Arranging pieces...

I resolve

2012-01-06T17:22:00.000-08:00

I don't make new year's resolutions.

But this year I'm going to be intentional about some things. I resolve to make room for some more of what I love - what brings me joy, pleasure, contentment, peace - and fight against the insidious habits that take up too much room in my life. I need this.

So may 2012 bring:

more reading - I haven't read ONE SINGLE book in 2011 - I used to average about one a week.
more writing - I don't want to admit how much I love writing. But I do.
more exercise- kickboxing, stroller strides, boot camp - etc., I miss exercising. I haven't done more than take the occasional walk since we moved from Boise. This is a gaping hole in my life.
reinvestment in some lapsed friendships - I embrace the constant evolution of relationships and don't fight against change. However, there are some old friends that I simply miss, and would love to reconnect with.
less McDonalds - this is not a joke.
baby free time - Time that is just me. The adult me.
something new - take a class? start a book club? learn how to sew?
more DIY - I realize I have sold myself short. I've have some good success. I'm going to keep trying my ideas out.
on that note, less selling myself short.
less worrying.
more hoping.
more enjoying.
more grace.
more peace.

Here's to a new year. I resolve to not let it pass me by unheeded.

Merry Christmas card

2011-12-23T08:34:00.000-08:00

The Lord has come,

Let Earth receive her King!

Merry Christmas from the Johnsons! Adam is finishing his last year of Internal Medicine residency at the U of W after an eventful year spent in Boise, Idaho. Anna Grace joined us last November and is the cutest, funniest, smartest, most-loved baby we have ever had! Adam starts as Chief Resident at the Seattle Veteran's Hospital in June, and so we look forward to at least another year and a half in beautiful Seattle. It feels more like home each day.

We are grateful for you, our family and friends. Thank you for your love, support and prayers throughout this last year. It has meant so much to us. Please keep them coming!

Praying that peace, goodwill with all abide this Holy Christmas tide,

The Johnsons

Dala horses and other party details

2011-12-14T11:52:00.000-08:00

I was brainstorming about Anna's party with my friend Katie when we realized there was a slight problem with my vision. I was imagining pretty pastels, streamers, pinwheels, lemonade, Anna running around barefoot in the grass blowing bubbles with her blonde curls blowing in the wind. In other words, I was planning a summer party for a three year old. Oops. I blame Pinterest.

Once I realized that I was in fact planning an indoor December party for my not-so-blonde one year old I needed to, um, revise some of my vision.

She's only one and I'm not that ambitious so I wanted to keep it simple, yet festive and fun. We found this dala horse garland from Etsy and took it from there.

Dala horse garland


This is the best picture we have of the banner Katie made and the wall-to-wall balloons on the balcony


We made a collage in the shape of a 1 with her weekly pictures


A close-up of the collage

Chalkboard runner


Predictions/Wishes for Anna and Anna trivia

slippers


the table

Maybe one day I'll have a summer party to throw. Until then there is always Pinterest. For now I'm just grateful for Dala horses. :)

One

2011-12-13T16:31:00.000-08:00

We had a birthday party for Anna last week. One of those "who has a birthday party for their one year old with no other little kids/babies in attendance and makes all their adult friends watch their baby eat cake" parties. I think parties for one year olds are ridiculous. But I also think this one was necessary.

In our case we DID have family there. Adam's parents were in for the weekend to celebrate with us, which was very special (and helpful!). Otherwise the guest list was all friends - but they are more than that to us. They are the people who, alongside our blood relatives, have loved, cared and supported us this last year. These friends are our 'people'. The people who make this our home. These friends are our Seattle family.

So while I felt ridiculous, and a little embarrassed, having a party for my one year old daughter, I did it because I wanted to celebrate her first year of life and I did it because I wanted to include those who are part of it. Anna was spoiled with a huge pile of presents, but the real gift was our apartment filled with people who love Anna and who love us. Even enough to come to a "birthday party for a one year old where you sit around with people you don't know and watch a baby eat cake and pretend you think it's cute" party.

We are so blessed. Thank you, friends. We love you too.

All photos thanks to Neil Argyle.

Anna by the numbers

2011-11-29T10:35:00.001-08:00

In one year Anna has
lived in:
2 states
3 cities
3 apartments
visited:
2 countries
8 states
slept in:
29 rooms
been on:
11 road trips
12 planes
3 boats
2 trains
been to:
5 ski hills
2 weddings
2 Thanksgiving dinners
1 county fair
1 concert
swam in:
5 pools
2 lakes
1 wading pool
1 hotspring
gotten:
5 food allergies
2 teeth
2 haircuts
2 new cousins (3 total)
had:
6 babysitters
given:
hundreds of kisses
thousands of laughs
innumerable toothy grins, crinkly nose smiles and sly half smirks
many soul-piercing "Anna" stares
shed:
countless tears
stolen:
2 hearts

Anna Grace

2011-11-09T11:06:00.000-08:00

The name Anna shows up all over my family tree. It's timeless and beautiful, and a palindrome to boot (for Adam). I've loved the name for years and known that if I had a little girl that she would be named Anna.

When Anna was born we passed along to her the name of my mother and grandmother. In so doing we gave her more than a beautiful name - we gave her a legacy.

Our bold hope and prayer is that our Anna will inherit more from her grandmothers than her name.

Simply put, my grandmother is a saint. She is wise, filled with enduring patience, and a woman after God's own heart. I consider her presence in my life one of its greatest blessings. Her character is marked by integrity, selflessness and faith. In her nineties she is a shadow of her former self both physically and mentally, but her steely determination, steadfastness and servanthood can never be compromised and shall never, ever be forgotten.

My mother inherited her mother's name and her beautiful spirit. I can say with confidence that I know no one who matches her in both depth and readiness of compassion and tenderness of heart. She loves freely and openly and gives of herself fully to all in need. She has a generous, joyful, loving and infectious spirit. Like her mother, she is a prayer warrior and a pillar of faith. Her hospitality and generosity is the stuff of legends. She is a wonderful, beautiful woman.

Her middle name, Grace, eluded us for some time. But once it came to us we knew it was right. There is nothing more that we could wish for our daughter than for her to embody grace. To receive it, to give it and to live in it. Grace.

And so she was named Anna Grace.

Vacuum

2011-10-23T17:33:00.000-07:00

Context is everything. Knowledge is power. A little information is a dangerous thing.

I could not agree more.

Receiving news without context, without explanation or interpretation can be unsettling. It can be terrifying. It can be dangerous.

I have learned that when your mother has cancer some context or simple elaboration can save you from spiraling into despair with every bit of otherwise benign news. When your child is diagnosed with food allergies some background and instructions can move you from feeling helpless and scared to empowered and prepared. When your baby is sick and cranky a little information can magically transform a life-threatening illness into something as innocent as teething.

Lately, I feel as though I live in a vacuum. I want out.

Foreigner (Sept 11 version)

2011-09-12T09:22:00.000-07:00

I think everyone would agree that the United States is not the same country now as it was the day before September 11th, 2001. However, it is the only one I know. You see I was two weeks into my new life in the US when 9-11 happened.

Like everyone, I will never forget where I was when the attacks happened. I phoned my friend to see if she wanted to go get breakfast before chapel and I remember her saying, "we're being bombed, our country is being bombed!" I had no idea what she was talking about but rushed to join her and her roommate to watch the footage. I saw it unfold, the second plane hitting, the towers falling. These images, that day, I will never forget.

United in horror and grief with my American friends, mourning together, processing together, we were one and the same. It didn't matter that I was a Canadian and this was not my country. Tragedy and loss are universal languages. So is fear.

In the days following the attack the patriotism was palpable. Americans responded to this attack on their country - their way of life. They rallied around their love of country, raised flags and shouted USA! People came together in unprecedented ways and set aside their differences in the light of their collective grief. It was a beautiful and heartening thing to watch.

It was an interesting time to be a newcomer, a foreigner, an immigrant. I was both bonded to and separated from my American friends. The tragedy of September 11th crystalized the human bonds that transcend nationality and the patriotism that excludes.

I had just finished International Student Orientation when 9-11 happened. At the time I thought it was absurd, but I get it now.

What I watched with horror that day was an attack on the United States, not on 'my' country. I may have been in the US, but I wasn't an American. And ten years later the same holds true.

Yesterday I remembered and I mourned. September 11th was an American tragedy, just as it was a universal one. It changed everything: the country, the world, me. Foreigner though I am.

Of fleas and failure

2011-08-24T20:53:00.000-07:00

We have fleas.

Yes, fleas. As in the jumping bugs that live on cats and dogs. As in fleas that bite. As in disgusting. In our apartment. We have fleas.

A week ago I picked a flea off my baby girl. Fleas?!? In MY apartment?! Where did they come from? How did this happen? (Answer: a stray cat gained entry into our building). I couldn't sleep, I wouldn't set Anna down, I didn't know what to do. I was absolutely paralyzed. I just wanted to flee (ha) to my sisters in Vancouver, but I was terrified that somehow I would infest her house too.

Our sense of urgency combined with the exterminators unavailability caused us to tackle the fleas ourselves. We spent hours dousing our entire apartment with (completely benign and safe to humans and pets) powder, moving furniture, sweeping, vacuuming, etc. It was a tremendous amount of work and it will take a couple weeks to fully, completely, eradicate every last one. Until then I spend an hour each morning cleaning our floors since Anna spends her days crawling over every last inch of them. And although there is nary a trace of fleas, I remain paranoid - and itchy.

Somehow these little critters have managed to make me feel like a failure. I feel so dirty, so helpless, so gross. I have failed as a mother, wife and house-keeper.

I am slowly gathering my wits together.

We are not dirty people. It is not our fault. Anna is not going to contract some awful disease. I am not a bad mother. It will be OK. I am not a failure. I must accept that this time I am simply a victim.

They are just fleas. They will not hurt us. But my pride - my pride is a different story.

In her words...

2011-08-24T20:50:00.001-07:00

An update on my mom in her own words because I can't say it any better.

"Today is exactly the 6 week post-op mark for me! Tomorrow is 3 weeks since discharge. I know my INR, Warfarin dose, dates for follow-up surgeons' appointments and many more related issues by date and number. But one thing I'll never be able to quantify is the number of prayers offered on my behalf. But I can qualify it - God has done "abundantly more than I could ask or think." And - I can't thank Him - or all of you who prayed and supported me in so many wonderful ways - enough!
The surgery had the best possible outcome and now I've been recovering very well. In fact, so well that (in my words to a friend who inquired how I was): "either very well or very crazy." That referred to our decision to indulge a fond wish of mine to attend my nephew, Matt Josephson's, wedding in Atlanta, GA this weekend. We fly there Thursday then on Sunday head to Cape Cod gratefully accepting the invitation from Dean and Jill Lundgren to further recuperate at their wonderful vacation home.
The doctors may deal with tumours (via radio frequency ablation) on the remaining 40% of my liver later this fall but they have no concern regarding urgency. As they expected, I've had none of my preop symptoms recur.
In so many ways I've been encouraged and touched and taken care of. What a gift your friendship and support has been. The words thank-you don't even seem to convey as much as I wish but please accept them from me, from the bottom of my heart - which I believe is in the same place as before.

Love and blessings,
Joan

Bittersweet

2011-07-18T09:57:00.000-07:00

Our year in Boise is over. It was a great year, it was a horrible year, it marked our lives indelibly. We survived the adventure. We loved it. We are a little worse for the wear.

This last year has been turbulent and life-changing. It was lonely and painful. We moved to the most remote metropolitan area in the country where we knew no one, had a baby, and learned that my dear mom has incurable cancer.

This last year has been turbulent and life-changing. It was beautiful and joyous. We turned co-workers into friends, made sweet memories with visiting family, gave birth to our precious Anna, and fell in love with an underrated and beautiful state.

In one short year, we experienced incomparable joy, deep love, profound sadness and paralyzing grief. We moved to Boise tentative and excited. We had the whole adventure ahead of us; we were pregnant and hopeful. I look back and realize how different I was then; how carefree I was.

I am not the same person who moved to Boise a year ago. I left a lot of me behind.

But I've learned that if allowed the bad will indelibly taint the good, and this I will not allow. Nor will I cheat myself by glossing over the pain. So I grapple earnestly with all my mixed feelings, all the joy and sorrow, happiness and tears that this year brought. I can't make sense of it all, and I can't fix it. I simply strive to accept it for what it was: both bitter and sweet.

Shauna Niequist writes in her book, Bittersweet, "...is the idea that in all things there is both something broken and something beautiful, that there is a sliver of lightness on even the darkest of nights, a shadow of hope in every heartbreak, and that rejoicing is no less rich when it contains a splinter of sadness."

And to this I say, Amen.

Disoriented

2011-07-08T11:36:00.000-07:00

We're back in Seattle. Our year in Boise is behind us. We moved for the 3rd time in 2 years into our 4th apartment in 3 states in our 5 years of marriage. Whew.

I feel like we still live in Boise and that we never did. In many ways we're picking up right where we left off. At the same time, I keep thinking that I'll turn the corner and be at our old place. It's a little odd. In my head we live in some hybrid Seattle/Boise/Chicago town as evidenced by what I typed when changing our address the other day:

908 Dexter St (not our real address)
Boise, ID
60625

Yep. Disoriented.

Red Fish Lake

2011-06-20T21:20:00.000-07:00

We drove 8 hours roundtrip on Father's Day just to see some mountains.

All year we'd been planning on taking a trip up to Stanley to see the Sawtooth mountains, and we were running out of time. So, despite forecasted thundershowers, and a growing to-do list we decided around noon to make the trek.

We arrived in Stanley and realized that there wasn't all that much to do in a town of <500. We came for the views, but weren't sure where we were supposed to enjoy them from. The answer? Red Fish Lake.

It may be heaven, or perhaps it was just a dream, but I tell you this for sure: it was perfect. Words can't describe the idyllic scene, or more importantly the laid-back, heart-warming atmosphere. On paper it wasn't very different from a dozen other mountains lakes I've visited. But paper doesn't do magic justice.

Happy first Father's Day, Adam. I think it was a good one.

cancer

2011-06-07T10:54:00.000-07:00

This post is a long time coming. I've written and rewritten it in my head so many times, so many nights. I can't find the right words. There are no good words. Only the worst word: cancer.

My mom has cancer.

It's a rare, slow-moving and incurable cancer. Carcinoid. It originated in her 'mid-gut' and has since spread to her liver. The tumours make her violently ill with severe stomach cramps and vomitting. She has been to the Emergency Room a dozen times since the beginning of March. She will be having surgery to remove half her liver, a chunk of her intestines and who knows what else sometime in the next couple months. She has been told that they can never get all the cancer. She has been told that they have made more advances in treating these neuroendocrine cancers in the last three years than in the twenty before that. She has been told that she can reasonably expect 10 good years.

My mom has cancer.

We are still reeling. NOT. MY. MOM.

And we hope.

So we pray. We pray for a miracle of healing. We pray for a tremendously successful surgery. We pray for a cure. We pray for strength and peace and courage for her and for dad. We pray for many, many more years together. We pray for hope. We pray for peace. We pray for peace. We pray for peace.

My mom has cancer.

Please pray for healing.

Please pray for peace.

Where we're from

2011-03-25T14:34:00.000-07:00

We must not look Idahoian. We are constantly being asked where we are from.

"Um," pause, "um, well..." pause.

We could just say Boise, but that is a lie. We could say that we just moved from Seattle for a year. Or could simply answer that we're from Chicago. But none of that feels right.

But I doubt that this is the answer people are looking for:

"Um, well, we are in Boise for the year but I'm from Canada and Adam's from Massachusetts, we spent 8 years in Chicago and moved from Seattle last year."

I'm guessing that's an over-explanation. But each time we're asked we find ourselves at a loss for an answer.

The truth is, I don't know where I'm from anymore and I don't know where home is either. 'Home', in the truest sense is still Calgary where I grew up and where my parents still live. But I haven't lived there for 12 years now. In many ways Chicago is also 'Home'. It's where we spent our college years and early 20's. It's where most of our mutual memories, friends and family are. Seattle? Soon Seattle will be 'home' again, but it's not where we're from, and it's not quite 'Home' yet. And Boise? Well we love Boise. It's a fine city. But 'Home' it most certainly is not. It may be where we live, but it's not where we're from.

I wish we could choose a city and go with it because I doubt anyone actually cares what we answer. But we never seem to be able to pick just one place. I don't particularly relish this transient phase of life and I look forward to feeling that I have a 'Home" again someday, but this is our journey and each stop along the way shapes our lives. We're 'from' ALL those cities, and all those places are 'home'. It might not be the answer that strangers are looking for when they are making small talk on chair lifts or at the mall, but too bad, they asked.

Where are we from?

"Um, well, I'm from Canada and Adam's from Massachusetts, we lived in Chicago for 8 years, are in Boise now and will be moving back to Seattle next year."

That's where we're from. Deal.

Oh Christmas tree

2011-02-21T14:13:00.000-08:00

Adam and I are both what you could call nostalgic fools or sentimental saps. You only need to look as far as our Christmas tree to find evidence of this. If you can't be unapologetically nostalgic at Christmas, when can you?

So we adorn our tree with old school red and green bulbs like the ones we grew up with and every single ornament we have, including many that we have collected over the years as souvenirs from our travels. There is never any editing, no discretion. Everything makes the cut. Ours is never a pretty looking tree, but it is always full of meaning.

Here is some of what graced our tree this year:

From a hockey game we went to with my family 3 years ago (Flames won):

A souvenir from our first ballet, "The Nutcracker"

This one was a tag on one of Anna's presents:

Commemorating our time in Boise:

Anna's handprint:

This one of our wedding:

Jack as a kitten:

and finally, this one my mom dug out:

This year our varied ornaments, along with a improvised tree topper (at Adam's insistence) of a nativity scene his departed Grammy gave us years ago, transformed what was an otherwise perfectly beautiful tree into what you could call an eyesore. Or as we see it - our one of a kind, perfect, and properly sentimental tree. It might not be pretty, but it's beautiful to us.

Picture perfect

2011-01-18T20:17:00.000-08:00

I had time before Anna was born. The nursery was ready, Jack was trained, the freezer was stocked with meals. I had time. So I cleaned my wedding rings, whitened my teeth, got my highlights done. There were going to be pictures, you know, pictures capturing the first moment when she is born and I'm holding her and am overwhelmed with emotion and the amazingness of it all. So I was ready for those pictures.

Except it didn't happen that way.

My contractions began at 3:30 a.m. Sunday morning, we got to the hospital around 10 p.m. and she was born at 10 a.m. Monday morning after a late epidural, hours on pitosin, plenty of vomitting from pain, a failed attempt at vacuuming, a near c-section, and over 4 hours of pushing. By the time she came out I was barely conscious, and my eyes kept rolling back in my head. I vaguely remember Adam saying "it's a girl, we have our little Anna, we have our Anna." I remember something being set on my chest momentarily before being taken away again. I remember hearing her cry and being told that she was healthy. I cried tears of relief and exhaustion when Adam brought her over and showed her to me, but it wasn't until later that I felt truly ready to hold her, look at her, enjoy her.

I certainly loved her from the beginning, but the feelings that they say you're supposed to have, the immediate joy, overwhelming emotion and connection, it was delayed for me. And this is hard to admit. The physical and emotional trauma took a toll that I didn't expect. It's not that I didn't think it would be incredibly painful, but that I did expect it to be incredibly and immediately joyful.

She's 12 weeks old now and I still replay it all, over and over again. I tell myself that I must be remembering it wrong. I keep taking the pieces and playing with them, trying to create the moment that I thought I would have. I try to convince myself that it was different than it was, that it was the way everyone said it would be. I imagine it the way I think it should have been: Anna covered in goo, Adam teary and relieved, and me - exhausted yet beaming, holding my precious baby girl with my gleaming white teeth, a sparkling diamond and those perfect highlights - of course.

We don't have those pictures. It didn't happen that way for us. And so I have some work to do. Not to whitewash the memories, but to accept them. Of course I wish it was different. I wish I held her right away and never let her go. I wish I could have shared the news with my family and friends myself rather than having Adam do it. I wish I was with it enough then so that I could fully recall and cherish every moment of those first precious hours and days.

Maybe it didn't end up the way I had envisioned, but the result is just the same: a healthy, precious and perfect baby girl whom I absolutely adore. I can't imagine my life without her and can barely remember what life was like before her. I love her so much my heart hurts.

So it wasn't picture perfect, but I wouldn't change a thing.

A long ago bet...

2011-01-04T12:17:00.000-08:00

When my parents visited in October they brought along an old envelope my mom found in their desk drawer. On the outside in says in child's writing:

Bet
cannot be opened
until Sheri has
her first child

Oh boy. Never say the past can't come back to haunt you.

Dad says he remembers the bet well, and he kept the proof (typed on old printer paper with the holes on the sides - remember?):

"I really really really love babies. I have a bet with my dad for 25$ that when I have a baby I will let it sleep in my room and won't care when it wakes me up at any or many times when i'm asleep, I'l rock it to sleep, I'll think how lucky i am for bringing life to this world. I'll also never ever ask my parents to babysit at night. and that I'll never complain about my child cause I'll love it every minute of every day, of every week, of every month, of every year, forever. my dad will erad this to me when I have my first child & by then I'll have enough money to pay this bet. My dad won't have to pay me 25$, so it's a one way bet but I know that I'll win it, cause I love babies."

Sheri Hendrickson

signature

Sheri Hendrickson

I think I owe my dad $25.

Our American baby

2010-11-19T10:49:00.000-08:00

If you asked me a few years ago, the idea of having a baby in Boise, Idaho would have been not only inconceivable but laughable. In fact, it wasn't so long ago that the thought of giving birth in the United States would have been dismissed as crazy. Yet here we are.

You see, even after it became clear that we would be in the US for a few years waiting for Adam to finish Med school, etc. I held out hope that we would have moved to Canada before we would start a family. Not only is Canada my home and where we ultimately want to end up, but I really wanted to raise our kids in Canada's educational system and with their health care, not to mention other things that I value so deeply about the way of life, and thinking there.

Let me make this clear, this is not a criticism of the United States or a political statement, so please do not misinterpret it as such. We will certainly apply for dual citizenship for all our kids and no matter where they are raised, we will do our best to instill a love, respect and pride for BOTH countries.

But I'd be lying if I said it isn't hard for me to realize that this child and perhaps the rest will be born (at least they can run for President of the United States!), and raised here because my fear is that their Canadian heritage will become to them nothing more than "where mom is from." Can we really find a way, no matter where we live, to raise our kids with an ownership of both their countries of citizenship?? Can they be raised in the US and still share Canadian values and ways of thinking or vice verse?

Well of course they can. Ultimately, it's not where you are raised, it's HOW you are raised. I believe that environment and context are very influential indeed, but at the end of the day, it's up to Adam and I and certainly not our country of residence to raise our kids. Moreover, country-specific values are something that we want to rise above and not default to.

Among other things, we desire for our kids to love God, love others, be compassionate, respect all others, seek justice and righteousness, think for themselves, stand strong in their convictions and live lives with character, honesty and integrity. The great burden and responsibility of parenthood is now upon us, and we are humbled by it. It will take hard work, intentionality and most of all, God's great grace - not a specific mailing address or country.

Baby clothes and gender roles...

2010-11-07T15:20:00.000-08:00

If you are looking for some insight into where our socialization into gender roles begins, look no further than the baby clothes aisle.

Since we opted not to find out the sex of our baby we are in the unenviable position of finding 'gender neutral' clothes for newborns. This has left me less than enamoured with the offering of yellow/brown/mint green clothes, and so I have resorted to shopping for boy clothes that I'd dress a little girl in (because 'gasp' I think that girls can wear blue too). And this is where my real issue comes to light - not the lack of 'gender neutral' clothes, but what constitutes gender appropriateness.

When you walk into the clothing section of any baby store you will likely see a very clear divide. For newborns it's pale pink on one side, pale blue on the other. End of story. Then when babies are a little older, you are allowed to dress the girls in fuschia, purple and brighter shades. Boys are now permitted to wear dark blues, browns, red and oranges. Your options are expanding rapidly! But good luck trying to find an article of clothing not adorned with either a truck, football or catcher's mitt for boys, or hearts, flowers or crowns for girls. Your little son is 'daddy's little MVP' goshdarnit, and your daughter surely is a 'princess', or even better, a 'diva.' Might as well embrace it for it has been written.

There are surely clear genetic differences between the two sexes, and there is no shame in celebrating them. However, you don't have to look very far to see where certain aspects of our adopted gender roles break down and can create problems down the line. How many people struggle with self-image when they don't fit into the roles prescribed for them? How many are belittled and bullied because they don't fit in a box? I cringe everytime I hear the term 'ballsy' used to describe courage and gumption - suggesting that men have a monopoly on these characteristics. Furthermore, I am weary of the stigma that surrounds a little boy who shows interests in anything 'effeminate' (read this article http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/opinion/ct-talk-deardorff-halloween-1026-20101026,0,7874609.column for more insight).

My sister, Kristi, introduced me to an author (and friend of hers) Shauna Niequist. I'd like to share this excerpt from her book Bittersweet:

"My friends Brannon and Chris have a little girl named Emme, and before she was born, Brannon and Chris declared their house a princess-free zone. There could be pink, there could be dresses and lace and babies galore, but no tiaras, no wands, and no princes coming to rescue any little princesses.

I love this. I think maybe we should all live in a princess-free zone. I think the current cultural messaging that tells women it’s attractive to play dumb and fragile and hope that they’re saved by their beauty is incredibly destructive.

I’m not anti-feminine. I operate, in many ways, within squarely traditional gender roles. I love to cook, I hate to drive, and I’m terrible with technology of all kinds. I fit squarely within the stereotypes, and then also not, largely because I was raised by a strong leader who recognized aspects of himself in me. I wasn’t raised to play dumb, or play cute, or play princess. I learned to work hard, to develop my skills, to contribute on a team and in society, and it drives me bonkers when women depend instead on their sexuality or their fragility. I think there’s a better way."

There is a better way, indeed. For all of us. Instead of trying so hard to make a square peg fit in a round hole, let's take another look at the pigeonholes to begin with. Starting with baby clothes.

full to bursting...

2010-08-18T09:40:00.000-07:00

(This post will likely become uncharacteristically sentimental. Consider yourself warned).

It was 10 years ago this summer that Adam & I met and 10 years today that we started, well, all that brought us here. Our story actually begins even earlier when my sister sent me postcards in Sweden saying that she met the perfect boy for me working at camp in New Hampshire. He was cute, athletic, smart and musical she said... and also in high school in Boston (I was starting college in Canada). Great, thanks.

A year later we met. He with the (sort of) girlfriend and me with loads of (relationship) baggage. End of story, right? Well... not. The short version is that by the end of the summer we both realized that there was something there that was worth pursuing even though we didn't know exactly what that was. Although being in a relationship with someone who lived across the continent was both highly inconvenient and probably short-sighted we both knew that we had no choice. We had to see what came of this. So glad we did.

Much of the time I marvel at how lucky I am. There is no one in the world with a bigger, purer or more tender heart than Adam. To be the recipient of his love and grace on a daily basis makes me no less than the luckiest girl on earth. To have someone who loves me so deeply, and so unconditionally is such a tremendous gift. One that I pray I will never take for granted.

To so greatly admire the character and integrity of someone you share your life with is a beautiful thing. And to so enjoy every second you spend together (most of it laughing) is yet another. I'm sad to let go of all this time together that's just us, but I simply cannot wait to see Adam as a dad. What kid should be so lucky??

On our five year (dating) anniversary, Adam wrote me a card that said, 'thanks for the best five years of my life." Well, thank YOU for the best ten.

Indeed, my heart is full to bursting.

We live in Idaho... (typing it might make it feel real)

2010-07-03T10:52:00.001-07:00

We arrived in Boise late Sunday night and crashed at a fellow resident's house before moving in Monday morning. Since then most of our time has been spent unpacking and trying to fit a lot of stuff into a small space. Adam started work Thursday and is back full swing now. Exploring has been limited thus far, but here are some of my initial observations of our new 'home'.

- the Capitol building is gorgeous.
- the weather is HOT. Apparently high 90's all summer with 2 weeks averaging at 105 is NORMAL. The day we unloaded the truck it was 98. awesome.
- parking is free downtown for the first twenty minutes and doesn't seem to be too hard to come by.
- there is no traffic - at least by my standards.
- I didn't know I was downtown the first time I was downtown.
- It is not a stressful place to live.
- People are friendly - really, really friendly. Also, people seem to really love pregnant women.
- When we asked about crime where we live the manager cited that occasionally at the bars downtown fights can break out between unruly drunken men.
- We shouldn't let Jack outside (not that we would) because there are foxes and other wildlife that live on the hillside that our patio backs onto, not to mention that we drove by the International Birds of Prey park on the way in to town.
- The property manager apologized for some very distant hammering noises when we moved in and made sure to let us know that the disturbance was both temporary and uncommon, phew!
- Strip malls are the great city equalizer. I ventured to the shopping district yesterday and felt like I could have been in any suburb of any city in the US (the difference being of course the quality of stores present).
- I added to my list of places I'm homesick for. Currently I'm missing Seattle, Calgary, Chicago and New England (West Island, Cape Cod and Pilgrim Pines!!!)

Back to unpacking! Or at least pretending to do something while I wait for Adam to get home. :)

courage

2010-06-16T12:09:00.000-07:00

I'm pregnant. I'm going to be a mother. Adam and I are going to be parents, and our lives are going to change drastically in ways we can only begin to imagine. This is at once the single most exciting, yet terrifying time of our lives.

Along with intense joy and anticipation there can be much fear during pregnancy. So much could happen to the baby, to you. And I know that the worrying really begins once the baby arrives, and never, ever ends. This alone could be enough to send this selfish girl into a panic attack. I really, really love and cherish our lives right now, and our marriage. We're in such a good place. Changing it drastically scares me just as much as it excites me. Then there's the realization that as parents we are responsible for caring for and raising a human life. Is anyone really up to this task?

I discovered this quote while babysitting at a catholic retreat center. These words resonated and calmed me, especially during those early days while we were still processing the news. In the truth of these words I find the courage that I need every day for pregnancy, parenthood and simply for life. To choose to dwell in joy and hope and not to succumb to fear.

"Do not fear what may happen tomorrow. The same loving Father who cares for you today will care for you tomorrow and everyday. Either he will shield you from suffering or He will give you unfailing strength to bear it. Be at peace then and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginings."

St. Francis de Sales

Europe - a year later

2010-05-31T20:05:00.000-07:00

A year ago today Adam and I were in Prague, nearing the end of our Europe trip. We had about three weeks between my graduation and his and we decided that we would take advantage of the brief window of time while we had it. And that we did.

The best piece of advice I could give anyone planning a trip like ours is to not take anyone's advice. We didn't! We packed a lot into our trip, despite much advising otherwise, and wouldn't change a thing. We visited 9 cities in 8 countries in 20 days. We backpacked and traveled via train, stayed in hostels, hotels and with friends, walked pretty much everywhere and took public transit where we couldn't, and pretty much just did what worked for us.

Our trip started in London with a brief 2 night, day and a half stay. We were fortunate enough to stay with and reconnect with a high school friend and her fiance and also meet up with an old CBC classmate of mine. Those familiar faces really helped us start our trip off right... and we LOVED London. Of course the sites were amazing, but it was the vibe of the city that we loved the most. I only wish that we had more time there and that the weather had been a little nicer.

Next we were off to Paris via the Eurostar. Our day got off to a rough start as we decided to walk the 5 or so miles from the train station to our hostel with our backpacks rather than take the Metra. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but once we got to our hostel we were exhausted, and had MUCH more walking ahead of us. But walking everywhere in Paris was one of the best decisions we made as we saw so much of local life there that we would have missed otherwise. We ate a lot of crepes, saw a lot of art, endured a lot of cold, stayed in separate rooms in our hostel and loved every minute. I mean, it was Paris - it's magical.

Switzerland came next. We stayed in Interlachen and spent our one short day up in the Alps in Gimmelwald and Murren. It was a perfect day, and by that I mean that it was PERFECT. We wandered and walked and plain old marveled at the beauty of the Alps. I've been to many beautiful places but this was something else. As we were roaming I truly expected to see Heidi roaming the hills with her goats while singing the Sound of Music. We couldn't have loved Switzerland more.

Off to Italy! We started in Cinque Terre, and this was the 'vacation' part of our trip. We spent three whole days and nights in Rio Maggiore, laid by the beach, hiked the path through the 5 villages, had the best gelato ever, sat on the rocks with our wine and pizza and had the best. time. ever. From there to Rome, which surpassed all my expectations! From the Colosseum to Vatican City, night walks through downtown, the Roman Forum, super hot weather and the best food ever, we fell in love with the city, as I imagine anyone would. Our last Italy stop was Venice and it was all that it's sold to be. We spent our time there getting lost walking around and drinking (wine) our way from one cafe to the next all night. We heard that getting lost was the best way to experience Venice and I would have to agree!

We overnighted to Vienna, which was a stop that we fit in last minute. We had one short day there but it was more than enough time to get a taste for that amazing city. The culture pervaded everything and I felt that outside of London it would be the city I could most see myself living in. Plus, the architecture was outstanding.

Prague was our last real stop, and one that we had really been looking forward to. We were lucky enough to stay with missionary friends of my sister and at this point of our trip it was so nice to be in a home again. Prague was like a fairy tale. The Prague castle, Old Town Square, the Charles Bridge, the Meteorological clock, the eastern European influence and communist background combined to make it such a fascinating city. And, oh so beautiful! Finding the John Lennon wall, joining the national marble tournament and taking a sunset boat tour made for a perfect end to our time there.

We flew out of Munich and only had one short evening to enjoy it. We wanted to get to Germany and Adam was very excited about the beer gardens and Hoffbrau Haus, but Munich offered so much more than that. It was a nice bonus to enjoy our last stop so much.

I would have packed some warmer clothes, brought a pedometer and a hat, but otherwise wouldn't have changed one thing about our trip. It was that great.

I was nowhere near ready to head home, and don't think I ever would have been. We were somehow able to leave the chaos of our lives behind and truly live in every moment - together - and in many ways that was the very best part. It was so much more than what we saw, what we did and what we experienced. It's hard to believe it was a year ago today that we were getting ready to return to Chicago, and so much has changed since then. I am incredibly grateful that we committed to making that trip happen and to take that pause from our lives while we had the chance. Our lives are so different now that the whole thing feels like a dream, but the very, very best kind.

We came to leave: Covenant Bible College

2010-05-03T20:52:00.000-07:00

I was reminded yesterday that this weekend marked the 3 year anniversary of Covenant Bible College's final Commencement weekend. Any thought of CBC is decidedly bittersweet, and the anniversary of their closing especially so.

It's hard to describe the impact that CBC had on my family, and the role that it played in my life. In many ways, CBC was home away from home.

As a third generation CBCer I was so excited for my very own year there - I counted down from 7 years. Eventually my time came. And for now, that experience evades words. Another post, perhaps. Suffice it to say that I know with all certainty that I would not be the person I am today without that year, those studies, those friends. I am eternally grateful.

When CBC closed its doors, I was not only an alumna, but an employee. As a recruiter I had to call students I'd helped admit and tell them the news. Their plans for next year had changed. There would be no CBC for them to attend. My tenure there was short, rewarding and painful, but I consider it a privilege to have been part of the CBC family through that tumultuous time.

I wasn't able to be in Strathmore for that final Commencement, and I am still immeasurably sad to think that there will never be another one. No more final Vespers in the gym, choir performances, Christmas concerts, Xtreme Impacts, Kids Kollege, retreats, or Spiritual Formation Group. No more late night runs to Coffee Time, hockey games, Sno Jos, laughs, talks, cries. No more CBC. But there was one, and it blessed my life.

If I'm honest, it's still hard. I don't know if that will ever change. But if I learned one thing at CBC it is this: God's faithfulness is bigger and greater than I can comprehend. CBC's time may have ended, but its legacy lives on. And it was never really about CBC itself.

I am reminded of the term Sankofa: to look backward to move forward. Looking back at God's faithfulness over the ages and through CBCs tenure, we are able to anticipate and trust in the certainty of his faithfulness going forward. As students, we were constantly reminded that we came to CBC to leave. I thank God for that.

Basic Health

2010-04-16T16:54:00.000-07:00

I was hired to do data entry for two and a half weeks back in December. I jumped at the chance, simply happy to be working, to make a paycheck and get up and out of the house every day. I loved every minute of those short weeks, bored as I was, and two and a half weeks turned into three months of the best job I have ever had.

I miss it.

I worked for the Public Policy department of Community Health Plan, specifically with their grassroots advocacy program, Save Health Care in Washington (savehealthcareinwa.org). The data entry I did functioned to process the messages that over 25,000 Washingtonians sent to their legislators regarding the state of the safety net health care programs that cover over 100,000 people who otherwise have no health care. Because of this, the first few weeks that I spent doing mindless data entry were so much more. I cared deeply about what I was doing, and realized the impact it had. When they hired me on for the rest of the legislative session my responsibilities expanded greatly - mostly involving writing and communication work. I helped film, edit and produce a video that told patient stories to legislators and lobbyists. I wrote letters to the editor on behalf of my Assistant Vice President. I created communication plans, talking points, powerpoints etc. I also stepped far out of my comfort zone by being the 'cell phone person'. During critical points of the session, I went to various community health care clinics throughout the state, met patients, heard their stories and encouraged them to phone their legislators right then and there. I was that girl, cell phone in hand, asking people to call.

Before I started the cell phone program I was intimidated. But from the moment I approached the first patient my anxiety disappeared. I wasn't asking for money, nor was I coercing them to do something they didn't want to. What I was doing was educating and empowering these people. I would explain to them the proposed budget cuts, answer their questions and inform them that contacting their legislators actually made a difference. I would encourage them to call - about anything. It may sound silly and obvious, but to many of these people the idea that they have a voice is new to them. This is the root of democracy, and democracy is a beautiful thing. So while many days were largely discouraging in numbers, I loved what I was doing.

My team and I spent two days down at the Capitol in Olympia, coordinating meetings between clinic managers, patients and their legislators. We also attended rallies, town hall meetings and the like. All this to say, this job was right up my alley.

But alas, nothing lasts forever. Once the legislative session wrapped up, so did my time at CHP. I will still do the occasional marketing event for them, but I'm no longer heading downtown every day. I miss working, I miss the office, my coworkers, the direct-trade and organic coffee, the bus ride and walk downtown, the lunch breaks, coming home after a long day at work, the intellectual stimulation and the paycheck. But most of all, I missed spending each day doing something I loved and knowing that I was making a difference.

When the regular session ended, both the house and the senate had restored most of the funding to Basic Health (health care coverage for the working poor - those who don't have employer provided care and who can't afford it otherwise), GA-U (temporary assistance to those deemed unemployable due to mental health and disability), Medicaid optional services (dental and other), maternity support services, interpreter services and health care for kids. They headed into special session to iron out the details of the budget and the revenue package. Yesterday I learned that it is finalized. These important services have been maintained at current levels (took huge hits last year) preserving these basic health services for over 100,000 Washingtonians.

There are still roughly 900,000 people in this state who have no health insurance, and much remains to be done. As for me, I'm just grateful. Grateful for the job, the paycheck, for the expanded horizons. How great to have a job that merged my passion for politics and advocacy. It's too bold to suggest that I have a clear view of my future career path, but perhaps not too bold to say that I'm starting to dream.

With glowing hearts...

2010-03-08T14:12:00.000-08:00

I'm a proud Canadian.

8 days ago I watched Canada's men's hockey team win the gold medal against the US on home ice. I watched with my hands over my eyes, pacing the room, and developing ulcers, but I watched. I wasn't sure I was going to. We were on vacation in northern California that week and were heading to wine country that day. After the heartbreak I endured a week before (Canada lost to the US in the round robin) and the vivid memories of the stress I felt watching the same game 8 years before in Salt Lake (Canada won gold then also), I felt like it might be in the best interest of my mental health to avoid the game and to drink some wine. At least that was the plan. I woke up with a nervous stomach, and the nerves only escalated through our drive, my frantic search for radio coverage of the game and our eventual arrival at Neil & Sharol's hotel room in Sonoma during the first intermission. Not watch the game? Who was I kidding?

I couldn't miss that game. As Neil put it, it was a life event. I'm sure you're rolling your eyes at the hyperbole, but I assure you I exaggerate not. It wasn't just a hockey game, and it wasn't just that our collective Canadian pride was on the line, it was that and more. It was the culmination of a two week celebration of my country, my home that I miss so much.

After Canada's loss to the US in the round robin, I was inconsolable. No, it wasn't anger at the taunting text messages I received (I know they were all sent in love), and it wasn't just the loss. I was having a hard time putting my finger on the source when Adam (oh how I love him) did it for me. I hated that I wasn't in Canada to watch that game. I wanted to be in Vancouver still, surrounded by fans as fervent (or more so) than I. I was missing home, and it all came crashing down on me then.

Our Olympic experience was amazing. We spent 6 days and nights total in Vancouver. We watched the Opening Ceremonies (which I LOVED) with some of my closest family and friends. We saw the fireworks outside Kara & Tyler's front door as we were watching the coverage on TV. We went to Robson Square, saw the torch, the Olympic rings, and the general pandemonium that was Vancouver. We went to a men's preliminary curling match - and were overwhelmed by the flags, the spirit, the curling savvy and the NOISE of the fans. We are the proud owners of the autographs of the gold medal winning men's curling team (thanks to Adam). We went to hockey games and cheered at the top of our lungs, even though we didn't care who won. We sensed the excitement and were part of it. The 'olympic spirit' isn't just a cliche and it was palpable in Vancouver.

Undoubtedly my highlight was the VIP room of Molson Canadian Hockey House. As the lucky recipients of unused VIP passes, Kara, Tyler, Carter, Adam & I spent the night enjoying free drinks, food, and one of the poshest lounges I have ever been to at one of the most coveted venues in Vancouver. The night before all of team Canada plus Gretzky were in the VIP lounge post win, and although they weren't expected that night, the thought alone was enough to make me permanently giddy. They didn't show up, but Lanny McDonald did (Calgary Flames Stanley cup winning captain in 89). Meeting him was... maybe the highlight of my life?

Point is, we had the best time. We were able to see and do so many cool things. But for me it was all about being in Canada, with Canadians, watching Canadian TV coverage and unashamedly reveling in all things Canadian.

Please note, I'm not pretending that my experience living in the states is in any way hard, or that I experience ANY of the tremendous hardships that most other immigrants do. But what I am saying is this, at the end of the day I am still Canadian. I love my country, and I miss it.

For me, the Olympics was two weeks of celebrating Canada and bursting with pride. We're back in the States now and will happily live here for the foreseeable future, at least the next few years. This is Adam's home, and it's mine for now - and you know what, I love this country too.

But when Crosby scored the game winning goal and I stood singing "Oh Canada" with my aunt and uncle there was nothing but pure unadulterated joy (and yes plenty of pride) even from afar. Sure, it was just a hockey game, but it was so much more. It was a celebration for Canada, of Canada, in Canada. With glowing hearts, indeed.

everything in between

2010-01-21T12:11:00.000-08:00

It's been quite some time since my last blog entry. I've been meaning to post, but have been busy and largely uninspired. While I don't usually use this blog to update people on our specific activities, so many notable things have happened since my last post that I feel the need to share them with you all.

We had a wonderful but all too brief trip to Chicago over Thanksgiving. There was time for celebrating and relaxing with family over the holiday and then a little time for fun and merriment with friends in the city (for me, poor Adam had to head back). It was great to be in Chicago and thankfully my previously mentioned homesickness had long since passed. :)
Both my sisters and nephew came for a weekend visit shortly after my return, and as always we had a great time being together and shopping and eating our way around Seattle.
My parents made their inaugural visit to our new place in Seattle. They just couldn't abide the thought that we would be all alone on Christmas. They came to our rescue and it was such a blessing to have them with us: to show them our lives here, to celebrate Christmas together, to enjoy mom's delicious Christmas dinners AND baking, and to simply enjoy each other's company in a relaxed setting.
Because I'm perpetually homesick for Calgary I returned with mom and dad for a week. I just loved spending time at home and in the house I grew up in. It's always so good for my soul to be there. I got to spend time with family, friends, enjoy some Calgary shopping and, of course, a Flames game. I was also really happy to see some snow and have some more seasonal weather. While I love the mild climate here, it just didn't feel quite as Christmas-y wandering around Seattle with no coat on the 25th of December.
It's been less than three weeks since I returned to Seattle and it feels like forever - in a good way. I love this city, and I love our life here. I was very happy to return to it. Since then, I turned 28 years old, celebrated birthdays and engagements with friends and have spent entire weekends with Adam (the first in a really long time). It's been a really fun three weeks!
This last weekend my amazing friend, Sarah Zimmerman, hopped on a plane last minute and came to visit. I love every minute I get to spend with her and it was so much fun showing her Seattle for the first time and a good excuse to check some new things off our list. Highlights include a trip to Bainbridge, some great food, a hilarious karaoke bar and an award winning performance by Adam, and some beautiful weather and sights. My goal is to get everyone I love to move to Seattle and I think I made some progress with Sarah.
We're heading out of town this weekend (for my birthday) and anxiously anticipating our three weeks of vacation in February and March. We'll be in Vancouver for a few days during the Olympics, heading down to Northern California to visit Angie, Neil & Sharol and see some sights, and meeting up with friends in Vegas. So much to look forward to, and so much planning to do!

So... that's the update. I have, of course, left out a very big piece of my life lately, but that's because it deserves it's own blog entry. I got a temp job in December and have been lucky enough to extend my time working here at Community Health Plan of Washington. In short - I absolutely love this job and am so grateful that it came my way. More to come on my adventures working in Public Policy/Advocacy soon. :)

gratitude

2009-11-25T18:05:00.001-08:00

I'm homesick. Homesick for Chicago. It hit me Sunday after church. While I love our church here, it is not Ravenswood, and it's still not home. While I've met many wonderful people, there are still so many people who I don't know and coffee hour can be intimidating. I had an hour to kill between church and picking Adam up from work and I honestly did not know what to do with myself. I couldn't help but think that in Chicago we lived but two short blocks from church. That thought led me down the rabbit trail to everything I miss about Chicago - and I mean EVERYTHING. I couldn't stop thinking about it. I wished I was in Chicago walking home from church (after a coffee hour spent talking to any number of wonderful people) down the street to our apartment, or to CVS where we often picked up milk after church, or down to the Square for some window shopping. I thought of the cold and snow and slush and could remember where the puddles would form on that walk and could picture every detail. I MISSED the terrible weather, I just missed everything.

Another factor to this homesick spell was spending some time downtown with Adam. I LOVE Seattle's downtown and have spent a lot of time there since we moved. However, being there with Adam, in the evening, around the holidays sucked. It just wasn't Chicago. We didn't get downtown much, but date nights strolling down Michigan avenue or going to Millennium Park never disappointed. It's magical there, especially around the holidays. Seattle's downtown is great for what it is, but it's not Chicago and never will be.

I think it's the familiar that I miss. I miss routine and comfort and familiarity. Maybe we've been here long enough that some of the novelty has worn off. We're new, but we're not. Maybe it's the holidays that make me long for Chicago. Maybe it's that I'm sick of the dreary rain. Maybe it's that I miss having more than a handful of friends - I miss ALL my amazing friends. So, so, so much. I wish each and everyone one of you lived here. I wish we could get together for dinner, just to hang out, watch football or run into each other at a NPU event. I miss having people I know everywhere. It's not just one thing, it's everything.

My point is... I'm homesick, and it sucks. We're heading for Chicago tomorrow morning, and while I'm so excited to be with family and to be in the city, I'm nervous to be in the place that I miss so dearly. (Clarification - this is a temporary funk - I'm already much LESS homesick than I was Sunday and have no doubt it will pass soon. Maybe being in Chicago will help me get over it! ;) But as I was thinking about how homesick I was I couldn't help but note that I'm also incredibly blessed. Blessed that I DO love it here, blessed that the move hasn't been terrible and that homesickness hasn't hit until now. I'm blessed in countless ways, and in the spirit of Thanksgiving I've decided to focus on that.

I am grateful for: (in NO particular order and off the top of my head)
Adam (I have no words to describe how grateful I am for him)
our cat, Jack and his health (knock on wood)
my family - immediate, in-law and extended
the friends who are as close as family
all my friends, acquaintances, buddies and past co-workers - each blesses me in their own way
having a warm, safe place to live
as broke as we are, we really aren't, we have SO much
beauty - Seattle, Lake Union, Mt. Rainier
the health of my family - I am SO grateful for our health
a new church that can't replace Ravenswood, but doesn't need to
the chance and ability to visit Chicago and see old friends
our trip to Europe this last spring
GRACE
memories
my nephew :)
the constancy and love of my 'little family'
living 2 hours away from Canada - my homeland
the temp job I just got (better than nothing)
small mercies
people that love me and pray for me
my grandparents
the fact that life goes on
faithfulness
good books
good music
good wine
Pastors that care about us and take care of us
that my friends are still my friends even though so many miles separate us
the fact that we still haven't turned our heat on at the end of November
new friends
assurance that while EVERYTHING changes, God does not

the list goes on... and on...

This is one of my favorite songs by Nichole Nordeman - Gratitude
The words never fail to ground, humble and encourage me. They take on new meaning with every situation and every season of life and seem especially appropriate to me this Thanksgiving.

Send some rain, would You send some rain?
'Cause the earth is dry and needs to drink again
And the sun is high and we are sinking in the shade
Would You send a cloud, thunder long and loud?
Let the sky grow black and send some mercy down
Surely You can see that we are thirsty and afraid
But maybe not, not today
Maybe You'll provide in other ways
And if that's the case . . .

We'll give thanks to You
With gratitude
For lessons learned in how to thirst for You
How to bless the very sun that warms our face
If You never send us rain

Daily bread, give us daily bread
Bless our bodies, keep our children fed
Fill our cups, then fill them up again tonight
Wrap us up and warm us through
Tucked away beneath our sturdy roofs
Let us slumber safe from danger's view this time
Or maybe not, not today
Maybe You'll provide in other ways
And if that's the case . . .

We'll give thanks to You
With gratitude
A lesson learned to hunger after You
That a starry sky offers a better view if no roof is overhead And if we never taste that bread

Oh, the differences that often are between
What we want and what we really need

So grant us peace, Jesus, grant us peace
Move our hearts to hear a single beat
Between alibis and enemies tonight
Or maybe not, not today
Peace might be another world away
And if that's the case . . .

We'll give thanks to You
With gratitude
For lessons learned in how to trust in You
That we are blessed beyond what we could ever dream
In abundance or in need
And if You never grant us peace

But Jesus, would You please . . .

'just a cat'

2009-11-06T10:56:00.000-08:00

I feel compelled to blog about what's been going on with Jack since most everyone that might read my blog has probably been well informed via facebook of the ordeal. However, I really just don't know what to say. It's been a loooong two weeks. He seems to be doing well overall, but there is still cause for concern and will be for the next two weeks (and to some degree forever after that).

Facing the thought of losing him has been tremendously difficult and I have realized to just what extent his constant companionship and love have helped me through this move and transition. It would be very lonely here without him. The ups and downs of his recovery (I think there have been FIVE times we've been positive that we'd have to put him down) have taken quite a toll on me. There have been many times in my life when I have underestimated my strength and been surprised by it, but this time I think I have overestimated it and that in itself has been a shock to my system. I am weak, I need help, I need prayer. I am doing my best to embrace this vulnerability and to simply ask for the help and intervention that I need. It's terribly humbling, but a little hit to my pride is a small price to pay at this point. Perhaps there is strength in admitting weakness. While the transition to this new life has been largely positive, losing Jack could emphasize a lot of the hard parts and I would greatly miss the comfort and consistency he provides.

So I pray. I pray that he will continue to heal, that this whole process and all these bills will not simply end in tragedy, but in recovery. I pray that he continues to pee, that he eats, and that soon he will decide to pooh again. I know, right? What absurd concerns. I pray that I will continue to draw near to God in this time and that I will find his peace no matter what happens and that his strength will be sufficient. I pray for strength to continue taking care of Jack even though I just. want. to. be. done. with it all. I hate this weakness, I hate the feebleness that this has brought out, but I ask for the courage to not deny it and seek the help I need when I need it. I pray for Adam as he struggles to take care of Jack and me at home while burdened with his highly stressful job that is starting to burn him out. As always, I'm grateful for the support, love and prayers of my friends and family. I have been so blessed through so many in this time. And I appreciate those who are graceful enough to simply accept how hard this is for us even if Jack is 'just a cat.' When all is said and done, he's OUR cat, he brings us a lot of love and joy and I pray that he sticks around for a lot longer.

P.S. This whole ordeal has also increased my need for any sort of job. It would be good to get out more, and a paycheck would be - well a big help. :)

Dwell in possibility...

2009-10-05T15:16:00.000-07:00

You know the poem, right? It's certainly not a new sentiment, but it is taking on new meaning to me these days. It is a freeing and exciting truth, the utter possibilities that my current situation brings when I am capable to believe it. I am free to do most anything, really. I can wait, and pray and hope and explore possibilities and new horizons may be opened. I am not restricted by an employer, a paycheck, a routine or many expectations. My future may be very different from anything I have yet imagined or hoped. I may receive the opportunity to pursue a passion or dream that I never thought I would, or never knew I had. Indeed there is freedom in this possibility. But here is the flip side. Possibility, the very essence of it, is incredibly unnerving. With this lack of structure and limitations comes, well, lack of structure and a large does of uncertainty. Realizing that the possibilities are endless means that well, they are in fact, endless. The exhilaration of such possibility is counter-balanced by its very vastness and lack of focus. And this lack of focus, I feel, has always been my problem, just as certainly as a lack of passion has never been. So I continue to seek focus, toe the line, find the balance and at least attempt to follow my heart. How blessed I am to be supported and encouraged in this by those who love me most. To those of you who kindly remind me that I have nothing to prove - I am grateful.

On this same note there are some lyrics that play on perpetual repeat in my head lately and the relevance is not lost on me. Adam & I share a love for the song "I Never Lost my Praise" on a Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir cd. While the entire song is incredibly powerful, it is these words that I am praying over... "I've lost some battles by walking in fear." Certainly food for thought.

zero to sixty... in reverse

2009-09-02T12:43:00.000-07:00

I have a whole list of things that I want to blog about: the Josephson family reunion, my time home in Calgary, short trip to Chicago for Grammy's memorial, a LONG overdue Europe post, etc. And it's certainly not a lack of time that is keeping me from writing them. But it seems that sometimes it's harder for me to get things done when I have nothing but time.

The other night I had a dream that I was on vacation somewhere and forgot that I had a couple papers due. The dream was filled with stress and that frantic feeling - scrambling to get something done last minute. When I woke up, it took me a minute to realize it was just a dream. So relieved... sort of.

Friends and family are quick to remind that I deserve this break, that my life this spring was so hectic, that it takes some time to decompress. They are right, and I appreciate the reminder. Life WAS hectic. Overly so. I who cherish the downtime, the nights to myself, I should relish this time. I was running myself ragged, pushing too hard, going a million miles an hour. I'm not the type to enjoy being over-scheduled and hyper busy. I love rest.

But I have a confession. I'm bored. Europe was phenomenal. It was the breath of fresh air that we wanted and needed. We lived for the moment each moment, loved every second of that great adventure. It was rejuvenating and relaxing. We came back to the chaos of packing up our lives and starting new ones. Moving here was a whirlwind and it's taken some time to gather up the pieces of our lives and to decompress - take a deep breath.

I've had the entire summer off to play. And play I have! As I've mentioned it's been an incredible and fulfilling summer, and now it's coming to an end. My plans for the year take shape and fall apart - sometimes multiple times a day. Some days I'm full of optimism and enthusiasm and others I'm simply restless,unfulfilled. I want a job, I crave structure. I'm starting to miss school. I miss working, thinking, doing.

So my prayer is this: that I will act on ambition on the days that I have it, and that I won't beat myself up when I don't. Beyond that, I pray that I live each day in His joy and peace. Contentment doesn't always come easy, but it has the power to transform and transcend these worries. I need to figure out some of these temporal pieces of my life, but I also need to remember that they are just that.

Quelle belle ete

2009-07-21T09:49:00.000-07:00

I always said that there is nothing like a Chicago summer, or that summers in Chicago almost make the winters bearable. And then I thought that maybe it's simply that summer is the best time in ANY city. But now I know the truth. There is NOTHING like a Seattle summer.

Since the week after we first arrived in Seattle almost each day has been perfect. Hot, sunny, blue skies. Mountain backdrops, shimmering lakes and trees everywhere you look. We spent this Sunday afternoon laying on the grass at South Lake Union Park watching the sea planes land and sailboats go by. I've spent plenty of time up on our rooftop deck soaking up the sun, but this time we decided to venture down to that little patch of green. There aren't a ton of parks in Seattle, given that land is at such a premium - but the waterfront more than makes up for it. Here we got the best of both worlds. That grass felt like a little piece of heaven between our toes. That same evening was spent on our rooftop deck, grilling, drinking wine and talking all night with my cousin Ben and wife Jen. We have had any number of these perfect days in Seattle.

We've been truly blessed by our friends and family who have come visit us in the short time that we have been here. It's been such a gift to have people to share my days with and to explore Seattle with. It's also a nice reminder that we're not alone here. My sisters have visited, friends have driven down from Vancouver just for the day, and those who have passed through town have made a point of seeing us. It's been wonderful. We settle in more each day, meet more people and are starting to feel connected at church. It's still too early to tell what the year will hold for us, and so much remains up in the air. I'm trying to embrace this uncertainty. So we are grateful, we are at peace, and we are loving summertime in Seattle. Come visit.

Grammy

2009-07-06T14:09:00.000-07:00

Adam's dear grammy, Virginia (Ginny) Johnson, passed away this week. It didn't take long for her to find her way into my heart, and over the nine years that I knew her she became my grammy too. She had such a calming and peaceful demeanor, and you couldn't help but feel loved and comforted by her presence. She was never one to talk much of herself, but when she spoke you always wanted to listen. Without fail when we'd ask how she was doing she'd respond, "I can't complain." Never a truer remark was made as I believe that she was in fact incapable of complaining. It was a classmate of Adam's who cared for her in her last few days and even he noted her selfless disposition and kind heart. Grammy was a famous and gracious hostess, never happier than when she was able to take care of those she loved. When someone that knew her discovered my good luck at having married into her family, I would always be treated to raving accolades of her cooking and stories of her legendary hospitality. I was always humbled and honoured to hear the words that were spoken of Ernie & Ginny Johnson. I never knew Grampy, but I was blessed with nine years with Grammy. There is no way for me to know how many lives she touched throughout her 85 years. I only know this, she touched mine. She is missed.

I love you, Grammy.

although I've traveled far...

2009-06-26T10:08:00.000-07:00

It's impossible for me to believe that a month ago we were having the time of our life in Europe, and that only two weeks ago we were finishing packing up our beloved apartment and getting ready to bid adieu to so many of our friends and family in Chicago. I have little concept of time these days. Tuesday is no different than Saturday and I couldn't tell you if we've been here for days, weeks or months (well I'd have to think about it first).

We arrived last Tuesday afternoon and since then we have spent most of our time unpacking, spending time with friends who passed through town last weekend, and visiting with my sister and nephew this week. So if you're wondering how we're adjusting to our new life it'd be almost impossible to answer. So far so good, but this isn't normal life yet. The reality hasn't quite sunk in.

Adam had his first day of residency yesterday and is on his first overnight (30 hour) call today. Nothing like jumping right in. His rotation this month is at the Medical ICU at Harborview (similar to Cook County in Chicago). He's overwhelmed and nervous. He is responsible for patients in a way he never has been before and that surely is a sobering, yet empowering thought. I am enormously proud of him and loved seeing him come home from orientation one day with his new, full-length white coat embroidered with Adam Johnson, M.D.

His life is full and structured and mine is anything but. I have kept busy and distracted with friends, family and fun and haven't started thinking about the job search or really accepted the fact that I am unemployed. Yikes. I keep saying I need to give myself a grace period, and extend myself some grace. I know it's true, but it's hard to live in that and not feel like I'm just making excuses. The job search and all its stress and insecurities will come soon enough. I could be convinced to take some time off this summer, but once the bills start coming in the sense of urgency will arrive.

We miss Chicago. I'm not crippled by homesickness, yet. I live somewhere in the tension between sadness and loss and hopefulness and expectancy. I think that when all is said and done, when we've uprooted our lives and driven across the country with all our belongings in the truck behind us and our cat in between us, and arrived at our new 'home' that we'd never seen and could only find thanks to the wonder of GPS and Garmin, that being OK is more than I could have safely hoped for.

I did experience a strange sensation on our trip. The further west we got, the more I felt at home. I loved every mile of the scenery that rolled by. The plains, the badlands, the foothills, the mountains. It's all achingly beautiful in my eyes. The west is where I belong and I believe that soon it will become my home. It hurt to the very core of my being to leave our life in Chicago, and the longing is far from subsiding. When we passed the junction of 94-E and 90-W somewhere more than a 1000 miles away from Chicago I wanted nothing more than to take the exit and head back. I may have if we would have been able to resume life as normal, if our apartment and jobs were waiting for us. I praise God that they are not, and that I wasn't faced with that decision. We were led here and in the midst of all the newness and unknown there is peace and there is hope.

So that, my friends, is our update.

a list

2009-04-21T12:35:00.000-07:00

I love lists. This one is in honour of the last 8 years of my life. I'm making a running list of the things that I will, and won't, miss about Chicago (I'm not listing any people - that's obvious).

here goes (in no particular order):

Will miss:
Tre Kronor
Dawali
Lincoln Square
Winnemac Park
North Park
the RP (Ravenswood Pub)
my apartment
annual pub crawl
Ravenswood Covenant Church
kickboxing class
Mayfest/Germanfest
downtown Chicago
living on the first floor
Cubs games
summer
impromptu barbeques
playing bags at Foster beach
watching little league baseball with Adam
Old Orchard
Cesar's margaritas
chocolate martinis at Bowman's
walking to the Davis Theatre

Won't miss:
the smell of the North Branch
crossing Foster Ave.
North Park
the weather
potholes
using the bathrooms in Magnuson
the water pressure in our apartment
homework

it's time...

2009-04-21T12:33:00.000-07:00

I used to have a Xanga (didn't we all). I posted on it occasionally, but I always hated the thought that people could be reading it, and its true purpose was to waste time at work. Now Xanga days are gone and blogspot is here. I created this blog about two years ago and have been hesitant to "give it a go." I wanted the site so we could save it for a time when our lives are more exciting, or my writing skills are better.

Well... perhaps that time is now here...