team prairie

In the bleak midwinter frosty wind made moan,

earth stood hard as iron, weather like a stone.

Christina Rosetti

 

 

I didn't blog last week because i had nothing to say, other than "i'm cold".

 

I'm not sure there's all that more to say this week, but here goes.

 

picture me here, on my couch in my living room, surrounded by paintings of flowers, a bouquet on the glass table in front of me.  i'm wrapped in a blanket, and you know why. i'm wracking my brain from something interesting to say.

 

outside i can see my lawn, but not all of it yet.  this week our bush magically reappeared after its long hiding, and we actually had to stick the "for sale" sign in the ground rather than in the snow.  we bought popsicles at costco, in great anticipation, and i've begun reaching for shoes rather than boots.  so, there are hopeful beginnings. 

 

but i'm still freakin' cold. 

 

in my favourite books by Louise Penny, there's a little Quebec town that is filled with delightful characters, and they love to talk about the weather.  i get it.  i am literally salivating at the mouth thinking about warmth.  last night i was in that wakeful dream state before finally taking the plunge into slumber, and i was imagining actually having to take off a blanket because i was too hot.  i dream of heat.  and i'm not alone, and that is why here in the prairies we talk about the weather.  it is our common enemy, or common triumph.  sometimes, it is truly capable of killing us, so we have to stick together.  we commiserate over pushing shopping carts in inches of slush.  we pass understanding looks at the gas station while shakily refueling.  we make sounds of exclamation when exiting or entering buildings.  we are team saskatchewan, and team winter is kicking our butts.

 

but at least we're a team.

 

which is why, despite what people keep saying to me, i will wholeheartedly miss the prairies.  i will miss the camaraderie and the kindness, the simplicity and pace.  the expectation that strangers will be helpful, or at the very least polite.   

 

and some day i will even miss the snow.

 

but today is not that day friends.  on saturday i was looking out the window at beautiful puffy snowflakes billowing down.  it was the perfect Christmas snowfall.  in late april.  it was at the same time visually magical and terribly depressing.  scott quickly checked the forecast and tentatively announced that "yes! this is the last snowfall".  i knew he was just saying that to keep me from completely breaking down, but it worked.  i stared out at those gorgeous flakes and thought "i may not see this again for years".  that really perked me up, and made me sad for reasons other than missing my lawn.  

so, for those of you who read my last entry where i asked for prayer for the colour green - you may want to search your lives for some unconfessed sins because those prayers have not been granted.  just a heads up.

come to think of it, i'd better do a moral inventory because my prayers are seemingly ineffective as well.  could this entire winter by my fault?  could God be using the snow as a means of his refining, the cold as a measure of my worth?  have the last 6 months been a trial so that i can leave this province a little bit easier?  does the world actually revolve around me?  has my mother been wrong all this time?!

possible.  but unlikely.

at the very least, this winter has made me even prouder to be on team prairie.  and i'll be on this team no matter where life takes me.

green is the colour

i miss green.  i live in a world of brown and white and, thankfully, some blue sky.  but green?  i have taken to holding onto the "greenery" from a bouquet of flowers for months.  who needs flowers?  well, i do actually, but what i need more is GREEN.

i was thinking about this deep desire of mine, musing on the fact that i am more than a little nuts, when a newsletter from a renowned artist (Robert Genn) on the topic of creativity appeared in my in-box.  let me quote:

when do ideas happen?....When we see green: Green surroundings, whether green-painted walls or the green outdoors, suggest new growth, rebirth, fertility and renewal--just one of the reasons why a walk in the park can be so fruitful. Feeling non-creative in the studio? Squeeze out some green.

and there it is.  confirmation.

i have been feeling very lack-lustre in the studio lately.  i thought it was just the stress of selling the house, but now i'm thinking it's living in winter for almost 6 months that has sucked the creative juices out of me.  Robert also suggests moderate drinking and daydreaming.  well...if i must.

all of you who don't live in the prairies could send up a prayer for us flat-landers.  the 21st of April will mark 6 months without seeing my lawn.  i would really love to look outdoors on that day to a world devoid of snow.  well, not a world (sorry polar bears!), but my neighbourhood would be lovely.

there were some positive developments for my little family today - my son and i went to pick up my daughter from school sans coats!  (we did wear mitts).  and we actually barbecued for dinner!!!  it was very encouraging.  there's nothing a cave girl likes more than grilled steak - except for maybe chocolate and cheese.  my naturopath has given me the green light to start introducing said items into my diet again.  i had a teaspoon of mascarpone (which is cheese that tastes like whipped cream) on my salad yesterday at lunch and yikes!  it seems i definitely have a dairy intolerance. 

which means i'm just going to have to work at it - i wouldn't want to be labelled as intolerant.

so, i'm going to stare at my turquoise pants (that's close enough to green right?) for a while, drink some cider and dream of boursin...i'm sure that will spark some creativity. 

When students were given creativity tests, those whose test-cover pages had a green background gave more creative answers than those whose pages were white, blue, red or grey." (Sue Shellenbarger, reporting in the Wall Street Journal) 

if you're interested in the Robert Genn twice-weekly newsletter, which delves into all matters relating to artistry, go here.

why

i've been struck with the question why this easter season. 

last sunday (palm sunday), while doing my hair, i had the thought that it sure would have been great to have done an installation at the church for easter.  i thought about a painting i saw while in north van, one that an artist at our new church had done for last easter - a black canvas with a lamb.  it got me imagining.  by the time i made it to church i had a rough idea.  i grabbed two artists and pitched it, and by thursday it was hung.  four canvases, one for each day of the weekend:  sacrifice for good friday, darkness for saturday, resurrection for sunday, and ascension for monday.  i was in charge of saturday and monday. 

does the easter weekend saturday have a special name?  maybe holy saturday?  i like to call it dark saturday, or black saturday - but i usually get some awkward looks from my husband.  i think it's one of the most meaningful days of the year for me.  a day of utter despair and hopelessness and fear.  i know, this makes me sound totally morbid.  i find it hard to relate to the feeding of 5000 or lazarus stumbling stinkily out of the tomb, i have no grid for walking on water or watching my hero be crucified.  but i can relate to disillusionment and frustration.  i can sink myself into the story of the disciples on this saturday, huddled and broken, totally bewildered. 

i think of Christ's last words "my God, why have you forsaken me?".  they must have rung in the minds of the twelve (well, eleven) all day.  why?  why?  why? 

sometimes i feel it is my duty as a Christian to not ask the question why.  to just accept, and trust, and stuff my disappointment and move on - but not so.  i actually worship a God who chose to fully enter the human experience, even to the point of groaning this question that plagues us all:  why?  Jesus models to me that there are times when it is appropriate to struggle with the Creator God of the universe.  that He is not immune to our despair, that He can handle our anger and incredulity. 

incredible.

what a gift.  to serve a master who understands me so deeply. who gets the breadth of the human experience.  from utter despair to incredible joy.   

these days i'm asking why we have only had two years in saskatoon, a land that i truly love.  why the upheaval for our family again.  why the stress and strain.  why do i have to leave these friends, this home, and opportunities here.  and i truly am experiencing Christ's comfort in my questions.  i'm even seeing some answers in how scott's leaving is igniting great conversation for positive change in our church.  i have hope that my future is secure.

because Jesus was not only a human.  He is and was also God.  and so, while i am directing my whys at the sky, i am comforted that He is reigning: immovable, reliable, with a desire for only justice since he has experienced profound injustice, with empathy for my frustration and confidence that He holds me. 

 

i serve a risen saviour, he's in the world today

i know that he is living, whatever men may say

i see his hand of mercy i hear his voice of cheer

and just the time i need him, he's always near.