You Know It's a Beach Day When

 

When you get dumped off the paddle board by your brother, but it's too much fun, and you come up laughing and laughing in a way that catches your Gramma's heart, so she takes a picture....you know it's beach day.

When you go on a long walk all the way down the beach to the point, and it's the most walking you've done since you got to the (rocky, no roads island) cottage, so you look at your watches to see how far you've gone and it was almost 2 km and your Mom sees you coming and takes a picture...you know it 's a beach day.

When you plonk down beside your Gramma in the chair beside her under the umbrella that you were able to push way down into the sand because now you're that strong, and you start talking about how far you were out in the water a few minutes ago, and how the sandflies are biting your legs, and how you hope to get your bronze medallion one day, and your Gramma asks if she can take your picture, but it turns out all squinty, so you let her take another one and it turns out okay....you know it's a beach day.

When you find a very interesting, if not smallish shell, and you want to show your Gramma, but your hat blows off and lands in the water while your Gramma is taking the picture....you know it's a beach day.

When you're hanging out talking politics and eating snacks from the cooler with your sister and brother-in-law, and the conversation is energetic and intelligent and your Mom loves that her adult children get along this well so she takes a picture, but you're the only one who thinks their picture is okay to post so your Mom crops it and you look real cool...you know it's a beach day.

When your whole family wants to go to the beach but you have a meeting at 1 p.m. and you're really the only one who really knows where those shoals are just past the main channel on the way out to Giant's Tomb island, but you have the ability to use hot spot and you're willing to figure it out and you have your meeting on the boat while everyone is playing in the water around you and your wife finds this a conflicting moment of admiring your work ethic while being annoyed at the interruption so she takes a picture...you know it's a beach day.

When you're a crafty seagull and someone carelessly leaves an unopened package of cookies, not in the cooler but in a open bag, and you realize everyone is looking at the kids playing in the water, so you sneak back there and manage to take the package out of the bag AND open it before Harvest catches you in the act and scares you off but you still feel quite proud of yourself and perhaps even hopeful that you might be able to scam something else off this happy little group, and the Gramma lady wants to take your picture so you pose nicely...you know it's a beach day.

So grateful to continue this cottage family time tradition!

**All pictures posted with permission (exception: one thieving seagull).

An Unforeseen Kiss

 

I have brought over two cotton summer dresses for mending, and that’s when the moment happens.  Unexpected.  Uncomplicated.  Unassuming.

Ken and I are staying at the bunkie since Sunday when our whole family (almost) arrived to spend our annual time together at the cottage.  Between the ‘actual’ cottage, and some space we’ve begun to reclaim on the property next door (such is the ongoing redemptive story, details another time), we now have ample bedrooms and two bathrooms to share for ten people.  And it works.  Except for when some things are not where you are and you have to go fetch something, which is something every day.

But I’m not fetching for the mending thing.  I have the dresses with me.  So, I just go over and plonk myself down on a chair and start rummaging in the small sewing kit for what I need.  The kit itself is in much more of a mess than I remembered, being a remnant compilation of my mother-in-law’s past sewing passion, and my own sundry stitchery-stuff extras from the purging we did when we moved.  I eventually find the kind of needle I need, and some white thread, which will do nicely.

As I stitch, which I’ve always found calming, I become more aware of the various activities of my family around me.  The heat and stiff winds coming at us all day have us now inside in the later part of the afternoon, windows open to welcome the breeze, sheltered from the sun.

Grandad is playing cribbage with Zachary and Harvest, the game being thoroughly discussed for every hand.  Ken loves card games more than I can get my head around them, so he’s always in such a good mood when he can get grandkids interested, taught, and practiced up to a level where they can give him a run for his money (poor idiom since no gambling happens at all). 

Uncle David has humoured Timothy with his request for Snakes and Ladders.  Timothy is making his way through everyone, one at a time, because he LOVES Snakes and Ladders.  When that’s done, David finds the giant board of games that has been up here for ages, and shows Timothy how to keep the monkeys out of the swamp.  This is almost as good as Snakes and Ladders, and that’s saying something!

Jayden and his Dad are playing chess, or rather, Jayden is receiving some tutoring in the game, in the form of those longer, careful instructions you can give on a slow summer afternoon.  Kristyn is enjoying a rare moment with her feet up, which makes me glad.

And then it happens.  This golden moment.  All of us here, I realize.   All of us just being simply together in this place. 

And I hold my breath to hold the moment. 

All of us here, and that’s no small thing.  So much, so much has tried to tear us apart.  Yet here we are.  It's not lost on me.  All of us.

And here I should say almost all of us, because Abby’s arriving on Friday, the adult young woman that she is, driving up in her very own car.  And so we grow.

I let the breath go, but hold the moment longer.  I don’t want to get up, so I start sorting the mending kit; buttons, and spools, and safety pins, and needles, and the little end pieces of thread I never throw out for some reason.   And I take my time with this, slow, methodical, listening.  Letting this be unassuming, real, uncomplicated.  Just us. 

These are the touch points of something much bigger than us, I know.

                                     ....when heaven meets earth like an unforeseen kiss.

                                               Oh How He Loves - David Crowder

The Not So Quiet Weekend, Maybe

 

A very quiet, glassy paddle around the island this morning, heading into Friday and the weekend.  Loved the little hello from this friend who, even when I stopped paddling and drifted in a little closer, did not bolt, but posed nicely before wishing me a good day and sauntering off.

Coming back and having my morning shake on the deck, I was honoured by a longish hover of the humming bird, quiet close.  My summer dress has a quite splash of bright fuchsia, and I think I was mistaken for a flower.  How flattering!

I am especially enjoying the quiet this morning, not entirely sure how to anticipate the weekend given a recurrence of excessively loud music from some cottage neighbours last Sunday night, going on for about four hours.  This has been a problem in the past that we believed had been resolved.  Perhaps not.  

I won't say too much more here, except that this whole thing is teaching me a lot about myself, my own triggers and responses, and how to appropriately self-advocate while holding fast to my desire to model Jesus' grace and love.  Not sure I've got that down yet, but I'm working on it.

Better, happier noise is also anticipated as we prepare to welcome the whole family on Sunday to spend time together here next week.  After that, the parents leave and we just have grandkids roaring around here.  Can't wait!

Yay for a lovely rainy day yesterday and the return of sunshine this morning.

Yay for Fridays.

Yay for weekends full of opportunities to grow.

Yay for the gift of family cottage time!!!

Have a great day!

And may you too be visited by friends.

And may you too be mistaken for a flower, maybe!

The Reset to Start the Day

 

It's rare that the open water is this flat.

I got out just a touch earlier this morning, so that helped.  Ridiculous, because I have so many pictures just like this in my files.  But every time I come around the point, it does something to my soul.  Reading van der Kolk's The Body Keeps the Score right now, and I think he would say that I'm experiencing something of a neurological reset.

The water is calm.

So am I.

Fully present in the moment.

I wonder if that's what the psalmist was trying to do when he wrote:

Be at rest once more, 

O my soul, 

for the LORD has been good to you.

Psalm 116:7

Of course van der Kolk, and many others, suggest various, simpler ways we can re-centre ourselves without the need of a kayak, a large body of water, and a sunrise.  Maybe you have a favourite one yourself to share in the comments, if you are so inclined.

But when I'm here, when I'm out on the flat water, I'll soak in all I can get.  And share my many pictures with you, sorry-not-sorry for how repetitive it might be.

That was a full three hours ago now.  Since then I've showered, hung out a load of laundry, grated carrots in prep for baking later, got something started for lunch, set up my work station on the deck, provided breakfast for no less than seven chipmunks (on the deck at the same time) and two blue jays (who have to move fast if they are going to get any peanuts), and Ken and I got a good start on our kiss-count for the day (that's all I'm saying about that).

Not quite 9 and I'm just checking over the list to prioritize today's work.  It's supposed to be another perfect summer's day here, with some needed rain by tonight and tomorrow.  Yay for the blueberries (which will no doubt be the object of my next set of repetitive pictures!).

Hope you find your reset.

Have a fabulous day.

Turned Around Tuesday Reflections

 

Now that's better!  Yesterday's intentions, in the face of fatigue and discouragement, along with the gentle cheering of the Spirit (Ruth Anne, I know you can do this!), have helped reorient and stabilize my frame of mind toward a more grateful and reasonable disposition. 

And the husband who shares this cottage with me said, "Amen!" 

Two times around the island, one yesterday and one this morning, contributed enormously.  That's 11 so far this season, so I'm feeling good about that.

Yesterday it was a gaggle of friends on the rocks at a place that was narrow enough I felt my Canadian instincts kicking in.  With a slight cringe of the shoulders and lowering of the head, avoiding any hint of challenging body language whatsoever, I passed respectfully, with no incident.

This morning, I came so quietly out of one narrow space that I startled a beaver who in turn startled me.  No picture for this one, but if I had been ready, it would have been a great close up!  Those guys are huge, by the way; this one, enormous!  His mighty kerthunk of tail on the water almost got me wet.

I was also able to settle down into meaningful work, get some satisfying things checked off the list, and have a validating conversation with a friend.  And an extra bonus is a husband who can listen without trying to fix what I just need to say out loud.  All good things to get a week off to a proper start.  

So today's reflection is more about yellow lilies on the water, and the simple blessings of friends (forest and otherwise), long loves, and meaningful work.  Pretty sweet for a Tuesday, I'd say.

Hope yours provides good things too, whatever that means for you.

Intentionality

 

Does this count as a blue bird of happiness?

If you take the hottest days of the season so far, some with record-breaking highs ("feels like" 46!)....

And you pack in a trip back to the city, which is a thing all by itself considering loading the boat and then the van in the heat (so grateful for AC in the vehicle!)...

Then add groceries, banking, laundry, supplies pick-up in prep for family time next week, and a haircut (which didn't turn out so well)...

Tuck in times to meet one new baby in KW, catch up with our kids, stop in at a friend's (every conversation a joy)...

Then add two nights of hot sleeping (really should have bought that extra fan), and a false alarm with our smoke detectors that happened just after I fell asleep and then had me on high-intensity for a little longer while after that (man, that's loud!)....

Then, next morning, reload the van, including a cooler that's going to have to do the trick for an extended period of time, be extra sure you've left the house in good order, which feels mentally harder to do given the poor sleep and continued heat (where's that list again?)...

Then stop in for two important connections in Toronto, one to meet yet another new baby (what a happy thing to celebrate!), that includes chatting with high school buddies not seen in decades (oh the stories!), and the other to briefly touch base with a family member facing impossible challenges with honesty and courage (so much more to say here, except there are no words)....

Arrive back to the cottage to still hot-enough-to-notice-while-loading-and-unloading-the boat temperatures, put away only what absolutely needs to be put away, collapse into bed where (yay!) blankets are actually needed because the heat wave broke...

Wake up to get ready for and then joyfully participate in leading the first service of Cognashene Community Church, right her on the Freddy Channel (always such a delight to open the season together!)....

Have a long and needed nap in the afternoon (Sunday afternoon naps are sacred) but still feeling very slow and low after...

And wind up the whole string of days with a perfect evening to calm and reorient myself by the water, being unfortunately and sadly overtaken by four-consecutive-hours of excessively loud music coming from neighbours on our little bay who seem to have forgotten the manners and restraint they've exercised fairly well in the last five years since we last had this persistent problem (and oh it's that dreadful here-we-go-again feeling).

By this morning, Monday morning, the morning of the week I usually find so positive and refreshing and shiny and new with so many wonderful possibilities ahead....Here I am trying to have grace with myself. since I'm up way too early, feeling unusually agitated, not quite yet able to settle into an intentional space of gratitude and joy.  

The flow of these past "everything" days has pulled me in and out of really good and really not-good zones.  When I lay it all out like I've just done here, I can see it.  So I'm trying to only pick up the happy stuff, and then sort out what I need to do, if I can do anything, about the other stuff.  

Good news is that residents of Georgian Bay Township do have a clear recourse in reporting noise complaints, the week ahead has us staying quietly put for the most part, the heat wave has broken for now with cooler nights, and hair grows.  

And, of course, the abundance of life that is reflected in our events of the last few days is truly an amazing gift.  I know that, and am grateful, truly.

Perhaps I'll get out for paddle number 10 today.  

God Keep Our Land

 

Georgian Bay Sky

(near to Giant's Tomb Island)

PRAYERS FOR CANADA DAY - JULY 1, 2026

Sovereign Lord we praise You for the blessing it is to live in Canada.  

We do not take this lightly.  

,

Beyond all the astonishing natural beauty and bountiful resources of our great country, which would be enough all by itself, we are inexpressibly grateful for our freedoms and privileges as citizens.  There ae so many places in the world right now where this is not so.   We know this.  Don't let us forget it.

We ask on behalf of all our  leaders in all levels of government and civil life.  They carry heavy weight and face enormous challenges as they seek to serve us.  There are difficult, seemingly impossible global and national realities to navigate right now; decisions to be made with huge and far-reaching implications.  Please grant wisdom and humility and clarity to those who broker our well-being.

We ask that all Christians in places of influence within government, education and medicine, be given an extra measure of your grace and humility.  They are so often faced with ethically impossible decisions.  Help them not only represent the constituents they serve, but You, and Your gospel of peace and redemption.

O Lord, we cry out on behalf of our First Nations brothers and sisters.  Grant healing and resilience and grace.  May we remember that we are all Treaty people.  May we respond with less words, more compassion, more action.

And for Your Church here in Canada, oh that may we act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with You, according to Micah 6:8!  Please help us get over ourselves.  Call out the better ways of Jesus in us.  Help us to choose to represent You well and honestly with truth and grace in equal measure.  May we love each other deeply as a witness to the world that we are Your disciples, and that You, Jesus, were Who You said You were and are.

Keep our land, oh God.  Hold on to us, and don't let go.

It's Monday, Summer's A-Comin'

 

With this being the view from my workstation, who can complain about a Monday morning?  Actually, Mondays are one of my favourite days in any work-week situation (I'm weird like that, but I'm also a morning person, so there's that).  But this....plus my little friends?  I mean, come on.  Inspiration and quiet productivity are just built into the deal.

I've also been able to capture a picture of the other bird who's built a nest under our eves off to the side a little.

The ap on my phone identifies this as a phoebe, further confirmed by the characteristic 'pumping of the tail.'  Oh so much more cautious!  It's taken me a long time to be able to even get any photo at all, let alone one that could identify her. But I think she's figuring out how to take care of her brood with me here on the deck.  Of interest, I'm noticing that I can tell which bird has recently landed nearby just by the sound of their wings.  It's different for the blue jay, jenny wren, and phoebe.  Of course, should the blue heron drop by there's no doubt who's making that falomp-falomp of an entrance!

Of course I have to mention my chipmunk friends as well.  I've counted as many as five on the deck at the same time.  Make that six.  Another one just showed up.  Word's gotten out.

Okay, enough visiting over breakfast.  Time to get at it.  Working from home was never so good.  I've got a satisfying list before me, all fresh and unchecked and waiting.  Later my accompanist (guitar) for the children's story/song on Sunday is coming by for a mini rehearsal.  Should be fun.

And later, yes, it sounds like summer might show up after all.  We have the fans ready, and lots of ice in the freezer.  Of course, it's always a little cooler here by the water, and the famous Georgian Bay breezes are so welcome on the hot days.

Stay cool and delighted everyone.  Hope you have AC if you need it.  Hope you have sweet friends to keep you company.  Hope the week starts off in a way that's all ready for summer!

The Boat that Came Back

 

This will be a simple story of faith in humankind.

Opening weekend at the cottage - this year for us it was a May 22 to 25 extended weekend - has many tasks.  That's why we conscript the strong backs of family members to come along and help make it happen.  

One of the tasks that got done that weekend was carrying our small runabout boat out from the boathouse and onto the dock.  Next step would be to put on the motor and put it in the water, as seen here in a picture from last year.  But we didn't get to it.  No worries.  It was up safely on the black dock and would be fine until we came back to stay in two weeks.

That's what we thought.

After our return, it took us a few days to even notice it was missing.  We're used to seeing the dock empty as well as with a boat parked on top.  And the flurry of opening can be distracting.  So it's understandable.  But that week, after a heavy rain when Ken felt he should go over to bail it out....it wasn't there.

The boat itself isn't any great thing.  It was purchased by Ken's Grandmother in 1955, he thinks, so it's rocking 70 years old.  It's of standard design, well-made, been painted more times than we can remember, and has had the seats replaced a few times too.  Last year we purchased a new motor for this boat, with the hopes that this year we could begin some decent lessons for the younger ones.  So, no great thing, but pretty special to us.

There's an unspoken Cognashene code up here.  Nobody bothers your property.  Call it a throw back to simpler times when decent honest living and the trust that arises from that was a real thing.  But honestly, any reports of stolen items or break and enters are largely unheard of up here.

I will say that we did have an antique cedar canoe get lifted from the old boathouse that year we couldn't put the door on the large front opening properly, and you could see in.  We figured it was too much of a temptation for some eager collector with an apparently underdeveloped conscience.  But other than that, no problem.

We considered whether or not we should notify the police.  We also considered whether it actually just blew off the dock -- no one could remember tying it down -- and floated along the channel somehow.  We did a quick cruise back and forth but didn't see anything.  Then we had to come back to the city, and decided to pick things up when we got back.  

Except when we got back....

...there she was, in all her glory.  Someone had taken the time and the effort not just to bring our boat back to our dock, but to drag it right up onto the rocks and tie it up properly, which is what we should have done in the first place.

So cedar canoes notwithstanding, perhaps there is no throw back.  Maybe it's all still happening now.  Maybe, obviously, common decency and human goodness is still very much a thing.

Of course it is.

And of course we all have a part in making it so.

So a big, big thank you to the kind person who returned out boat.  I'm hoping to spread the word around here to see if we can discover who it was so as to say a proper thank you.  Might even make a big sign and just attach it to the boat, hoping whoever it was drives by and knows how much we appreciate it.

Here's to kids' boating lessons this summer!

Here's to securing your boat properly!

Here's to the basic decency in human hearts that makes the world so much of a better place!

Rationing the Chia Seeds

 

"Teach us to number our [chia seeds] 

so that we may gain a heart of wisdom."

Psalm 90:12 

Standard Cottage Translation

Three things to know for what's to follow.

One is that we are on an island and that means groceries and supplies have to be carefully anticipated.  There's no running out to quickly fetch something.

The second is that, with the price of gas so volatile right now, we have promised ourselves to be extra prudent in how many trips back and forth to the marina we're going to make.  So it's that much more important to think carefully through any shopping list.

The third is that due to some recent necessary dietary changes, I have added chia seeds to my regular intake (emphasis on 'regular').

Truth be told, I had no idea you could add chia seeds to so many things, and that they had such a repertoire of results.  I won't go into all their benefits here; you can check it out with a quick Google search if you're interested.  Let's just say that chia seeds are now a regular item on our grocery list.  Not only are they included in my morning protein smoothie, but they add a fun texture to this chia seed chocolate pudding that is super easy to make and loaded with other good things like yogurt, avocado, banana, turmeric and honey (full recipe on request).  It's now my go-to desert.

We had lots up here, I thought.  But when Ken did a quick (necessary) trip back to KW last weekend, I asked him to stop by Bulk Barn (best bang for your buck on chia seeds) and bring back a bag-full to replenish my stock.  Which he did.  And then, as often happens, they got left behind in the van.  He remembers having to re-sort a bag to make something fit better....and that's it.

Our next scheduled trip off the island isn't until July 2nd or 3rd.  Everything else has been stocked up.  So, because of our determination not to make unnecessary trips back and forth, and because I still do have some chia seeds, and because I don't mind a challenge, I am now into day four of seeing if I can make this work.

It's kind of fun.  You look at something quite differently when you believe it to be scarce.  You measure more carefully, plan more specifically, and relish or at least appreciate every portion dolled out.  It's not the first time I've noticed this up here.  Shampoo, milk, toilet paper, peanuts for the chipmunks...whatever it is, if you're running out, you're just that little bit more mindful. 

Of course the best thing is when you apply your years of cottage wisdom and stock up on everything, like, all the time, which is usually what we do, sure.  But every once in a while you don't catch it, forget to put something on the list, or leave a bag in the van.  At least this time it wasn't anything spoilable.

Okay, confession, but you already caught this, so, for what it's worth.  The original Hebrew text for Psalm 90:12 does not contain the words 'chia seeds.'  It's 'days,' as in days of our life.  And now the chia seeds themselves are but an echo of a much greater thing; the gift that is each moment "we live and move and have our being" (Acts 17:28).

Not for me, but for someone I deeply care about, this is much more real than the threat of running out of a needed grocery item.  Diagnoses with estimated life spans attached to them can really mess with your head, unless you tune your heart.  If you do, if you can, like my friend has been able to, every day becomes a cherished thing, the way it should be for all of us, but just that much more beautifully real for some.  This I have found to be true when facing my own oh-so-much-less-serious-but-with-some-long-painful-nights health issues.  In the middle of the suffering is where cherished things become more astounding.

I am not to the point of counting out my chia seeds one by one, which would be ridiculous.  But I am grateful for these tiny reminders that help me stop and marvel at every good thing that fills --

Wait.  Ken's just come in to tell me something ---

He says he's surprised and somewhat distraught to discover that he has only four days of Coke left!!!  Previously planned departure is eight days out.  He's just announced that, in order to prevent an emergency situation of catastrophic proportions, we're going into town, likely Sunday.

Which means I can fetch my chia seeds.

And thus endeth the lesson.

In the Moments

"If you look at little kids and wild animals,
these are two groups of things that 

whenever I'm with them 

forces me to be in the moment."
Dominic Monaghan

Two slightly unusual and also sweet interactions with critters happened yesterday.  I make no apologies whatsoever for my Disney-princess vibe here, just sayin.'

One was with a chipmunk who literally came and greeted me, seemed excited to see me even, as I finished my paddle around the island and came back to the dock.

Of course I had no peanuts with me, so the encounter ended up being just a friendly hello, and no picture because I really didn't think of it, just being in the moment as I was.  Still, he did stay with me on the dock, up close and personal, and impossibly cheerful, while I tied up and put away my paddle.  Then off he bounded along the rocks on his way to find breakfast on his own.

First time that's ever happened, down on the dock, I mean.

The second interaction was more of a sighting really.

Two brand new jenny wrens left their nest and rested on the deck railing just for a bit before flying off into their grown up lives.

I stopped everything, just to be in this moment with them.  Leaving the nest day?!!!   I believe this deserves a teeny bit of pomp and circumstance!

I had the presence of mind for pictures this time, since every graduation needs some.  These were taken through the window from a respectful distance.  I didn't dare step out onto the deck proper and risk frighting them off to the rocks below before they were actually ready to take flight.

This is unusually unusual in that we have jenny wrens every single year in one or both of the birdhouses that are fixed onto the front and side of the cottage.  Their chirping call is among the first noises of the morning at sunrise.

Every single year I am aware of the nest-building that begins almost as soon as we get here.  Every single year it's obvious when the eggs have hatched because both Mom and Dad, in a very equal kind of parenting partnership, make constant trips with juicy, squirming insects in their beaks.  Shortly after that, every single year, we are treated with the excited signature chirping, as the new hatchlings grow strong enough to be heard, a little louder every day.  

But, every single year up until now, one day it all just stops.  All the activity ends, and the birdhouse is quiet.  Everyone's gone.

I have never seen any of the babies depart.  Until now.

And it was the first time I was ever greeted back from my time in the kayak by a chipmunk on the dock.

So it was a happy day of little critter encounters.  Somewhat unique ones on this day, yes, but actually a feature in some form every day here.  Someone pays a visit and I learn something new, spending the moment, being in the moment with them.  

There.  All sappy and Disney-princess-like, like I said.  

Dominic Monaghan, by the way, is the actor who portrayed Merry in the film adaptation of Lord of the Rings (2001), just so you know.

Wishing you sappy, informative, randomly cute moments to be in today, however they might happen for you.

Patterns

 

Listen, my son (or daughter) to your father's instruction

and do not forsake your mother's teaching.

They are a garland to grace your head

and a chain to adorn your neck.

Proverbs 1:8-9

A saw horse is a handy thing up here, given how much of our own firewood we glean from naturally fallen trees on the property.  Not to mention dock building, and other repairs, and upgrades that require some carpentry.

We've had one or two up here since before I can remember.  Ken says his Dad built them back in the day.  One has fallen apart long ago, and the other was not looking so good either.  So, using left over new lumber from building the bunkie, Ken followed the same basic pattern as his Dad's sawhorse and built a new one.  Not exactly the same, but pretty close, just with new material.

Makes sense to use the same basic pattern.  The old one was sturdy and served the family well for probably close to 80 years now.  The structure and design were obviously solid.  We'll engrave 2026 on this one and see how long it lasts.  Or at least, our grandchildren will.

It strikes me that this is basically what parenting is.  Providing enduring instruction and structure that can be replicated; patterns for living that the next generation can build on.

I will say here what can't be a surprise because it's just everyone's truth; our parents weren't perfect.  And while the sawhorse lasted and is worthy of repeating, not everything, on both sides of our family, was.  But there were enough good things passed along to make me take another look at Proverbs 1:8-9 and be grateful for what's been handed down to me...and also, to be soberly reminded.

The intent of the entire book of Proverbs is a common ancient near eastern genre of writing where a parent, most usually a father, collects his life's lessons in a volume to pass along to his children, usually the first born son.  (In that, it is good to note that the author's mention of references to the child's mother was quiet 'inclusive' for its day.)  So the intended audience, then, is the next generation.  

But the implied corollary to this, and here's where I am soberly reminded, is that the father and mother must have something of worth to pass along.  A sawhorse pattern, if you will, that's going to be solid and long lasting.

Believe me, yes, I know, there's enough parental guilt flying about the cosmos at any given time to crush us all.  I do not intend to add any more.  And there's so many ideas and opinions and models of and about raising children to flabbergast the best intentioned among us.  I will not attempt to push for my own.  

What comes to me these days, instead, as I approach 70, and as I realize more and more that my opportunity to build any kind of legacy to leave anyone grows short, is how essential it is to first be teachable myself if I assume to teach; to be grounded in a secure sense of myself, if I'm going to try to come alongside another in the process of their own identity formation.  

I wonder, then, if the best gift I can offer my children and grandchildren, and anyone else I may have any instructive role whatsoever, is ongoing and life-giving practices of spiritual formation that will aid me as I seek to cooperate with the work of God's Spirit within me.  The inner work that will ground me.

What patterns do I want to leave behind?

At my age, these would be patterns already evident in my own becoming.

I had better make sure they are worth handing down.

Of course, just like Ken used new wood to build the new sawhorse, and also adjusted the structure slightly, my kids and grandkids will find their own building materials, and remake things that best help to forge their own lives.  Just like Ken's new sawhorse, while bearing some resemblance, looks very different than his Father's, so the next generation will construct new ways of thinking and loving and living out what God directs them to do and be.  I celebrate that.

But there's a pattern.

Something to build on.

Something worthy of replication.

At least, I hope so.

The Sound of Wordless Worship

 But ask the animals, and they will teach you, 

or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you; 

or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, 

or let the fish in the sea inform you. 

Which of all these does not know 

that the hand of the Lord has done this? 

Job 12:7-10

Sunday on my own.

A seldom-solitude breathes worship into all the little spaces,

making the day 'more' somehow,

right from the get go.

I am eager to learn.

Early on the deck,

then out on the water.

Otters, a deer, several ducks, a large turtle.

They all know.

So do the blue jays,

but let's face it.

They're here mostly for the peanuts.

I say nothing.

I sing nothing.

I am here to learn.

Teach me,

inform me.

I want to know what you know.

A wordless worship in sounds magnificent;

the language of those who know.

One Man's Trash, Another Man's Glory

 

Here's an interesting discovery.  An old bottle left on the ground out back of the cottage has turned itself into a very pretty little terrarium.

Ken's family has owned the place for over a hundred years, so it's not uncommon for us to find antique glassware here and there, mostly inside on the shelves of forgotten corners in the older buildings.  But sometimes, alas, scattered in various places on the property.  

This, however, is a first.  

I couldn't help but think this is what it's like when human carelessness, disrespect or negligence is somehow transformed into life and growth and joy.  It's a defiant thing, all growing and green regardless.

Paul wrote:

We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance, perseverance character, and character hope."  Romans 5:3-5

Here's to the finding of forgotten things full of hope.

The Treasury of a Legit Rainy Day

 The LORD will open to you His good treasury,

the heavens, to give to your land in its seasons,

and to bless all the work of your hands.

Deuteronomy 28:12

The whole time we've been up here the weather has been a tad off and on.  June has not yet produced a long string of summery days, although we've had the fans going the odd day here and there.  And also, no string of rainy days exactly, either.   We've had rainy periods, afternoons or mornings.  And then some really cold mornings as low as 9 C.  But much of it has been 'variable.'  Variable clouds, variable showers, variable temps, cloudy with sunny breaks, just here and there.

Today I want to call this a legit rainy day.  And while there's still periods where it stops for a while, and the next round of showers seem to be just warming up, mostly there's been that lovely cottage rainy day vibe.

There's something about hearing it on the roof first thing in the morning that sends the universal signal of approval to sleep in just a little bit.  And now the fire's on, not because it's all that cold, but just because it chases away that damp feeling, and no one is complaining about the added level of cozy.

Drops on the windows.  Little puddles on the deck.  You can see the rain on the water. Everything hushed under the sound of it.  

My otter friends don't mind the rain.  They dropped by, the three of them, for the first time, to say hello and sample our reeds, and fish a little between our dock and the shoal.

Abby was able to catch them in a rare moment when all were surfaced and looking at her in the same direction.  I call them Larry, Curly and Moe.  And unless someone can tell me that otters usually travel in packs of three, I'm going to claim that these are the same three silly dudes that have visited before, and even accompanied me part way around the island some mornings in the kayak.

The blue jays don't mind the rain either, apparently.  They arrive on the deck railing right in front of where I'm sitting, wondering if there are any peanuts to be had today.  But no.  As cute as you are, I'm staying indoors today.  Try again tomorrow.  

I'm glad for the rain for the blueberries' sake.

So much potential, and a few patches that are 'new' this year, in that there are green berries on plants that haven't been fruit-bearing before.  Looking good so far, but it can all change depending on the rain between now and mid July.  So bring it on.

A day to bake cookies.  That's just a given.  No pictures yet because that's what I'll be doing next.  After this.  Because the morning was spent in quiet concentrated work at the computer, looking out at it all, enjoying the cozy work vibe happening here on a rainy day.

I am receiving the blessing of Deuteronomy 28:12 this day.  Just...receiving it.

And spreading it out to you, wherever you are, raining or not.

Everywhere

 

He has made everything beautiful in its time.

He has also set eternity in the human heart;

yet no one can fathom what God has done

from beginning to end.

Ecclesiastes 3:11

We're back in the city over the weekend due to the fact that, while we may be ready for cottage life, city life isn't ready to release us just yet.  Important events and meetings in ways important to be present are reason enough to stop back in and check out what's going on in Kitchener.

It's a beauty day already with a few friends joining me on the walk this morning.

And fresh blooms along the way as well, basking in the morning light in a way that captures them more vividly, even in the softness of the rising sun.

I'm glad for a few little surprises in our own garden too.

Things that weren't in bloom just six days ago when we left.

My files are loaded with pictures just like these, but I can't seem to help myself.  

The contrast between being in the city and being on an island is striking, and yesterday's sunrise rainbow at the cottage, breath-taking.  Honestly, any pictures I took did not do justice to the magnificence of just standing small and humbled under that wide, bold sky.

But I find, as I go back and forth, that there's beauty everywhere if you're just looking for it.

Mind you, we have these amazing trails here close to the house, and a little culvert of running water (look away from the graffiti), and we aren't exactly downtown in a busy metropolis (mind the hydro towers), but still.  

And, for me at least, it is a connection with the Creator, a defining of the Divine.  And it's everywhere.

Saturday!  We'll be stocking up on groceries and running some errands, and packing that list of things I realized we still needed at the cottage when we were there last week.  That sort of thing.

Hope it's a good one for you.  Hope there's beauty around you to notice.