FOOOOOOOD!

So I'm sitting here thinking: "I need something to eat!" Really? Do I really? I had a satisfying lunch thanks to T.H. If I listen closely to my stomach it is saying "Nope, still good." So I change the wording. Now I'm thinking: "I crave something to eat!" Completely different story. Check my stomach again. Still good. Check my mind and my tongue. Hmmm, something's amiss. Must eat something. Chocolate perhaps? Cake? Better yet, chocolate cake!!! I look around my desk. All I see is a bottle of water. You know, maybe I'm just thirsty afterall?

God's amazing, never-ending, over-flowing love

It seems like forever since I've blogged. Evidently I go in spurts. Right now I feel a need to share something we discussed during our devotions this morning.

Jeff read a devotional by Rick Warren. It talked about how we may love others to the point of feeling drained completely, and what to do at that point. The devotional, being rather simplistic and short, didn't actually explain in practical terms what to do. Rick Warren simply stated that we must re-fuel with God's love for us.

Of course my mind kept pondering long after our devotional time was over.

There are times I feel drained. I don't always love with feeling, although I try my best to love in action. That's easy when the love I show is returned. To love and be loved is such a treasure; it's hardly exhausting. The difficult part of loving is when no appreciation whatsoever is given. Or (as is the case in some instances) the person you need to love the most, actually shows contempt. Is it possible to not get drained; to not give up?

Yes! It is possible to continue loving when our love is rejected!

That's where God comes in. We love because he first loved us! Real love doesn't expect anything in return. Jesus showed us how to love, in spite of being spit on, ridiculed, harrassed and even killed.

He did so by making sure he was in touch with his heavenly Father at all times. He re-fuelled by spending time alone with the Father on a regular basis. He was in tune with what his Father expected of him. His obedience to God trumped his feelings.

Jesus also made a point of loving those who disappointed him. An example of that is when Peter denied knowing him at a time when Jesus was in greatest need of support. Jesus still loved him. He went out of his way to let Peter know he was forgiven and loved still.

We, as believers, need to do the same. We might look like fools to the world, but that doesn't matter. As long as we know we are loved by the Almighty God; as long as we re-fuel on his love by spending time alone with him; as long as we know we are doing as Christ would have us do; what does it matter what the world thinks of us? Even when we feel inadequate, we can rely on the Holy Spirit to strengthen us so we may be obedient in Christ's love.

Lord, help me to please you. May I be so secure in your love that it spills over on to others. I thank you for contiually forgiving and loving me. Remind me to do the same for others.

Just wondering...

I'm sitting here and my heart is heavy. Actually, not really heavy; just sad. I'm trying to figure out why some people have to act in such hurtful ways. Do we really need to tear others down to feel better about ourselves? Is it necessary to laugh at others to feel closer to each other? Why are we so quick to judge and criticize when we have no idea what another person's motives might be?

We all have insecurities and we all cope with those in different ways. Some gossip, some lash out, some write, some use humour, some cry, some hide, some pretend to be happy, some exercise, some drink, some eat and others diet. Those more mature don't try to cover up their insecurities Instead they admit their issues and let others know they are not alone in their pain.

This world is a hard enough place. We need to stop judging one another. And just because we see things differently, we do not have to deliberately knock one another down or attempt to hurt someone.

I wish everyone could just be honest with each other and talk face to face. I know it's a lot to ask; it takes courage to say to someone "I'm having a problem with you." But it's better than talking behind someone's back without knowing what's behind the other person's actions. We, especially as women, need to be on each others team. Not necessarily agreeing all the time, but at least standing up for each other in love. It's important to have faith in others and give people the benefit of doubt.

I just wonder how much easier our lives would be if we weren't so insecure and could just laugh at our own folly once in a while. Be brave, be honest and above all be forgiving.

Held Hostage

Now that I work at ChristianWeek I get to take home all sorts of books, DVDs and videos. It's one of the many perks of working there. One such book that I'm in the process of reading, is the newly released "Held Hostage" by Ken Cooper.

I wasn't sure what I was getting into when I started this book, but the premis peaked my interest. Ken Cooper was a professional business man who robbed banks as a sideline. The beginning chapters were so-so; I found it hard to read how cocky and full of excuses he seemed to be regarding his lifestyle of crime and duplicity. Then he was shot, arrested and sentenced to 99 years in prison for robbing banks. He could hardly believe it. As a reader, my stomach felt like a rock realizing that this could happen. I do believe in accountability, but come on, a life sentence to "hell on earth" for robbing banks, would hardly bring about neither justice nor rehabilitation!!!

The next part of the book was hard for me to read. I'm just thankful I do not live in the US. What happens to people in prisons there is inhumane to say the least. The author describes crying through the night, overwhelmed at his own sinfulness, while listening quietly to other, younger prisoners get raped, beaten and tortured throughout the "devil's hours". He felt immense guilt for not being able to stop the abuse; especially when he could see the light go out in the victim's eyes come morning. Several suicide attempts took place regularly as they lost all hope.

As I 'd try falling asleep after reading (I always read in bed before going to sleep) I'd cry and mourn for all the unknown young men who, through stupid mistakes, would end up facing such a horrendous fate. I questioned whether or not I should finish the book.

I'm glad I read on. This book is full of hope. Ken Cooper becomes a Christ-follower and, through his prayers and that of other believers around him, the very cell that was called the Lion's Den where all this happened, became a place of prayer and worship. Peace engulfed a once evil group of men.

The book follows Cooper to the Rock where he is to serve out his sentence. Miracle after miracle happens as he grows in Christ and passes on the love Jesus offers. Now, when I put the book down before sleeping, I cry tears of thankfulness that God is such a good God that he never gives up...especially not on those whom society discards as lost causes.

For years, I have felt the desire to reach out to young men; especially somewhat bewildered young men. Maybe because my own son was one of them, but also because as they came through our home, I discovered how wonderful and loving most of them are! Granted, they aren't angels...but who is? The mistakes they make are no worse that the ones we church-going folk make, let alone the ones we made in the past! If God could move in my life at that age and offer forgiveness, why wouldn't he move in theirs?

I haven't really known what to do to help them. All I really could do was open our home, offer some food and a few hugs, tell them Jesus loves them and reprimand them once in a while. And of course, pray! I have prayed and cried many tears over the past 5 years for the young men in our community!

Since my eyes have been opened to the incredible lure of crime & "easy" money for young people, and the consequences for those who buy the lie that crime pays; I've been asking God what he wants for me. I firmly believe God doesn't waste any experience. As a mom, I've faced more than my share of things I never thought possible. I've seen, heard and done things that once would have been unimaginable to me. Why Lord? For what purpose? All this pain, all this sorrow and horror, it can't be for nothing? What would you have me do with it all?

I'm still asking. Reading this book (and others like it), and seeing with my own eyes how poorly our justice system functions, and thinking of all the kids who give up hope way too soon because they feel so unloved and unwanted, knowing how many blame the very God who longs to save them, and realizing how many hurting mothers are out there praying for their kids...well I have to do something! But what? To pray is a given.

Today at church we took communion. I felt sort of empty. Like something was missing. I've felt that a couple of times after church lately...like we're somehow missing the boat. We're a church full of doers. We do this and do that. It's all fine and dandy, and I love the programs we have. But are we missing the "being" part of it while being so busy. And why have so very many people left our church family? Lord, what are you telling us? Are we listening? Maybe we should shut down all and every program we so busily run. A few do all the work and are getting exhausted. Others feel like they aren't part of things and refuse to help. Others feel they can't help and aren't wanted. I think we need to stop the madness. Stop all the programs. Shut down everything from the nursery to the 55 plus group. As a diminishing congregation, let's just sit before the Lord collectively and listen. Find out what HE wants, where HIS priorities lie. I so desire the same movement of the Holy Spirit in our church community as the family of believers at the Rock experienced when they met in their cells. God, come fresh on me!

Then, as communion ended, Linette's beautiful voice started singing "Amazing Grace". I started crying. The Holy Spirit spoke directly to my heart and brought me right back to the moment I considered Jesus. I was sitting in a doctor's office discussing having an abortion at the age of 19 when through the open window I heard the Salvation Army band sing "What a friend we have in Jesus". I went through with the abortion, and all the consequences thereof, but I can still hear that band playing. As our congregation joined Linette singing "My chains fell off, I've been set free" tears rolled down my face. I was overwhelmed with thankfulness that I was forgiven and set free as a prisoner of sin, a year after I made that terrible decision.

I praised God for giving me a fresh wave of thankfulness. I need to constantly remember how wretched I am without Christ. Even more, I need to remember how powerful, awesome, loving and prayer-answering our God is!!!

I received a vision of what I should do. It makes no sense and the practicality of it overwhelms me. But I believe the Lord wants me to start visiting prisons. I could start out with the least threatening one, the most familiar one...Milner Ridge, and work my way through Headingley to Stoney Mountain. Just when I thought I'd never have to return to Milner Ridge, I'm starting to see that maybe God wants me there on a regular basis.

My flesh questions "What difference can a middle-aged woman like me make in a place like that?" Then I think of people like Marie Enns who started an orphanage, and the woman who started an AIDS hospice and the couple who visited Ken in prison offering him hope in Christ. God choses the weak right?

Anyway, I'm not sure where this is taking me. I just had to write it down so I don't forget. I asked God for direction. I asked God to show me his purpose in all this. I asked God to come fresh on me. And I asked him what was wrong with our church and if we were listening. The answer seems to be with me. Am I listening? Am I willing to do, not just be? Not: is the church listening and willing to be not just do! Funny how often the Lord turns our own questions back at us.

If you read this, please pray for me as I continue to explore God's will for me in all this. I do not want to jump ahead of him or approach this lightly. As the convicts in the book I'm reading keep saying; "I'm gonna ask the Big Boss before moving ahead."

By the way, I'm just at the part in the book where God works a miracle again. Ken Cooper is up for parole after God answered their prayer for the judge to release his 33 year minimum juristiction over him in a God-induced foggy state of mind. Now I want to get back to reading.

Nicholas, you are so ridicholas!

Oh what a fun time I had with my grandson today! He is the cutest, absolutely most hilarious little guy in the world! And he is soooo much like his daddy, it makes me giggle.

I wasn't supposed to see him today. In fact, we had him all weekend so his mommy could go for a well-deserved time away with girlfriends. She works days only this week, or so we expected, so when she picked Nicholas up yesterday evening we were informed that he would be taken care of without our help right until Friday. So imagine my suprise when mommy called me at 8am this morning! They wanted her to stay late at work; could I pick him up from daycare?

Ok, pause here...have you heard such a ridiculous question? OF COURSE I COULD! I had other things I was supposed to do tonight, like attend Pampered Chef training, go for coffee with a friend I haven't seen for a while, continue the purging I began in the kitchen yesterday, hang up the laundry that's laying around in baskets all over the place, or wash my hair. (No, not really wash my hair, I just threw that one in there, as I hear others do that in the evenings.) But when held up against the option of hanging out with cool Nick, my to-do list seemed erased.

Work was good today. I finally found the time to clean up! Which is a good sign, I'm all caught up otherwise...in fact, I'm ahead. The old Molly Maid in me came out and those guys didn't know who had replaced the otherwise laid back Liz. The end result was beautiful, including the fresh smell of Lysol and Vim. My male co-workers thanked me. (FYI - it takes more than one SOS pad to scrub clean a toaster oven used by guys who love cheese and detest cleaning.)

I also got to see my daughter again. We had lunch. At least I think it was my daughter I sat and ate with. This particular version had blindingly bright shock pink hair. Not just a few strands either. Her whole head looked like a glow-in-the-dark Pepto Bismal bottle! Sigh. Thankfully, she has such a face that it even outshines florecent colours. My girl could be bald and still extremely beautiful. (For anyone who doesn't know, Christina is taking hair-dressing at school so I expect a few changes over the next several months.)

Today's theme must be hair, because when I picked up Nicholas from daycare they had used glue and paint (or something like that) to create a bright blue mohawk out of his soft, blond hair. I was stunned. "Isn't he cuuuuute!!!!" the young daycare workers squeeled as if they had created a masterpiece. I have a hunch one of them is related to Picasso, I'm sure I saw a trace of it in their creation. I don't like Picasso's art and I didn't like Nicholas' hair either. However, just like his auntie, Nicholas is beautiful no matter what his hair looks like and on the bright side, at least it wasn't pink, right?

I didn't want to spend the evening picking up toys, singing babablacksheep and saying no to the snack cupboard all evening, so Nicholas and Bamma went straight to the mall. I covered his head with a hat and explained a bit about what was acceptable and not for a young man at the mall. Nicholas of course understood and kept his hat on. I actually think he was slightly embarrassed by the new do himself. Of course his hat sat on his head the same way Marge Simpson's hat does, a wee bit up in the air. One might think he had a pet in there.

We went straight to the hair dresser and made an appointment for Nicholas. Enough was enough and I was sure his mom would agree...the boy needed a hair cut. We had 1/2 hour to kill before chop-chop time so we hit the food court like any Fehr would. Apparently, a mohawk makes the boy hungry; he not only ate his spagetti but also most of my pizza. (Natalie and I got him hooked on pizza when we ordered it for breakfast on Saturday.) He also downed a milk carton and part of my water bottle. I like watching a boy eat, totally abandoning himself to his food with utmost enthusiasm. Big Nick grunted with pleasure as he twirled the cheese off the pizza and swooped that spagetti between his lips. So cute.

The hair cut went well. Bamma was SO proud of her little grandson! He sat perfectly still, and made his disapproving frown only when he got spritzed. It took a bit of scrubbing to get the blue out. "What is that stuff???" the hairdressers questioned amongst themselves. Only Picasso would know.

Once Nicholas looked like a normal boy again and the thousand Goodbye's were said (Nicholas says bye as if it were a question... bye? bye? bye?) we were off to Shopper's Drugmart for a reward. Have I mentioned how brilliant my almost 16 month old grandbaby is? I took down three different snack items, all of which I know he loves, and explained "You only get one, Nicholas, now choose carefully...which one would you like?" He right away grabbed the bag of banana/strawberry snacks. I asked if he was sure and he nodded. To be totally sure I took the bag back and gave him one of the cans containing star shaped treats. He handed it back and went straight for his original choice. So, I put the rest back on the shelf, tore open his bag of treats and he started grunting happily again as we continued shopping.

I got to go to all my stores without Nicholas complaining once. He even helped me pick out a hand lotion at La Senza. I knew he liked the same one I did when he tried eating it. Such a darling. Even Bampa complains at the mall, and he certainly won't come to La Senza with me!

We found Nicholas some shoes, in fact they're Airwalks. (Beats me what Airwalk is but it seemed like an important brand so I thought it might justify the purchase.) They were on sale for $7 and perfect for Nicholas' wide feet. He let me know by not kicking them off right away.

Before heading home I let my grandson check out the play area. A very cool place. That's where Nicholas became ridicholas!!! He started laughing, and throwing himself backwards on the floor. Not tantrum style, just totally opposite. The other kids were fascinated by his lunatic ways, even the older cooler 4 year olds. And the parents couldn't help but laugh along. Nicholas ran around and laughed out loud for about twenty minutes. I think he might have been tired, but he was having so much fun I sure didn't want to interupt. So were all the spectators. I could have charged a fee for watching and they all would have stayed. Did I mention he's like his daddy?

It wasn't until he ran out of the play area and down the mall that I had to call it quits for the day. As mentioned in an earlier entry, I don't do running, so I limped as fast as I could to catch him. Barefoot! (No shoes allowed in the play area, not even for Bamma's and certainly not Airwalks!) Leaving bags and all behind Bamma chased ridicholas Nicholas past several stores and shoppers. That was fun.

When we got home, the true dizzy lizzy came out. First, I parked at Kat's house thinking it would be so much easier to just go straight there. Not until I got out of the car did I remember I didn't have her keys with me. So back in the car and home to Bamma's. In the house, grab the keys, say bye? bye? bye? to Bampa and off we walk to Kat's. Nicholas became ridicholas again. He laughed and fell so many times I was cramping from laughing too hard myself. Clearly the little dude was not aware of Bamma's bladder "issues" when laughing, or he might have offered up a Huggies or two. Not that size five would fit me, but the gesture would've sufficed.

At this point we both were tired and ready for bed. However, after many choice words with the "stupid" door lock at Kat's and explaining to Nicholas that he needn't repeat everything he hears Bamma say, I realized I had the wrong key.

Back to Bamma's, hi and bye? bye? bye? to Bampa and laugh and fall, laugh and fall all the way back to Kat's. To my relief I had the right keys this time.

HOWEEEEEVER...mommy dearest had left the chain locked and Bamma is not Inspector Gadget. So around the house, through auntie Charlene's we go, stopping to comment on every beautiful flower and falling and laughing, falling and laughing, until we reach the back door. Have you ever tried opening Kat's back door??? I suggest you don't unless you want an exercise in patience. She likes to lock the handle. The handle likes to stay locked. It probably enjoys the frantic barking of crazy Kilo the wiener dog, and the sound of Bamma's outside voice speaking in Italian.

Once in, my beautiful baby grandson walked straight upstairs laughing himself straight to his crib. There he laid down, gave Bamma a kiss, waved bye? bye? bye? until I shut the light off, and voila! he was sleeping. Beautiful, wonderful, incredible, miraculous, marvelous, straight-from-heaven, ridicholas Nicholas! I love you my sweet! You are indeed my sunshine, just like your daddy.

Bye? Bye? Bye? It's bedtime. This Bamma's exhausted!

Yawn!

I'm sitting here at my computer, listening to the clunk,clunk,clunk of the wannabe drummer playing Rockband in our basement. I should be in bed. I am so very tired. I'm tired in the morning, tired in the afternoon, tired in the evening...you get my point.

Funny, I do not know why I'm so very sleepy all the time. Most people would blame the weather. It has been raining a lot, and it's cold for summer.

When the kids were younger it meant so much to have balmy summer weather. I would take them out for picnics, we'd go to the park or the zoo, and we loved the beach more than anything. Cold summers were disappointing.

Now I find I'm home most of the time, rain or shine. I cannot complain or blame. It was very warm and beautiful outside for a while and all I heard was complaining regarding the heat. People were sweating to death! Now apparently they are freezing to death. I for one am the same...thanks to air conditioning.

I don't go out much. If I do it's over to a friend's house or out shopping. At work the temperature is consistent one week to the next. I feel I have no right to complain about the weather as it makes little to no difference. Certainly the rain would only make me sleepy if I actually paid attention to it, no?

Then there is stress. I could blame my sleepiness on the fact that I just started a new job and I look after our grandson on a regular basis. However, I absolutely love my new job and I love my grandson even more. (I miss him terribly if I don't seem him for a day.) So no, not stress.

Rod thought that my medication made me groggy. So I stopped taking my happy pills over a month ago. Nothing changed. Am I depressed? That could make one sleepy. However, I'm happy. Exciting things to look forward to even. D-day is in 6 days! Woo hoo...light at the end of the tunnel!

Jesus has given me such inner joy and peace lately too. Depression has been far from my heart. In fact, driving back and forth to work has been my main time of worship this past month. I sing along to Avalon and Newsboys and my heart is filled with such praise. One day I just started crying; the happy kind of crying. I said out loud "I love you so much Jesus, I just love you so much!"

You see, God has been so very good to me. He brought me through, he strengthened my resolve, he healed my emotional pain, he gave me joy..the real kind, the kind I asked for, the kind that remains when chaos reigns in circumstances. How can I not be thankful?

I know, now more than ever, that whatever comes my way, sun or rain, joy or pain, loss or gain, God will reign!!! (Hey that ryhmed! And I didn't even try.)

God is good. It is true! All the time he is good. Even when nothing makes sense! Believe me my friend, GOD IS GOOD!!! He knows. He knows! One day we'll get it. All of it.

Anyway, back to being sleepy. So, what's my take on it? I blame myself. Not stress, not weather, not meds. Once upon a time when I couldn't sleep at all I asked God to grant me the ability to sleep. Just like I asked for the ability to eat again. I vowed never to complain about my weight or feeling tired; I'd rather be fat, sleepy and happy than thin, awake and miserable. Yupp, God answers prayer. That's what he does, it's just who he is. So I shouldn't be suprised that I am sleepy and hungry A LOT. Summer or winter, meds or no meds, stress or no stress.

Praise God for sleep! Praise God for a cozy bed and a husband to sleep beside! Praise God for a comfy couch during the day! Praise God for food, the ability to cook and the choice not to! Praise God for air conditioning! And praise God for the teenagers in my basement pretending to be rock stars!

I love my life, and I really love my Jesus! And that's the honest truth.

Meaningless drivel

I really have very little to blog about. I just spent some time reading other blogs this evening and I realized it's been ages since I wrote myself. Wanna hear something ironic??? For the longest time all I wanted was to quit my job so I could spend more time writing and working on my Pampered Chef business. Well, my last day working for Herzing was March 25. That's a month and a half ago!!! I have blogged ONCE since then. And I haven't written in my journal at all! Neither have I spent much time building my business.

So what have I been doing? The first week or so was a write-off. I was an emotional wreck. I was also a full-time babysitter to my grandson for two weeks. God knew I was meant to be a Bamma, not a daycare, so he performed a miracle. Nicholas was accepted in to a daycare way before we thought possible. So, more time for me to fulfill my goals right? Wrong. Although I have been spending considerable time playing with and caring for Nicholas, I cannot blame him for my laziness. I am in a rut! Perche? you ask..(if you're Italian or work at Herzing that is)

Ah, the lure of television. It has been so long since I've been able to sit in my grubs with a cup of coffee and watch daytime tv. Who says it sucks? Not me. Not anymore. There are so many do-it-yourself programs on HGTV. And I am hooked on the cooking channel! Never mind The View, Regis & Kelly and Rachel Ray. Right now I'm even fascinated with Dr. Phil as he tries to repair parent/child relationships. I have become an addict and I need help! (Maybe I should call Dr. Phil myself, huh?)

Then there is Facebook. Yikes! What a time waster that is. I do quizzes that tell me what colour I am, what my eyes say, (I never knew they said anything) and which princess I am. I know what kind of socks my friend wears, who has a crush on whom in our church youth group, what my kids' friends are up to (although my daughters themselves won't befriend me), what's up with Jon & Kate, and what the weather is like in four different countries. Once in a while I even join the young'uns in a discussion or two. Sometimes I even feel like I'm really part of it, other times they just tolerate me. Like when I suggested to Craig that he should watch Bride Wars instead of Doom of the Dead or something. Not popular.

This is the long weekend. It is flying by. Tomorrow is Sunday already. I still haven't baked anything, vacuumed anything, washed anything, or planted anything. We even had left overs for supper today. And tomorrow night I definitely won't have any spare time. The season finale of Survivor is on for crying out loud! I do have my priorities straight, you know.

But now at least I can say I have written something. Meaningless drivel, but it's here in black and white. I think I might need to get a job to get into a routine. I actually have an interview next week. Part of me would rather stay at home with C,C &C. (Cable, Coffee & Computer) But of what good am I to others this way? Maybe if I watch Oprah, she can tell me...

Until next time,
She who has Happy eyes!
(even when the brain is sleeping and the heart is weeping)