Saturday, February 20, 2016


We just got back from a visit in Northern Ontario where we had a much enjoyed taste of winter with my brother Dave in Elliot Lake. We got to go snowshoeing through the woods and across the lake to have a winter picnic complete with campfire and toasted sandwiches with a cup of bush tea to warm us as we sat on a log in the sunshine. We did get to see a wolf but not while we were on our hike. He passed by Dave’s building where it backs on the bush at the edge of town while we watched through the living room window. We were snowshoeing on that same trail but saw no sign of him other than his prints in the snow. There is something wonderfully peaceful about the silence of the snowy wilderness on a cold, still morning. Even the swamps are beautiful in their carpet of white. It’s one of the things I miss, living in the south. It brings back a whole landscape of happy memories.

I thought about that on the long drive home. Memories are such a gift, treasures to be brought out and enjoyed over and over again. Sometimes I like to capture my favorites on paper so they can be shared.

When we passed the sign for Black Creek just north of the turn-off for Highway 17 I was reminded of another one. It’s a 50 year old memory now and back in 1993 I wrote it down. I thought I’d share it here.

“The Cabin on Turtle Lake”

Dad built the cabin in a lonely spot close to the eastern shore of Turtle Lake. To reach it we travel up Black Creek by canoe, crossing eight beaver dams in the process. The trip takes hours and we mark the distance by the number of times we clamber out of the canoe to negotiate those barriers of interwoven sticks and mud. When the count reaches eight we begin to watch for the trees to thin out and allow us our first glimpse of the lake.

Turtle Lake is long and narrow, with a rocky shoreline that in places rises up like the walls of some ancient fortress. At its eastern end, where the cabin sits in a clearing on the banks of the creek, the land slopes down more gently and the birch and poplar trees give way to tall grass and bulrushes. The swish of our paddles sounds loud in the stillness as we push through the reeds to land. The trail from the shore to the clearing in the trees is carpeted with autumn golds and the clean smell of wet leaves and distant pines is like a tonic.

The clearing is dominated by the squat shape of the cabin. Its rough walls of pine logs rise only five feet from the ground. They are topped by a peaked log roof covered with black paper that smells of tar when the sun warms it. A length of old blackened stove pipe sticks up from one corner at a jaunty angle. The low door is made of smooth unfinished boards that have weathered to a dull grey. It has hinges made of old tire rubber and sports the only window in the place. That tiny square of smudged glass and the rusty latch look almost out of place here. A squirrel chatters a welcome from the woodpile stacked neatly along one side of the building. Two makeshift sawhorses of crossed poles stand ready with an uncut log resting securely in the notch formed by their upthrust arms. The ground below is littered with sawdust and wood chips.

The dim interior of the cabin smells musty after the fresh air outside. The odours of pine gum, old wood smoke and lamp oil envelope us as we step over the threshold onto the hard packed dirt floor. There is only one room. In the corner stands the stove, made of an old oil drum propped up on bricks. Two sets of bunk beds line the side walls. Actually, they are just frames made of rough cut poles and strung with chicken wire and padded with a thick layer of canvas, but they look inviting after a long day. The only other furniture is a small sturdy table sitting opposite the stove with a box of kindling under it. There is a shelf on the wall above it that holds the oil lamp and an old, faded tin snuff box that we keep matches in. A chipped and battered enamel cup also sits there. It holds the wilted remnants of a handful of wild flowers that once provided a spot of colour to the otherwise drab room. The cup fits my hand like an old friend as I lift it from the dusty shelf and carry it out into the late afternoon sun. Leaves is what we want this time, I think to myself. Orange and yellow and gold.

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Much More Than Goodbye

I originally wrote this post for Family and Faith Matters in 2014.

This morning when my husband set off for work I saw him off at the door with a hug and a kiss and a “Have a good day”. I’ve been doing that for almost 34 years and I suppose it’s a habit now. It’s much more than a habit when I stop to think about it though. It’s a wish and a prayer and a blessing all in one and it carries the love and respect I have for this man who is my partner and soul mate right out the door with him when he goes into his day.

The concept of sending people off with a blessing is not a new one. The word goodbye actually originated with the phrase God be with ye.

I was watching the movie “Gladiator” recently and in it the Roman soldiers parted with a hand grip and the words “Strength and Honour”.  What a great way to send someone off! Honour is a word we don’t use much these days but it is another way of saying integrity or uprightness of character. I can almost feel myself standing a little taller and stepping out with a little more vigour when I hear that parting wish.

Most of us are familiar with the old Irish blessing.

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
And the rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

I suppose I might try saying that to my husband as he leaves for work in the morning but it is a bit cumbersome. I’m more likely to stick with my simple “Have a good day”. It has a power and beauty of its own when accompanied by that hug and kiss. Or maybe I’ll mix it up a bit and add an occasional “Strength and Honour”, or even the Vulcan “Live Long and Prosper”. I can just see the raised eyebrows now. At least he’d be going out the door with a smile on his face.

The next time you say goodbye make it more than just goodbye. It’s the chance to send someone off with a wish and a prayer and a blessing all in one.

Tuesday, February 16, 2016


I originally wrote this post in the fall of 2014 for Family and Faith Matters.

Photo courtesy of  Suat Eman @

The last of the raspberries are picked and safely stored in the freezer for our supply of winter smoothies. I’ve gathered all the apples and their fruity scent makes my mouth water whenever I go into the front porch where they are waiting for my attention. Over the next few days I will turn those baskets of apples into jar after jar of applesauce to sweeten our mealtimes during the cold season. Today though, the kitchen counter is covered in tomatoes and peppers that came from my husband’s flower bed vegetable garden. It’s time to make chili sauce.

I love living in a country that has seasons to mark the passing of time. Each season has a unique beauty to enjoy but there’s more to it than that. There’s a rhythm to our days when we live in a place that has seasons. At least that’s true when we are part of an agricultural community. We spend the summers growing and gathering and storing food for the winter. We spend the winters renewing our strength and planning and preparing for the next growing season.

Life has seasons too. Ecclesiastes 3 says, “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens…” No matter what particular season I am in at the moment, whether it is a time of mourning or a time of dancing, I know that it is only for a time. I believe that God uses each season in my life to prepare me for the ones to come. I can embrace whatever season I am in and know that there is a purpose to it that goes beyond whatever my current reality is. That gives me satisfaction and confidence and hope. My life is in the hands of a Master Gardener and nothing ever gets wasted in His economy.

What should I do with the time that I’m in? That’s the million dollar question. How can I make the best of this particular season while it lasts? Thankfulness is always a good place to start. Then, I think I’ll start on that chili sauce.

Chili Sauce

12 large tomatoes

4 large onions

½ bunch celery

1 ½ green peppers

Chop all finely

Add: 2 ½ c. vinegar

         3 c. sugar

         2 T. salt

         1 T. pickling spice in cloth bag

Cook 3 hours on low boil or until thickened. Seal in jars.

Monday, February 15, 2016

Don't Lose Your Balance

I originally wrote this post for Family and Faith Matters in 2014.

How are you at keeping your balance? I don’t mind admitting that mine isn’t as reliable as it once was. There are no gravity defying stunts in my repertoire. In fact, I like to keep both feet firmly planted on the ground whenever possible.

It was actually a little difficult going for walks this past winter with the sidewalks often icy and deep snow making the footing treacherous. I tend to be quite cautious because of a fall I had a few years ago that left me with a dislocated elbow and a broken finger. I still remember the flash of panic I felt in the split second when I realized I was going down.  

It wasn’t long after that when I decided to take an exercise class that was designed to improve core strength and balance. When I started out it was a little dangerous to stand anywhere near me. I had serious wobble issues and would often fling an arm out in a desperate attempt to stay upright in some of the positions we were asked to assume.                    

I did improve as time went on. It helped a tremendous amount when my instructor told me to keep my eyes focused on one spot on the floor about six feet in front of me. I learned to pay attention to where I put my feet and not to lean too far in any one direction. Those were important lessons in more ways than one.

I am a mother of three married children and I have seven grandchildren with one more on the way. Add aging parents and friends who need support to the mix and it’s easy for me to get so outward focused that I forget about my own needs in the process. I lose my balance and once that happens, the desperate fling of an arm is not enough to keep me from going down. When I crash the consequences can be both painful and far reaching.

A dear friend reminded me recently that self care is not the same as selfishness. I need to keep my balance in this busy life of mine.

That means choosing carefully where I put my feet. It’s okay to say no.

It means not leaning too far in any one direction. I need activities that will feed my soul and bring me back to centre.

Above all, it means keeping my eyes focused on the one thing that doesn’t change – God and His love for me.

Sunday, February 14, 2016

Seize the Day

I originally wrote this post for Family and Faith Matters in 2014.
I have a confession to make. I am a natural born procrastinator, unlike my good husband. He likes to know that when the sun goes down at the end of each day, his efforts have made a difference and he can check things off of the ongoing list that he carries in his head.  One day I found a list written on the white board on the side of our fridge. I was glancing through it when one item caught my eye. There, in bold red capitals, were the words, KISS YOUR WIFE. The rest of the items got erased one by one but that one stayed for as long as there was a list. It made me smile. Those three words would jump out at me whenever I went into the kitchen. They let me know that I was more important than anything else that needed doing.

I’ve learned to set goals and to reach them eventually. I may not like endless lists of jobs to be done and I suppose I will always have a tendency to put things off until tomorrow, but people are too important to be allowed to slip through the cracks.

We live in a world of todays and none of us knows how many of those we may have. We’ve lost a number of friends in recent years, some of them suddenly and without warning through accidents or heart attacks or devastating illness. As we grieve each loss, we are achingly reminded that none of us really knows what today will bring. We have our goals and our plans, our dreams for the future, and yet, today may be the only day we have.

I can’t really afford to be a procrastinator when it comes to the people in my life. There are some things that shouldn’t be postponed. Things like forgiveness, simple appreciation, random acts of kindness, and words like “I’m sorry”, “I love you” or “I am so very proud of you”.  I don’t want to let opportunities for the really important things slip by me because I am telling myself that there’s always tomorrow. That just may not be true.

We’ve all heard the term Carpe Diem or Seize the Day. It doesn’t sound like something a natural born procrastinator would live by but I think it’s a good motto. Perhaps it’s time to take some of my good intentions and put feet on them.  Are there words that need saying or people I should see? I need to make this day count because it may be all that I have.



Saturday, February 13, 2016

The Quest for Humility

I originally wrote this post for Family and Faith Matters in 2014.
     I had to laugh the day my brother spoke up in mock serious tones to give his opinion on the subject of humility. “What’s the point of being humble if you can’t boast about it?” he quipped. In our culture of independence and individualism and looking out for number one, there doesn’t seem to be much room for humility. Yet if God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble as it says in James 4:6, then genuine humility is a character quality that I definitely want to grow into. It’s a journey that I expect will last a lifetime. Genuine humility builds bridges and connects people. That’s something the world needs.

The fruit of a humble heart is pretty attractive when I think about it.

·         Recognizing my weaknesses so that I can grow and change

·         Having a teachable spirit

·         Accepting and appreciating others without judgement

·         Forgiveness freely offered and freely sought

·         The ability to offer unconditional love

·         Obedience and trust

·         The kind of inner security that doesn’t need or seek after attention or recognition

·         Placing others ahead of myself and having a desire to serve rather than be served

·         Gentleness and kindness and the ability to really listen to people

True humility is not born out of a sense of inferiority or weakness. It comes out of knowing yourself to be loved absolutely, just as you are. That is a place of strength and total security when you know that the One who loves you is God Himself.

Perhaps that’s what I need to come back to when I sometimes catch myself talking too much and looking for attention, or feeling resentful of critical feedback, or passing judgement on my neighbours. God is quick to forgive and give us a fresh start whenever we acknowledge that we’ve fallen short. I love that about Him. My fresh starts always begin by asking God for a deeper revelation of His love for me. There’s no better place to begin if I want to practice humility.

Philippians 2:1-4 Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. (NIV)




Friday, February 12, 2016

What Do You Do With a Broken Heart?

I originally wrote this post for Family and Faith Matters in 2014 and I am now reposting it here.

Relationships can be painful. If you have people in your life the potential is always there for misunderstanding, rejection and even betrayal. The more you care, the greater the pain when something goes wrong. When that happens, the temptation to let your heart get hard in order to stop the hurt can be a strong one. You might decide to run away, or wear anger like a suit of armour to keep yourself safe, but life inside that particular armour isn’t any picnic, and we were never designed to live in isolation. We were created to love and be loved with all the risks that entails.

How do you keep your heart soft when your emotions are in tatters and the pain seems unbearable? I can tell you this. When I found myself in that place I did the only thing I could do. I cried out to God about it….

Lord, I don’t think I can do this. It hurts too much.

I know.

It feels as though my heart has been torn right out of my chest and thrown on the ground and stomped on.

I know that as well.

Paralysed, I stand staring at the sorry mess that was and is my heart. It lies in the dirt, all bruised and squashed and bleeding and I feel helpless.

I don’t know what to do, Lord.

The answer comes in that still, soft voice that I’ve come to recognize and love in the course of a lifetime.

You can stand there, paralysed, staring at the sorry mess that was and is your heart, or you can pick it up and give it to me.

In the silence I can feel His gentle urging. The whisper in my mind comes again, softer yet. 

Pick it up and give it to me.

I reach down slowly into the dirt and gather up what is left of my heart and hold it out to Him. As I do so, I find that my eyes are no longer focused on my pain. They are focused on Him and in that moment something changes. I am reminded of just how much He loves me. I can’t explain it, but I find the pain easing and strength returning, and I can move and live again. His love can soften a heart of stone and it comforts me and heals me.

I have decided. I will keep my heart soft and risk the pain that comes along with the joy in relationships even if it means that I might find myself in this place again, with a heart broken and bleeding in the dirt.

I know what to do now. I will pick it up and give it to Him.

Psalm 147:3 “He heals the broken hearted and binds up their wounds”

Ezekiel 36:26 “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.”


Thursday, February 11, 2016

Story Time

I originally wrote this post for Family and Faith Matters in 2014.
I grew up before cable TV. No Netflix, no Google, no i-tunes, no social media. It was a simpler time. We played more. We read books and sometimes, we read them together.

“Story Time”…I feel a little thrill of pleasure when I think of those two simple words. They conjure up all sorts of happy memories for me and even now, sharing stories is one of my favourite things to do. You’re never too old for Story Time in my opinion.

 I’ve always loved to read. I can lose myself in the pages of a good book, transported to faraway times and places with characters that come to life in my imagination. A story becomes an adventure, an experience to be treasured. How much better it is when those adventures are shared.

I can remember spending long lazy afternoons with my brother, the two of us curled up at opposite ends of the bed in the attic bedroom, taking turns reading aloud from a tattered and much loved copy of J. R. R. Tolkein’s Lord of the Rings. Later we laughed ourselves silly trying to read Bored of the Rings, Henry Beard and Douglas Kenney’s parody of the trilogy. We could scarcely get through a page without dissolving into giggles. We were teenagers at the time.  There was something special about sharing those experiences. We were forging a connection that would last a lifetime.

That was one of the reasons I so looked forward to Story Time with my own three children. It may have started with picture books and bedtime stories but it didn’t stop there. We carried on with the tradition whenever we had opportunity. We could get through whole novels on some of our camping trips, especially if the weather was bad. They were happy times. In fact, I was still reading aloud and sharing books with one of my boys right up until he left home for university. He loved to listen.

They all have their own families now and I like to picture them reading aloud to their children. As for me, I keep a collection of favourite books on hand.  I am looking forward to reading to all those grandchildren as they get older. There are some things worth hanging on to from the days when life was simpler. Story Time is one of them.