its always wrong to do anything you can't tell the minister's wife. it's as good as an extra conscience to have a minister's wife for your friend. - anne shirley.
i told this quote to lindsey, a bosom buddy who's also a pastor's wife, and said something along the lines of "you might be that at first, but then you open your mouth."
good point.
i wonder if, more than an extra conscience, i'm more like a (healthy?) dose of freedom: if janet can do it....(and she's a pastor's wife!!). ah, dear, i do hope i influence for good.
well, we are on our first week of holiday. we've been getting lots done around the backyard - fence painted, cherry tree planted, garden composted, etc.. i raided a friend's garden and came home with buckets full of lillies and irises and other beautiful things that i have no names for. my flower garden is filling out, my vegetable garden is growing well (i think...i really have no clue), we have luscious green grass, a playground, and truly a background wonderland. this home is really a beautifully wrapped present every day.
our church is working through the Lord's prayer this summer, and this morning's sermon was on "hallowed by your name". the preacher's main point was that how we view the character of God (his name) affects our character. for example, if we believe He is altogether trustworthy, we will live lives of faith and trust and obedience. our characters will be marked by confidence, hope and perseverance. but, if we believe God is not to be completely trusted, we will despair, we will be tight-fisted, cynical, conflicted, angry.
there is a quote from someone that scott often says: "you become that which you worship". so, my question for myself today is, who do i believe God really is?
this filter also changes how we read scripture. if I believe that God is holy and just i will read the journey of Isreal in the old testament differently than if I believe God is heavy-handed, cruel, or disinterested. what characteristics of God do I bring to His story? can we trust that He is who He says He is?
i think that we can.
(I'm also still working on it as well)
i have been aware lately of how my character is rubbing off on my children, especially my 7-year old daughter. maybe 7-year olds are naturally in a state of developmental angst, but it seems my girl is angry. she's angry at me, at her zipper, at her brother, at her swingset, at the sales representative at Canadian Tire (possibly ligitimate), at her bandaid and dinner. I can't help fearing that my tendencies to grumble, my lack of patience, and my many frustrations have begun to stick to her like tar. how do i begin the work of wiping it off? of releasing her from her mother's weaknesses and failings? how painful to see the ugliness of my sin reflected on my beautiful child.
so, pray for me in this. summer vacation is like a pressure cooker for family matters isn't it?
i hope yours are going well!
kindred spirits and buddies of bosom to you all,
janet.
About Me
- janet anderson
- 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.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
bikes, moths, and my painting life.
it's been a good week.
for those of you who have been praying about my weird illness, i have had numerous tests and exams and nothing has come up, so it seems it's just a virus. and i've been feeling well for two days now, so hopefully it's gone! thanks so much for your concern fr me and mine. it was a very strange and often scary experience.
let me tell you about the best part of my last week. we went on a family bike ride to the zoo. :)
picture me: pink helmet (of COURSE i wear a helmet Cori, how could i ever look Vanessa in the face again if i didn't?), pink bike, big smile, wind in my hair (well, the hair that's not in the helmet), backpack on my back. my four year old is in front of me on his running bike, legs flying, seeking out any puddles along the way. my seven your old is on her training-wheel-free flower-dappled bike behind me, concentrating hard and calling out rules such as "okay, when mommy needs to stop she'll say "STOP" and then I'll repeat "STOP" so that daddy knows behind me that I'm stopping okay?". then Scott, my delightful man, pulling up the rear, keeping an eye on all of us (because Lord knows, any one of us could topple).
it takes us approximately 10 minutes to get from our front door to the entrance of the zoo. zutt alore! and when we do arrive the zoo is closed because of a power outage. it's open every day of the year, but we hit it the one time it's closed. ah, well, the ride was worth it. and we did get to go into the butterfly greenhouse for a picnic lunch.
which brings me to another great moment. a butterfly landed on my shoulder. i know, this is a normal occurrence in the butterfly pavilion i'm sure, but did you know that I'm afraid of moths? yes, after all my talk about overcoming fear, i let out that embarrassing tidbit of information. to my credit, i was attacked by a family of them as a child. yes, a family of moths.
attacked.
me.
so i'm standing in this greenhouse, surrounded by my nemesis' cousins and one lands on my shoulder and scott calls out "look! mommy's special!" and i say "i'm like Snow White!" (as an aside, i've always dreamed that if i were to find myself alone in a forest the woodland creatures would come and cuddle with me - birds on my shoulders, squirrels on my lap, a deer by my side....drawn no doubt by my princess-like nature and purity of heart).
secretly, i'm a little uneasy about this butterfly touching me. but then i think, maybe this is an ambassador from the moth-like nation proclaiming peace at last! maybe it's time to let go of my morbid hatred of the moth species. maybe it's whispering "can't we all just get along?". it is a white butterfly, like a little flag of surrender.
can you believe that i actually think like this? thank God for anne of green gables, she makes me feel normal.
okay, my last great thing from the week...i FINALLY finished the painting I've been working on for months. after 45 1/2 hours of work, here it is. forgive me for the crooked pic, as soon as the sun's out i'll take a better on and replace it.
![]()
for those of you who have been praying about my weird illness, i have had numerous tests and exams and nothing has come up, so it seems it's just a virus. and i've been feeling well for two days now, so hopefully it's gone! thanks so much for your concern fr me and mine. it was a very strange and often scary experience.
let me tell you about the best part of my last week. we went on a family bike ride to the zoo. :)
picture me: pink helmet (of COURSE i wear a helmet Cori, how could i ever look Vanessa in the face again if i didn't?), pink bike, big smile, wind in my hair (well, the hair that's not in the helmet), backpack on my back. my four year old is in front of me on his running bike, legs flying, seeking out any puddles along the way. my seven your old is on her training-wheel-free flower-dappled bike behind me, concentrating hard and calling out rules such as "okay, when mommy needs to stop she'll say "STOP" and then I'll repeat "STOP" so that daddy knows behind me that I'm stopping okay?". then Scott, my delightful man, pulling up the rear, keeping an eye on all of us (because Lord knows, any one of us could topple).
it takes us approximately 10 minutes to get from our front door to the entrance of the zoo. zutt alore! and when we do arrive the zoo is closed because of a power outage. it's open every day of the year, but we hit it the one time it's closed. ah, well, the ride was worth it. and we did get to go into the butterfly greenhouse for a picnic lunch.
which brings me to another great moment. a butterfly landed on my shoulder. i know, this is a normal occurrence in the butterfly pavilion i'm sure, but did you know that I'm afraid of moths? yes, after all my talk about overcoming fear, i let out that embarrassing tidbit of information. to my credit, i was attacked by a family of them as a child. yes, a family of moths.
attacked.
me.
so i'm standing in this greenhouse, surrounded by my nemesis' cousins and one lands on my shoulder and scott calls out "look! mommy's special!" and i say "i'm like Snow White!" (as an aside, i've always dreamed that if i were to find myself alone in a forest the woodland creatures would come and cuddle with me - birds on my shoulders, squirrels on my lap, a deer by my side....drawn no doubt by my princess-like nature and purity of heart).
secretly, i'm a little uneasy about this butterfly touching me. but then i think, maybe this is an ambassador from the moth-like nation proclaiming peace at last! maybe it's time to let go of my morbid hatred of the moth species. maybe it's whispering "can't we all just get along?". it is a white butterfly, like a little flag of surrender.
can you believe that i actually think like this? thank God for anne of green gables, she makes me feel normal.
okay, my last great thing from the week...i FINALLY finished the painting I've been working on for months. after 45 1/2 hours of work, here it is. forgive me for the crooked pic, as soon as the sun's out i'll take a better on and replace it.
alright, so I'm sure you're thinking "what the heck is that?"
here's the vision that was given to me by a beautiful woman who's a pastor in Ontario:
My deep heart break is for the wounded and broken who've lost their way to the Father.
I see a shining city - much like those city-state fortresses pictured in medieval epics (think, "The White City" from the Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King). This is the city of God. Angels and saints stand along the ramparts of the mighty city wall, calling and shouting to the chaos outside. In the muck and mire of the earth a churned up battle field stretches for miles and miles. At first glance, it appears to be a writhing, rhythmic groundswell. But on closer inspection, we see the bodies. Some are violently engaged in battle. Some lie broken and battered in the mud. Some run from the horror, but can't find a way out. And dotting here and there in this horrific landscape are men and women wearing the armor of the city, holding tight to the hands of the wounded and lost, weaving in and out of the battle, side-stepping skirmishes here and raising their swords to fight, there, guiding the broken to the gates of the city where the Prince stands to receive them, to heal them, to love them.
Some were sent out in armor to bring in the lost, but were themselves deeply wounded in battle. That's who I go to. That's who I've been sent to bring home. Those are the focus of my search.
I see a shining city - much like those city-state fortresses pictured in medieval epics (think, "The White City" from the Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King). This is the city of God. Angels and saints stand along the ramparts of the mighty city wall, calling and shouting to the chaos outside. In the muck and mire of the earth a churned up battle field stretches for miles and miles. At first glance, it appears to be a writhing, rhythmic groundswell. But on closer inspection, we see the bodies. Some are violently engaged in battle. Some lie broken and battered in the mud. Some run from the horror, but can't find a way out. And dotting here and there in this horrific landscape are men and women wearing the armor of the city, holding tight to the hands of the wounded and lost, weaving in and out of the battle, side-stepping skirmishes here and raising their swords to fight, there, guiding the broken to the gates of the city where the Prince stands to receive them, to heal them, to love them.
Some were sent out in armor to bring in the lost, but were themselves deeply wounded in battle. That's who I go to. That's who I've been sent to bring home. Those are the focus of my search.
so, an amazing vision and a daunting project. it's been an incredible challenge: 5 different pics involved, some from the internet, some taken with models, and i had to hunt down chain mail and a sword (thank God i live in Saskatchewan!). i have felt very honoured to hold this amazing woman's heart in my brushstrokes, and to paint something that reveals God's truth and calling and the beauty of His saving kingdom.
that said, i'm glad it's over. :)
scott starts holidays monday and we're looking forward to a "staycation" until the 25th when we fly to BC (yippee!!!). there's a waterski competition on the river this weekend, and the "taste of Saskatchewan" festival next week. i love life in the city.
blessings and rest to you all.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
little life tidbits.
picture me:
i'm on the couch in my (mercifully) air-conditioned house, in a sleeping bag because i'm too cold. ( i know! stop yelling. i turned it down, or up, whatever). the bourne ultimatum is on the tele, and beside me is a plate of strawberries, fairtrade chocolate, a lovely buttery havarti, and some crackers. my kids are sleeping. it's about to thunderstorm. ah, perfection.
i picked my first vegetable from my garden yesterday - a single pea pod which i shared with my family (everyone gets a tiny bite!). they applauded me. i felt like i had received a shiny gold star. everyday my kids spend hours in the backyard. we were given a swing set by friends from the church, complete with slide and rings, so now we have a bonified playground out our back door. sincerely? i wonder how i could be more blessed.
today scott preached on Sabbath and the beauty of God's call to rest: to remember his miraculously taking us out of our self-slavery, to cease our striving as though we are the center of the universe, and to bless others. it was a beautiful, lung-filling word to the weariness of soul and body. i was asked last-minute to sing on the worship team, so I had that joy. man, i don't know how much i've missed leading until I get the chance to do it again. there's nothing like purposefully calling others to worship that makes me enter into worship myself. I picture myself in this giant throneroom, before a beautiful throne of light, and i sing my heart out and will the people around me to do the same. i don't know if they do - my eyes are always closed!- but i hope.
i've been dealing with a strange sickness the last week-and-a-half. it started out as pain in my lower back - like someone was waxing it and had just ripped off the wax, but that feeling lasted throughout the day. the next day the same pain was on the top of my left thigh. and the next two, my right hand and upper arm. weird eh? anyways, it's led to vertigo for a day and now some pretty sharp side pain.
sometimes in the middle of the night i will think i'm dying. I will picture my beautiful children and wish I had more time, i'll look at my husband sleeping and try to memorize his face once more. then the next day i'll be totally fine, thinking it's just a virus (which, honestly, it most likely is) and that i need to stop being such a drama queen. but those moments of fear....
i used to live with fear as a companion for many years, and i had forgotten what a monster it is. how it sucks out your hope and joy and sanity and leaves you crumpled and defeated. fear is the slavery that i have been rescued from, my exodus. i have not enjoyed seeing it's ugly head in my bed again.
so, pray for me. i go to see a doctor on Thursday and have a complete physical next week.
i checked my blog stats before starting this post and saw that i have someone in India, Turkey, even the Phillipines reading my blog. and Korea! is that you Conner? could any of you leave a comment? i'm so curious....
my little girl finished grade one on tuesday. all week i've been saying to people "ask her what grade she's in!" and she'll say "two!" and we'll clap and cheer. her teacher wrote on her report card that every day she "tries to be the best person she can be". i can't express how proud i am of that, of her.
so, a rocky road of a week, culminating in an amazing fireworks display in the little town of Elbow, Saskatchewan, for Canada day. my daughter on my lap (we watched from in the car so as to not be mosquito appies) and my son, wide eyed and open-mouthed and giddy with the splendor. again, perfect.
i'm on the couch in my (mercifully) air-conditioned house, in a sleeping bag because i'm too cold. ( i know! stop yelling. i turned it down, or up, whatever). the bourne ultimatum is on the tele, and beside me is a plate of strawberries, fairtrade chocolate, a lovely buttery havarti, and some crackers. my kids are sleeping. it's about to thunderstorm. ah, perfection.
i picked my first vegetable from my garden yesterday - a single pea pod which i shared with my family (everyone gets a tiny bite!). they applauded me. i felt like i had received a shiny gold star. everyday my kids spend hours in the backyard. we were given a swing set by friends from the church, complete with slide and rings, so now we have a bonified playground out our back door. sincerely? i wonder how i could be more blessed.
today scott preached on Sabbath and the beauty of God's call to rest: to remember his miraculously taking us out of our self-slavery, to cease our striving as though we are the center of the universe, and to bless others. it was a beautiful, lung-filling word to the weariness of soul and body. i was asked last-minute to sing on the worship team, so I had that joy. man, i don't know how much i've missed leading until I get the chance to do it again. there's nothing like purposefully calling others to worship that makes me enter into worship myself. I picture myself in this giant throneroom, before a beautiful throne of light, and i sing my heart out and will the people around me to do the same. i don't know if they do - my eyes are always closed!- but i hope.
i've been dealing with a strange sickness the last week-and-a-half. it started out as pain in my lower back - like someone was waxing it and had just ripped off the wax, but that feeling lasted throughout the day. the next day the same pain was on the top of my left thigh. and the next two, my right hand and upper arm. weird eh? anyways, it's led to vertigo for a day and now some pretty sharp side pain.
sometimes in the middle of the night i will think i'm dying. I will picture my beautiful children and wish I had more time, i'll look at my husband sleeping and try to memorize his face once more. then the next day i'll be totally fine, thinking it's just a virus (which, honestly, it most likely is) and that i need to stop being such a drama queen. but those moments of fear....
i used to live with fear as a companion for many years, and i had forgotten what a monster it is. how it sucks out your hope and joy and sanity and leaves you crumpled and defeated. fear is the slavery that i have been rescued from, my exodus. i have not enjoyed seeing it's ugly head in my bed again.
so, pray for me. i go to see a doctor on Thursday and have a complete physical next week.
i checked my blog stats before starting this post and saw that i have someone in India, Turkey, even the Phillipines reading my blog. and Korea! is that you Conner? could any of you leave a comment? i'm so curious....
my little girl finished grade one on tuesday. all week i've been saying to people "ask her what grade she's in!" and she'll say "two!" and we'll clap and cheer. her teacher wrote on her report card that every day she "tries to be the best person she can be". i can't express how proud i am of that, of her.
so, a rocky road of a week, culminating in an amazing fireworks display in the little town of Elbow, Saskatchewan, for Canada day. my daughter on my lap (we watched from in the car so as to not be mosquito appies) and my son, wide eyed and open-mouthed and giddy with the splendor. again, perfect.
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