'Tis the Season to be Moving

This seems to be the season in our family to be moving. In April, my brother bought his own house and moved out. In May, my mom and my other brother moved into a new apartment. In June, my in-laws moved into their retirement farmhouse. And now my husband and I are in the middle of moving to a small town in northern Alberta, where he will be teaching in September.

Our apartment is currently a mess of boxes (mostly books--that was the easy place to start, though it took one of my friends three hours to pack all of them) and things to pack. I have a long to-do list of changing addresses, seeing friends, cancelling services like the internet, and of course, the packing.

After our move, we'll be bouncing around the province for a few weeks, at a family reunion and then doing some visiting and camping before settling into our new home for the fall. So with all of that, I'll be taking a break from blogging until sometime late August. Have a happy summer!

Understanding Mary

When my friend lent me Mary—A Catholic-Evangelical Debate by Dwight Longenecker and David Gustafson, I was still a bit dubious about where I was at with Catholic beliefs about Mary. I brought the book home, stuck it in my “to read” pile, and there it sat for about a year. Then our friends came to visit us for Sunshine’s baptism, and we planned a visit to Saskatchewan for their daughter’s baptism. It was about time to return the book, so I dusted it off and started reading.

Mary—A Catholic-Evangelical Debate is a discussion between a Catholic and an Evangelical about what they each believe about Mary. Dwight is a Catholic convert who tracked down his old university buddy David to talk about Mary. Their discussion is informative and interesting, as each explains their own position on Mary and why they disagree with the other—or where they manage to find agreement.

Since reading it, I’ve found myself wondering what I would have thought if I’d read this book a few years ago. I’ll never know that answer. Yet even I was surprised at how much I found myself agreeing with Dwight’s statements and questioning David’s statements. Mary is one of the topics that Protestants find the hardest to swallow. It was probably the only area that raised questions for me when I was reading the Catechism while dating my husband. Though my husband’s answers settled most of my questions, I remained a bit dubious about Mary. Others could pray the rosary and exercise Marian devotion; I’d just accept what the Church taught about her, but it didn’t have to affect my daily life.

Throughout the book, Dwight challenges David to go deeper into his faith by exploring what Mary means to the church. Dwight kept saying that Mary always points us to her son, Jesus. Like any mother, she wants Him to get all the attention and adoration. And while Dwight admitted that some Catholics take this further than others—and that some Catholics perhaps even take it too far—I agree that Catholic understanding of Mary enriches our understanding of Jesus, the Church, and God’s plan in history.

The book held a couple surprises for me. First was how early so many of the teachings and dogmas of the church were developed. Within a few centuries after Jesus, theologians were already teaching most of what the Church teaches today, even about Mary. Since many of these doctrines are complicated and complex, I somehow thought that it would have taken much more thinking, prayer and debate to develop them. Second was the fact that most of the reformers, including Luther and Calvin, held onto what the Church taught about Mary. While they had a few issues with other things going on in the Church, they didn’t have any questions about Marian doctrine.

Overall, I found the book an excellent resource on Mary. Neither Dwight nor David was trying to “win” the debate; rather, they just wanted to share what they believed and to understand each other’s faith better. And since I think one of the greatest divisions between Catholics and Protestants is merely a misunderstanding what the other believes, I really appreciated and enjoyed this book.

Accolade and Inspiration

Today I'm posting over at Inscribe Writers' Online about writing accolades and inspirations.

What Am I Doing?

There have been a few times in my life where I’ve found myself wondering what I’m doing here—or, to phrase it as most people do, “What’s the purpose of life?” These times usually come when I’m doing something that I’ve long dreamed of doing, but when I’m doing it, find that it alone isn’t enough to give me the fulfillment that I want.

The first time was when I was in Australia in 2005. For years, I’d dreamed and talked about travelling. Stories of Australia and the outback had captured my imagination. And when I realized, between my last two years of university, that I had both the time and the money to go… I was off! After only about a month there, however, I found myself lonely, bored, and disillusioned. Why had I come? Was I just there to have fun? Somehow, that didn’t seem like enough of a reason. The opportunity to buy and read Rick Warren’s book The Purpose-Driven Life helped me greatly in my questioning right then. Now, as I look back on that time, I see that God was using it to draw me closer to Him.

The second time was much more recently, when I became a stay-at-home mom. Again, ever since I was little, that has been my “career goal.” And yet, when I was finally at home with my daughter, trying to figure out how to keep her entertained without losing my sanity, I began wondering if this was all there was to it. Was I just meant to feed, change, burp, and play with a baby? I do believe that motherhood is a high calling, yet in the mundane moments, I questioned myself and my dream. There had to be something more here, something deeper.

The other night, I was surfing blogs while bouncing Sunshine to sleep. Jen’s post caught my attention immediately, as she addressed this question that had so often troubled me. She put the answer into a nutshell: The meaning of life is to know, love and serve God.

“Yes!” I thought. That is what my ponderings have always brought me back to. When I find that my life has become mundane, it is because God is calling me back to the things that He created me to do: knowing, loving, and serving Him. When that attitude underlies all that I do—caring for Sunshine, helping my husband, writing my blog, and doing the other day-to-day tasks that come my way—then my life has purpose.

Land of Vast Hills

Susanna Moodie emigrated with her husband from England to Canada in 1832. She had been a prolific writer in England, and found that the adventures and sights in Canada also gave her much to write about. One of the poems that she penned about Canada jumped out at me, because it expressed so much of what I love about this country—particularly the mountains and the northern areas of Alberta that I’ll soon be “emigrating” to.

Land of vast hills and mighty streams,
The lofty sun that o’er thee beams
On fairer clime sheds not his ray,
When basking in the noon of day
Thy waters dance in silver light,
And o’er them frowning, dark as night,
Thy shadowy forests, soaring high,
Stretch forth beyond the aching eye,
And blend in distance with the sky.
And silence—awful silence broods
Profoundly o’er these solitudes;
Nought but the lapsing of the floods
Breaks the deep stillness of the woods;
A sense of desolation reigns
O’er these unpeopled forest plains,
Where sounds of life ne’er wake a tone
Of cheerful praise round Nature’s throne,
Man finds himself with God—alone.
~ Susanna Moodie (1803-1885)

Girlfriends' Getaway

I don’t remember whose idea it first was, but all three of us agreed it was a good one. We picked three days between when we finished our final exams and started our summer jobs, and planned to head to Jasper to celebrate the end of our first year of university. Then it snowed. A lot. I stood in the Husky gas station where I worked as a cashier, looking out at the four inches of snow blanketing the town, and talking for about two hours with my friends about whether or not we should still go and if we did, where we should stay.

I wanted to camp. They wanted a motel. We finally compromised: first night in the motel, second night in the tent. One of my friends told her parents exactly what we were doing; my other friend told her parents we were staying in a motel, because if she told them we were camping, they’d worry about her; and I told my parents we were camping, because if I told them we were staying in a motel, they’d call us wimps. (They all laughed at us when we finally told them what we were really doing.)

When we arrived in Jasper, the park office presented us with a third option by giving us a listing of bed & breakfasts. We were unable to get a hold of any of the hosts, however; so we headed out to hike a trail. After a year of sitting at my desk studying, I was gung-ho to get moving. My friends were a little less so. Particularly when we’d been hiking for quite a while without any sign of the lookout that we were heading for. I kept insisting that it was just around the next corner. Finally, they convinced that we were all getting tired and still had to find a B&B, so we turned around and headed back. Later, when I talked to my mom about it, I found out we weren’t even on the right trail in the first place.

We were sitting at a pay phone with all the change that we could come up with, trying to call B&Bs, when a lady walked up to say that she had one. We quickly looked her up on the list, nodded to each other that her place met all of our criteria, and followed her back there. We cooked our supper, watched some American Idol, and tucked in for the night. However, the guests in the suite upstairs spent the night partying—though I only knew about it because my friends told me about it the next morning when I woke up. They hadn’t gotten any sleep.

We decided to drive out to the Columbia Icefields so that they could sleep while I drove. The rest of the trip passed fairly uneventfully. We took some great pictures, had some good laughs, and got to know each other better. They still laugh at how soundly I can sleep, and I learned to better match the trails with the people I’m hiking with.

Since that year, our Jasper trip has become an annual event. Usually only five or six of our group of eight friends can make it, because it’s so hard to coordinate schedules. This last weekend, five of us made the trip. I drove up from my grandparents’ place with Sunshine to meet them at the Columbia Icefields and then head on to Jasper. It was great to catch up on all the news—an engagement, who’s moving, new jobs, grad school plans, etc. They had fun playing with Sunshine, and I enjoyed having four babysitters there anytime I needed to tie my shoe, eat, take a picture… We laughed again over that first trip six years ago. Then, we were all university students; now, we’re finding jobs, getting married, and moving around the province.

So I am back once again, with a camera full of pictures, lots of good memories, and a feeling of being refreshed. ‘Till next year, girls!

Sixty Years Ago Today

Today is my grandparents' sixtieth wedding anniversary. Ten years ago, while we were planning a big celebration for their fiftieth, my aunt asked me to write a poem for them. The very idea gave me writers' block. What was I to say? But after much emailing back and forth with my aunt, some ideas emerged into this poem. So, to Grandma and Grandpa, congrats on sixty years together!

Fifty Years Together

Just fifty years ago today,
The pretty Hainstock schoolteacher
Wed the local farmer of cows and hay.
And for their weekend honeymoon
They traveled to Jasper – the muddy way!

Ten years later love was still strong.
Mom was teaching her three children
And Dad had the cows he had all along.
There was a story every night,
And hard work farming, learning right from wrong.

Still there two decades afterward
Dad’s cows, Mom’s hens, and the children’s
Sheep, turkeys, geese, cats, and dog filled the yard.
The family bought a new Biscayne—
The children learned to drive that bright red car.

They were thirty years married when
They took their daughter on a trip,
Leaving the two boys in charge of the hens.
But they forgot their good clothes and
When they came home, the boys said, “What chickens??”

Forty years, family twice as large;
First a wife for the eldest son
Then three grandchildren in the family barge.
For the daughter a husband with
Eleven Volkswagens and a garage.

Now they’ve been married fifty years.
Through those years, there’s been happiness
And health, sickness, wealth, and yes, a few tears.
Their family loves them very much:
To Grandma and Grandpa on this day, cheers!

What We Do

Today I'm blogging over Inscribe Writers' Online.