When You're Not Sure a Volunteer is Working Out

 

This sounds like it's going to a post about ministry life or working for a non-profit.  But right now I'm talking about corn.

Volunteer corn, to be precise, which is a real thing for farmers, apparently.  On a farm, it's that corn that grows from a stray seed that lasted all winter and is now growing in the same field alongside a different crop.  Farmers don't like this.

My volunteer corn is growing in my front garden, an accidental contribution from the birdseed mix I've been using since the spring.  Two or three healthy-looking stalks have decided they'll offer their presence alongside the flowers in the little bed I planted in May.

Unlike the farmers, I'm not sure if I'm liking this.  Maybe I am?

On the one hand, this will grow very tall, is not placed in any pleasing symmetry, and will certainly draw nutrients away from the plants around it.

On the other hand, if I leave it alone, I can determine whether or not I actually do want some taller decorative grass and/or bushes in this space (a consideration in some of my original plans), and I will have some home grown decorations come fall.  Bonus!

I am still deciding.

Here's how it looks with the rest of the flowers.  Mind the mess around the edges.  I'm still doing some heavy duty weeding since we've been away for quite a while.

You can see there are three other smaller stalks doing a thing.  If anyone wants to offer their thoughts, I'm all ears (see what I did there?).

I do not for a minute think I'll get any actual cob from this, not for eating anyways.  It's the kind of corn they throw into a bird seed mix, not the kind that is tenderly raised for our autumn tables alongside the butter.  Still, it might be fun to find out?

Of course, back to the fact that my post title could indeed be an article about serving with human volunteers...

This too can be a problem.  In any environment, for any cause, volunteers are of incalculable worth.  Kudos and thanks and all manner of glad wonderment go to those who do not seek financial remuneration for all that astounding work that gets done in all sorts of sectors.

And.  There are those times when a volunteer seems to be out of place.  Could even be doing more damage than good.  Personality, or lack of experience, or just not a good fit, or unresolved personal issues can hinder the work, negatively affect the culture of the place, and even harm the reputation of a church or organization.  What then?

Pastor Lory Beth Huffman submitted a helpful article to Lewis Center for Church Leadership with a very similar title to this post (which, as 'corny' at it seems, I came up with before searching her out, honest), "When Volunteers Aren't Working Out".  I appreciate her insights, and leave it to you to check her out if you need to.

From my own experience of being a volunteer and supervising volunteers over several decades, I would perhaps add or emphasize two points only.

1.  Make sure volunteers are treated with respect and thanks, every chance you get.

This starts with clear expectations laid out, as much advance notice as you can on things, lots of clear communication, and proper training.  And pour out the praise when folks get it right.

2.  Be a volunteer that adds to the cause in every way you possibly can.

Show up on time.  Be faithful to commitments.  Bring positive energy and a Christ-likeness to even the most menial of tasks.  Work with your teammates as if they matter.  Say yes to opportunities that stretch you.

Basic stuff, I know.  Mostly, when I think of volunteers, I am just in awe of the outlandish generosity of the folks I've had the privilege to serve with.

As for my corn?  I will keep you posted.  We're not here for enough days to see any significant growth in the stalks before returning to the cottage.  But come September...if I let it stay, which I'm leaning towards right now...I'll post more pictures, just for fun.

It was a good day yesterday, the first back in the city for a bit.  Incredible weather.  And the holiday Monday was a like a little buffer before the rest of the week pans out in all its joyful-tasks glory.

Stay well, friends.

There's still a lot of summer left.

Rainy Worship

 

Psalm 65:9

You care for the land and water it;

You enrich it abundantly.

What better picture to post on this consistently-gentle-rained-out Sunday morning, than the asters who are, at this moment, singing profound gratitudes.

The rain has cancelled our outdoor service here at Cognashene Community Church, but it hasn't stopped the praises.  A perfect day to hunker down inside and breathe in the holy quiet of it.  I was scheduled to lead the service, but even at that, I'm glad for this.

Things have been so droopy outside our back window in that one little patch of underbrush that seems to suffer most in a dry spell.  Soak it in forest friends.  Take long unhurried draughts.  

And then there's Ken and I.

We will venture out in this quiet, steady rain, heading back to the city for almost two weeks while long time family friends rent this space, an arrangement going back two generations now, when Ken's folks owned this property.  

We're prepared.  It's not our first ride in the rain.  Just a fact of island life.  Everything has been packed and waterproofed accordingly.  And Ken even put the cover over the bow of the boat yesterday when it was still dry, so we will tuck everything under there for the ride.  And today it's raining but no wind to speak of.  

Back in the city...that's a thing.  There's enough to do to in prep for September's trip that can't be accomplished here in seclusion.  And people to see!  And next week, we'll be worshipping at Highview, and oh, what big gulp that will be for my soul! 

So yay for rainy Sundays when we need it so badly!

Yay for the opportunity to share the love of this place with long time family friends.

Yay for the incredible blessing of being able to spend the summer both here and there (there's no place like homes)!

Whatever your soul needs this morning, hope you are soaking it up! 

A Change In Pace

 [May] The LORD turn His face toward you

and grant you peace.

Numbers 6:26

Yes, I do realize that, in offering this blessing, today's picture is almost identical to the one I posted just a few days ago.  And actually, if I look at them, it's at about the same spot along my route around the island.

However, since it fits so well with my mood this morning, and also this last phrase of the Priestly Blessing found in Numbers 6, I'll gift it to you just the same.

I'm out on the deck this morning with barely a breeze.  There's a construction project involving stone saws going on across the little bay from us, and Ken is setting up our wood chipper as I write, so I can't really say it's all that quiet right now.  But this morning's paddle was on flat water for the entire way around.  Not another human sound but that of my own paddle pushing back the water in a rhythmic dip and soft swish.

It was a good way to start this particular Friday.

We will return to KW Sunday afternoon to celebrate Timothy's birthday, and then begin a little stint stationed in our city home.  Long time family friends have had an over 50 year tradition of visiting as renters in the place we now own but originally belonged to Ken's grandfather.  They will renew their love of this space over the next twelve days or so.  And, because there is still some outdoor work in progress for our little house on Sandra, and because it's good to take care of banking and errands and such, we'll spend that time there.

I'm okay with this.  Of course summer is short, and I am greedy for all the time I can have by the water as I can get.  But it will be good to get at some of the thrifting and other gathering I need to make sure gets done before I leave for Thailand in September.  Plus, I'm preaching at Highview on August 9, so there's that.  How beautiful it will be to worship together with my peeps!

I'm okay with this, but I am bracing myself a little for the dramatic change of pace.  Mostly, I'm talking about cars and driving and having to go places.  When you live on an island you get to indulge in that unique gift of having no where to go most of the time.  At least, it's a gift to me.  Some more extraverted folks may not embrace that part of our reality here.  But I crave it, soak it up, try to store up as much of it as a I can while I'm here.

I do intend to try to catch some morning sun when I get back.  Like this.

There's something about the breaking of a day to set you up for it in calming, reorienting ways.  I think it's because the sun reminds me of the face of God, too brilliant to fully receive, yet so graciously 'turned towards me' in ways I'll notice all the rest of the day, if I pay attention.

Happy Friday of the long weekend to you, wherever you or however your day has started.

Hope you can catch glimpses of the face of God turned towards you favourably.

And may He grant you peace.

Twenty Times So Far: Embracing and Balancing a Driven Personality

 

Twenty times around the island so far this summer.

My all time high was 36, but that was 2023 when the weather was in my favour, and we weren't moving and I didn't have my appendix out.

Truth be told, there's something in me every season that wants to beat that highest number; to push myself to achieve it.  If I make it to 37 this year, I'll try to do 38 next.  Like that.  It's that same part of me that, in its best form has helped me achieve anything I can count as an accomplishment over my whole life; any commitment I've had to see through; any project I've taken on.   A drive, a desire to do better, a passion to become all that God has called me to be.  This is good.

But it's also a part of me that can easily get short-circuited and end up being stuck on overdrive.  When that has happened in the past, it's caused me no end of angst, self-loathing, and no end of whacked out cortisol saturation, harming body, mind and soul in ways truly dangerous.

I'm sixty-nine, and by now I have had decades of practice balancing the two sides of this part of me.  I now see the tendency towards perfectionism as more of a gift than a curse, and have learned to celebrate who I am, and offer it back to God to use as He directs.

So for what it's worth, I'd like to offer a few what I hope to be helpful thoughts.

If they resonate, great.  If not, just pass it by. 

The desire to be perfect isn't in itself a defect.

It was such a gift when I sat with a therapist who reminded me that a deep desire to get things "just right" was a reflection of being made in the image of a perfect God.  This image-bearing component of the human soul can be seen in our capacity to love, forgive, and create.  And it is sometimes felt by some of us as a deep love for perfection.  Put the tips of your fingers together in a cluster up to you lips, then make a mmwaaa-kissing sound and open up your hand at the same time.  Like that.  We sure are glad when the people who build our homes, put together our computers, or do our surgeries are committed to that kind of perfection.  So if it's a part of who you are, yay!

Part of self-love is loving that you're human.

Embracing our humanity, in all it's beauty and potential, means also embracing our limitations and brokenness with the same grace and compassion we expect ourselves to show others. Nobody's perfect.  We all mess up.  We only have the capacities we have.  God knows we are 'but dust' (Psalm 103:14-16), a clear reference to the creation story and how humans came into being (Genesis 2:7).  Even Jesus - God with human skin on - needed to eat, sleep and protect time to be alone.  He understands.  It's okay if you don't get it perfect every time.  Honest.

Observing Sabbath rhythms is even more vital for those with more driven personalities.

Because God knows we're only human He built resting right into obedience.  As in, one of the Ten Commandments.  The humility of letting go of the need to produce, taking our hands off the wheel at regular, disciplined intervals, whatever that looks like in your life and schedule, allows us the essential space to be a human being, instead of a human doing; to meet with God in ways intimate and life-giving.

Don't be stupid.

The desire for perfection can often enough cause us to leave our executive functioning out of the conversation.  Like the one day late in a season when I tried to get around the island just one more time to achieve whatever goal it was that year, even though it looked a little windy even on our protected bay.  By the time I was out around the point exposed to the open water, I really had to pull and pull hard to keep myself off the rocks and get myself back to safer waters.  Not smart.  When we put our own well-being at stake, that's not honouring to anyone.  It's just stupid.  There's a way to be driven and be smart about it.  Think it through.  Listen to others around you who love you, until you can learn to listen to the voice of Jesus telling you to sit down and be still.  

At this point, some might be making a face that says, "Well, duh."  Sounds pretty obvious to non-driven personalities who have lesser temptation to try to beat last year's times around the island in the kayak.   God bless your heart.   

For those of you who do, who find yourselves setting big goals, and making strategic plans, writing out the lists, and not even remembering necessarily that it's summertime in Ontario right now...

Hope you get to lay low for a bit.  

Rest and enjoy the slower pace of life.

Don't stop being you, though.

The world needs what you bring to us, all robust and energetic and accomplished.

Monday morning folks!!

Hope the week brings good things, no matter what your particular goals might be!

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!