybe i'll get a new one!).  the same goes for letter writing.  A dear friend of mine decided this year to forgo Christmas cards and instead write lovely letters to friends after Christmas.  She's inspired me (I love you Cori).  and i've been reading some amazing works of fiction lately and find that i just want to prioritize the written word in my life.   I'd also like to spend time reading non-fiction for a change :).  starting with Gary Thomas' book "sacred parenting", which explores the premise that parenting is designed for spiritual formation.  preach it.

tomorrow is fat Tuesday (is it phat?), but i think i'm going to pass on the pancakes.  i've been sick all week-end with a pretty brutal strepp throat (doctor said today "you win the prize for the worst throat i've seen all week".     yippee.) and therefore have not been cooking.  so, for my last meal i'm looking forward to a roasted rosemary chicken basted in butter and crying with deliciousness. 

i pray for a blessed beginning of lent for you all, a time of anticipation for what Christ will whisper in your ear as you journey with Him from the desert to the cross.