New Year's Reflections On Lag Time

 

I know I’m supposed to be reflecting on the past year right about now.  Usually, I’m all over that kind of thing.  But this year, these last days of December have had me fully in ‘important and urgent’ mode (Steven Covey’s Quadrant One) as we relentlessly and incrementally move into our new home.

We do not yet have the ‘occupancy permit,’ which means we’re allowed to do most anything we like in terms of setting up furniture and unpacking boxes.  We’re even okay to eat and generally hang out here (I’m writing from my new desk space).  But with no beds or any appliances yet, we’re not actually living here.  Not until we get the official okay.

There’s no particular problem or delay on this except that things happened over the Christmas break.  Offices are closed and the people who can give us the go ahead are rightfully enjoying their days off.  This explains why we still have the construction site porta-potty in view out the side window.   And while it is challenging to be ‘this close,’ and I find the disorder psychologically disruptive, we’re embracing this time as an opportunity to get things ready one thing at a time.  There’s some comfort in the little spaces that are starting to come together. 

Yesterday was a ‘big load’ day, with the help of our family who gave us the morning and some muscle, and slogged it out in the rain to fill up two and a half vans from the storage unit and bring it on over to our construction-muddy yard.  We had one crew outside and one inside hoping to keep the new floors looking new.  Along with some strategic pieces of bigger furniture, there were many boxes of books.  And the good news there is that I think we’re coming to the end of the books and I’m finding good places for all of them so far. 

It's coming.

Maybe things are just on a bit of a lag, actually.  I hope to get my Christmas cards mailed out today.  So maybe before the end of January, I’ll be in the right space to reflect back on 2024.  It was a big year, so it deserves some good ponderings and processing. 

However you’re finishing off the year, I hope you find yourself loved, and satisfied, and hopeful.

2025, here we come.

A Happy Blurry Christmas

Okay, so where were we?

Thought I'd poke my head up over the boxes for a minute here, and declare Ken and I 'safe in the midst of moving in over Christmas.'  Feels like I barely have any brain right now, so I hope this post will make sense.  But it's all part of the happy collision of chaos that ensues when your construction site manager springs a Merry Christmas surprise and tells you that 'on Friday we'll be done.'  

That's 'the Friday before Christmas' Friday.  And that's 'done so you can start to move stuff in' done.

We have yet to pass the 'occupancy permit' inspection.  That needs the installation of the exhaust hood over the stove, and the gathering of some paperwork that will be more available once folks get back from their Christmas break.  Appliances won't arrive until January 4th.  And anyways, the butcher block kitchen counter has to be finished before the new farmer's sink has running water.  

This means we can't eat or sleep there for the time being.  Between last Friday and today, however, we've been happily driving over to the storage unit, loading up the van, driving back and unloading, and setting up house incrementally like that.  For some of the more hefty and perhaps awkward pieces, we'll drag in one of our more able-bodied family members, because some things just need more muscle.  As it is, Ken and I could both easily audition for one of those pain medicine commercials where the senior goes to bend over or start up the stairs, and stops to grab their knee or put their hand on their back.  No acting required.

This is a more drawn out kind of moving in that the normal 'rent two guys and a truck and dump everything in all at once' method.  But, aches and pains notwithstanding, we're finding the pace to be manageable.  It means we can arrange pieces of furniture and map out where things go without too much else in the way.  And also that we can unpack a van load of stuff at at time, clearing away the cardboard boxes and bins before we head out for another run to the storage unit.

In all of this we have the great convenience of being mere steps away from the new house.  Our son is not rushing us out the door of his house, in any way at all.  Although it has been helpful to have the extra bathroom, and he is reclaiming some of his kitchen cupboards as we set up our own pantry.

And in the middle of all of this was Christmas.

Christmas with our faith community, and the completely packed out services on Monday and Tuesday nights, and all the excitement and tradition of our largely untraditional way of telling the Nativity story at Highview.  I won't give any spoilers here, but I happen to know we were able to collect a goodly donation for supportive housing in Waterloo Region [Indwell] through the generous donations of those in attendance.

And Christmas with family, some of which happened on Christmas Day and some of which is still to come with a drive out to Stouffville and a visit with Ken's sister and their offspring on Saturday.  Too much food, is mostly what I can say about all of that.  But also, the satisfaction of gifts well-given and well-received, and of the best gift, as smarmy as it sounds but also ridiculously true, of simply being together.  There are aspects of my family's story that make this something of a quiet Christmas miracle every year that I will never take for granted.  

And of course all the pictures and videos of the Christmas celebrations at Hot Springs.  Is there really no way to be two places at one time?  My heart keeps asking.

It's been a lot, I confess.  Still is.  Ken and I are feeling the physicality, and also the mental strain of all the van-loading and all the micro-decisions. I think next Christmas, when I look back at this one, I might be singing about having myself a blurry little Christmas. 

Except, in another way, everything is coming into focus.  There's something about having everything upended during for a long time, ending with a season when you usually long for things to be normal, that makes you better understand what parts of that normal are okay to clear away.  There's something about a long unnesting that makes the re-nesting that much more simplified.  There's something about all the micro-decisions that makes the bigger decisions more obvious in the end.  

Okay, back at it.  More pictures to follow.  

And, as we've been saying, once we're really moved in, we're looking forward to having everyone over.  Just not all at the same time :).

Hush the Noise

 

In 1849 a Unitarian Pastor named Edmund Sears wrote the poem that became the Christmas carol, 

"It Came Upon a Midnight Clear."

About the third verse in, he observed in his time....

Yet with the woes of sin and strife

The world has suffered long;
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love-song which they bring;
O hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing.

Politics and Christmas.  

Probably not anyone's best combo.

But there he was.

And here we are.

Big news from Ottawa.

Hard decisions, hot words, 

unhappy uncertainties.

Like December rain, 

dampening holiday spirits.

Ah.

Until.

We hush.

Stop talking.

Stop fighting.

Stop everything.

and 

just

listen.

Maybe then the love song can win.

If not in parliament

then here

in me.

It's a start.

Held

The lights are dim

and the air musk-heavy.

It's quiet

all but the soft shuffling of

animals settling for the night.

What if I am here,

right here,

in this stable,

with this little Family

knowing what I know now?

Knowing already this Child.

not just the Infant,

but the Risen Jesus.

And not just His story,

but Him,

because of how much we've been through 

together.

And what if, in this moment,

I can't take my eyes off that Baby.

And from behind

Someone comes up

put His hands on my shoulders,

tenderly

and asks,

"Would you like to hold the Baby?"

 

The Ceasing of Sad Divisions

I'm still on the whole thing about carol lyrics that could pass by too quickly if I'm not paying attention. Often as not, it's what sneaks in by the third or fourth verse, less known, but making them more compelling because of their slight obscurity perhaps.

1. O come, Desire of nations, bind

1. In one the hearts of all mankind;

1. Bid all our sad divisions cease,

1. And be Thyself our King of Peace.

1. (O Come, O Come Emmanuel)
2. Immediately, I'm thinking of all the wars and rumours of wars that plague our planet right now.  The atrocities of war.  The senselessness of it all.  So big, all that.  Peace on earth.  Yes, come Emmanuel and heal all the wars.  Nations against nations.  Make it stop.
3. But I realize I don't have to go so broadly into all that before I meet up with sad divisions.  Just mention the name of a political leader, use a word you had no idea no longer means what you thought it meant, or ask the wrong question at the wrong time, and suddenly the dividing lines are all too apparent.   
4. Or talk about who is and is not welcome at Christmas dinner.  Navigate the treacherous roads of unforgiveness stored up and unsorted in time for the holidays.  Sad divisions indeed.  Smaller scale, for sure.  But huge in the hearts of those facing them.
5. And...then...
6. Where does conflict begin anyways?  Where does it end?
7. So I can pray for world peace.  But it strikes me that I'd better first be inviting the Desire of Nations into my own heart, to bind it to the hearts of my brothers and sisters.  Especially those with whom I strongly disagree.  
8. Stay away from stupid and senseless arguments.  These only lead to trouble, and God's servants must not be troublemakers.  They must be kind to everyone, and they must be good teachers and very patient.    
9. 2 Timothy 2:23-25
10. It needs to be said here that some divisions are all the more sad because they are necessary for personal safety.  The ceasings of some of that sadness isn't humanly possible, and will require the reconciliation of all things at the end of time before they are able to once again be free to be one heart.  This is I know to be true.  And it makes me all the more aware of how badly things can go wrong, and all the more keen to sing the invitation for Emmanuel to come to heal.  
11. Gladly, I have had several good and true opportunities for open dialogue and informative listening these past months, on a number of touchy, but important issues.  I've learned a lot.  I've also experienced the surprising joy when relationships that have gone horribly south somehow find their way home again.
12. It's making me even more determined and protective of the Bride of Christ, to have us stay unified, loving, focused on mission and not anything else.  To make the main thing the main thing.  Gathered around the manger.  

I guess the opposite of sad divisions is glad reunions.

1. Yes, Lord.  Come.  
2. 
   
3. 
   
4. 
   
5. 
   

Glory Laid By

The carols are so familiar, I'd miss the oomph if I wasn't careful.

On Sunday, it was "Hark the Herald Angels Sing," and the phrase "Mild, He lays His glory by."

It's such an outrageous part of the story, really. That God, very God, the same God that spoke everything into being, the same God that is all-powerful, all-knowing, present everywhere, would chose, in this way, to stuff Himself into time and space, and come down to us...as a baby!

Not as a mighty warrior, or stately king. Not as a superstar or political leader or any other iteration of power.

But as a baby. Helpless. Mild.

I don't have to go too far to bump into the wonder of this. All it takes for me is for someone to, oh say dismiss my Master's degree because it didn't come from the 'right' school. Or call me the 'token woman' on a leadership team. Or mistake me for the secretary when I was the pastor. Or, let's face it, given the right circumstances, I can be less than "mild" if someone cuts me off in traffic.

You might have your own list. The common denominator in all of it is that somehow we feel our 'importance' has been demeaned, or our 'rights' have not been respected, and how dare they?

Mild, He lays His glory by.

In what is considered to likely be one of the first hymns of the early Church, we find these oomph-filled words.

"Who being in very nature God
did not consider equality with God
something to be used to His own advantage.
Rather, He made Himself nothing
by taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness."
Philippians 2:6-7

Mild, He lays His glory by.

So now I've gone and done it. Pretty sure the day is going to be filled with opportunities to lay any little bits of glory by.

Okay, bring it on.
Let's see where the mildness takes me.

Unless the Lord

A few folks have asked for a bit of an update on our house build so here are some pictures as of Sunday afternoon.

Ken was my model to help get an idea of size. The porch, especially, is much bigger than I anticipated, even though it completely complies with our design measurements. There's an overhang right at the front to make for a pleasant place to sit in good weather. And also along the side so we can stay dry unloading groceries or just simply getting into the house.

Inside things also feel bigger than anticipated. We're pretty sure it's because the two main space-making design features we asked for, those being the vaulted ceiling and the longer, then extra windows at the peak, are doing exactly what we hoped for. Our humble 625 square feet look and feel like a lot more.

Yesterday we were able to do a re-measuring of the kitchen space and are feeling more and more confident of the decision to forego a built-in cupboard plan and assemble an 'eclectic' country kitchen out of furniture we already own, enhanced by a few purchased features. Going for a farm-style apron sink and a butcherblock style counter. I'm especially happy that we have the perfect spot for the antique tea trolley that will not only add to the ambiance, but be quite pragmatic in its ability to open up to a small table.

It's kind of hard to get a sense of the bathroom in pictures at this point. Especially with the sink covered up to protect it from the construction that still has to be done in there. But it, too, is bigger than I expected. Those mirrored doors open up to a recessed medicine cupboard, also designed on purpose, to reclaim some empty space between the walls.

I hope the pictures give a sense of how bright it is. All of this was taken with no lights on (electricity should be in by end of the week) and on a dull day. And I include here a shot out the front kitchen window, just to give a perspective of our placement on the property and the proximity to our son David's house.

Today is a loud and messy day. They are coming into the existing house with a jack hammer to dig through the cement in the basement and make the plumbing connections with the city lines. I have escaped to the church to work for at least the morning.

And so. Right now. Despite the delays last spring when our house on Blythwood didn't sell as quickly as we'd hoped, and then other important check points seemed delayed, at this point in the game things are moving along quite quickly. We are still being given a January 11 possession date, and even holding that loosely. Anything can happen during a construction project. Still, it's great to be able to go in almost any time we want to...and measure and plan and dream.

Because of our 'front row seat' advantage, I frequently go down to the double glass doors and just stand and watch the contractors do their thing. And I pray over our home.

I pray Psalm 127:1-2 over our home.

"Unless the LORD builds the house,

its builders labour in vain.

Unless the LORD watches over the city,

the watchmen stand guard in vain.

In vain you rise early and stay up late,

toiling for food to eat --

for He grants sleep to those He loves."

There's a whole lot more in just those two verses than I'll unpack here, the reference to anxious work notwithstanding. For right now, let's just say that these are good words for me to ruminate on in this ongoing experience of trusting God's timing and purpose when it comes to something as basic as where you lay your head at night.

On, then, into the week ahead.
Loving where this Advent is taking me.
Happy Monday all.

The Wild Yes

"I am the Lord's servant," Mary answered.

"May it be to me as you have said."

Then the angel left her.

Luke 1:38

"When Joseph woke up,

he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him

and took Mary home as his wife."

Matthew 1:24

I'm looking for a nativity set right now. For all my Christmas decor (currently put away in bins) this centerpiece of Advent worship is missing. I've been hoping, that if I find one this season, I can set it up on a quiet shelf and let it say what it needs to say to me.

But I'm having a hard time finding one that will do that.

This one pictured is lovely, and set just so with the lights and such. I love the adoring expressions on the faces. But it's not mine, and it's not exactly the rustic-real depiction I'm going for.

I'm picky about this.

I doubt I'm going to find exactly what I'm looking for, but the reality is that, parental adoration notwithstanding, I imagine Mary and Joseph's faces to be more anxious. As in "What in heaven's name have we gotten ourselves into?"

Months ago now, they both said yes to something so unbelievable people, well, didn't believe them. Even Joseph, at first. It took visits from angels to convince them.

How outrageous!

To be tasked with bringing the Messiah to the world. To be asked to nurture the redemptive arch of God's ultimate ethic. To lay aside their own plans for a tidy, unassuming life together, and instead embark on a journey that would see them being chased by a crazed monarch, and landing as refugees in a place far from home. And that was just the beginning.

Of course they didn't know all that in detail when they said their yeses. But, come on, the barging in of the angel would have been a fairly big clue that they were saying yes to something with a high disruption risk.

I admire their courage. And they inspire me, both of them. They set a standard for me. I want a similar story to be written into my own life. Saying yes, and seeing where it takes me.

Saying yes to the impossible task of bringing the Messiah to the world. Of nurturing the redemptive arch of God's ultimate ethic. To lay aside my own plans for a tidy, unassuming life, and stepping boldly out into all that the yes requires. To say the yes that makes me ask, "What in heaven's name have I gotten myself into?"

I'll keep looking for my nativity set.
If not for this year, for next when, Lord willing, we'll be all settled into our new little house.
I think it will go on the mantle.

A Giving-Tuesday Thank You

A generous person will prosper;

those who refresh others

with themselves be refreshed.

Proverbs 11:25

"Giving Tuesday was created in 2012 as a simple idea: a day that encourages people to do good.  The idea caught on, and has grown around the world, inspiring hundreds of millions or people to give, collaborate, and celebrate generosity."  

https://www.givingtuesday.ca

Just wanted to put it out there that I am one hundred percent convinced that generosity is alive and well on our planet!!

And on this Giving Tuesday, all I want to say is Thank You.

My role as Missionary in Residence at Highview Community Church gives me the inside scoop on just how sacrificially and beautifully you set aside your own benefits in order to help make sure others have what they need.  I see this in financial donations, for sure!  The dedication and consistency with which orphans and widows in far away places on the planet receive your gifts is truly remarkable and deeply good.  So are the offerings of time and talent, energy and attention, given in every community effort when we come together on their behalf.  

I'm glad enough for one day dedicated to generosity.  But also, I see it happening every single day.  

You know who you are.

So, on this Giving Tuesday, my prayer over you is directly from Proverbs 11:25.

That because of your wide open hands and heart, you will prosper in all the ways that are truly important (which is far more than materially for sure).  And that you will be refreshed and encouraged in the knowledge that everything you have given in secret is not hidden from God.

Gratefully,

Ruth Anne

Waking Up to Winter

I've made it in to work at the church for the morning. The drive wasn't too bad at all, if you just take your time.

My reward was being greeted by our trees here, who all seem excited to show off their winter bling. So pretty.

Now I'm all tucked into this little office space, ready to take on the day and begin to tackle my list for the week. It's a surprisingly robust list, in spite of December's usual 'lighter' load, work-wise.

I don't mind. Jet lag is all but done with me, and this is a good opportunity to get at all those things that you never get time for but now there's a little time for. Plus, this first week of December is the last week of all the meetings that need to happen before we're all full on into Christmas and can't really focus on much else.

So here's to the first full week in December, and the snow that welcomes us into it.
Here's to quiet, happy, snowy trees.
Here's to meaningful engagement in life in all its abundance.

Merry Monday, everyone!