::The Log Farm::

nother trip to the sugar bush. This time we gave The Log Cabin a try. Aidan tells me this is an NCC property--a heritage site. It is very rustic and charming. I found the lack of polish and structure very appealing. Everything is self-guided. We wandered over to the Pancake House first and filled our bellies. The hash-browns were some of the best I have ever had. Then we hiked to the farm where there were animals wandering here and there, and museum-like displays of pioneering life. There was no staff about at all. It was a free-for-all.

The trail to the Sugar bush was rough. No stroller could possibly have made it the whole way. We set off with back-carriers and arm power. I am so glad Aidan was with me. He had two toddlers in his arms at one point. When we finally arrived we felt it was worth the muddy trek. There were stations that told the tale of how syrup is made. The kids were given buckets and sent to collect sap themselves. This was new to me. Even I found myself eagerly running to peek under each tin lid to see how much clear sap was pooling inside. All buckets were dumped directly into the tub to begin the boiling-off process. The sugar taffy at the end was a big hit, of course.

The walk back from the sugar bush was eventful. A few kids landed in the creek. But we made it. We enjoyed ourselves a lot but are not sure it is an affordable outing for a family of seven. This year we had two children under 3. Someday we would easily be asked to pay $90 for the family to eat and tour. So I would recommend a trip to The Log Farm to smaller families but would suggest bigger groups head out of the city.

::Go Green::

::Go Green::

We have placed an order for:
2 Eastern RedBuds
Ivory Silk Lilac

This is a great program run by the Mississippi Mills Chamber of Commerce as a fund-raiser.
The prices are great. If you live in the area and are landscaping this spring, check it out. Deadlines are next Tuesday, so hurry!

The best time to
plant a tree was
20 years ago.
The second best time is
NOW!

::Balloon Dances & Gold Medals::

hrew a party for two little boys. . .

{::Chocolate Banana Cakes with Coconut Creamcheese icing::}

{::New Bowling Set::}

{::Treasure hunt for. . . ::}{::Floating Balloons and other Treats::}{::The balloons were well-loved::}

{::Chocolate Brownie Cakes topped with Strawberries::}

{::A present for me!::}

{::Tired & baffled little girl::}

{::And one FANTASTIC hockey game::}

::Magic Touch::

They fall asleep at my touch!
What does that say about me?
Magic touch? Or incredibly dull?

::Well spent::

We have a brand new four-year old in the house. His requests for the day: Cocoa Puffs for breakfast, Kraft Dinner and hot dogs for dinner, and chocolate cake and ice cream for dessert. Mostly--ew! But he calls the shots today.

He and Daddy went to McDonald's for their date. And I found a really neat gift made by Doug & Melissa. When asked what he wanted this year Gabriel replied, "Tools. . . And cars." He ended up with both: A fire engine that he could assemble.

We tried to rise above our assortments of household illnesses to provide some pep to the day, but it was hard. So many kinds of sick are in this house at the moment.

We did our best and our little boy fell asleep well spent.

::Dollhouse::

I always wanted one of these. My uncle built my cousins a big one and they used to collect miniatures of everything. Lamps and cutlery and candle holders. It was so CUTE! But unless one has the determination and skill my uncle had beautiful dollhouses are very hard to come by affordably.

Last week Mom and Dad Van Dyk came by for dinner and brought this along with them. My aunt Corrie had made it herself years ago and sold it at an auction. The owner's grandchildren had long grown and the house was no longer being loved. So she asked who might give it a good home.

It has been swarmed by little hands ever since.

::Black Cat Bistro & Basia Bulat::

Wow, that's a lot of 'B's. . .
Aidan and I spent a rare evening out this Saturday enjoying great food, music and company. We'll call it our Valentine's date, although it was really a happy scheduling coincidence.

I have a not-so-secret list of restaurants I want to try in the city. We have eaten at very few of them but we can now cross one off the list. The Black Cat has evolved over its many years in Ottawa. But we were pleased with its current state of being. Josh and Karin joined us for a truly delicious meal there. There were tastes that were very new to me: golden caviar, caper berry, creme brule. And the atmosphere was lovely. I wanted to take the leaf-silhouette pendant lights home with me.

The music was a wonderful surprise. We attended this concert never having heard the band before. But her beautiful voice and amazing skills on a large variety of instruments won us over. It was especially infectious when the audience, deeply in tune with her music, began simultaneously clapping out quick beats to certain songs. Clearly they knew her music well. There is nothing quite like great live music pulsing through you.

A fabulous evening of the senses. Although the chill of the wind I could
have done without.

::All about me::

I woke up to that feeling. I felt unhinged before I even opened my eyes. I muttered prayers on the way to church: may it lift? may it lift? But it didn't. And I was in no shape to meet God part way and keep myself in check.

The sermon rolled over me. Such a hauntingly sad message about the precious children of the church family and the damage that can be done through neglect and lack of love.

I became lost inside myself. Where's the love? Jesus urges, rebukes, commands that we kneel down and peer into each pair of bright eyes and LOOK. SEE. TOUCH. He gives us a picture of himself with children nestled into his arms, but do we put ourselves in his place? Such an act is borne out of some scrap of interest, let alone deep love. But who cares enough? Who sees past the naughtiness? Or the family name? Or the manners? Who looks past it all to see a child? Just a child.

Without being able to sift through the finer points of my anger, I knew angry was what I was. So angry that even a child, who hasn't learned guile or even true unkindness, remains beneath the love of some. What hope is there then for me to earn the love of those who haven't yet given it? I will never ever reach such an elevated state of sanctification that I can again attain the pure, inoffensive, beguiling lovability of a child. I can't fight for this love! I can't win it!

***

Now, on this side of yesterday, I can see that I woke up lost in ME. And stayed lost in ME. The anger has dissipated, and it's place is fresh resolve to love where it may never be returned.

::Rooky::

Last night I had my first snowboarding lesson. Kim was a very patient instructor. She actually stayed perched with me part way up the bunny hill all night. We just hiked up and down and talked for 20 minutes between runs. We figure that, in future, we should just find someone with gear in my size and practice on a local snow hill. Cheaper.

It turns out I'm "goofy." Most people lead with their left foot and carve with their right, but when asked which foot I would lead with if I were to run and slide across some ice I had to say right. And sure enough, that's the way I instinctively wanted to go down the hill. I feel special--in a left-handed writer kinda' way. The other odd discovery is that I needed to strap on my board, then flip over onto my stomach and start backwards. It's all about comfort. And since Kim has never taught anyone to do this before she just went with it, good-naturedly.

After we were chilled to the bone, we came back here for some hot chocolate. And the best part of all was my morning discovery that I didn't ache all over. Maybe I wasn't working hard enough?

::Five Hearts::

We decided to do Valentines a little differently this year. Caelah really wanted to wear pink, red and white. And she really wanted to be photographed. She also wanted to dress her little brothers. So, I just ran with it. This picture is hilarious. You should see how many faces each kid pulled in the bunch of photos I took. This one has it's quirks, but is pretty cute. We printed a bunch off and popped them into little envelopes with a chocolate hearts. We over printed, so everyone we know is getting one. . .
Early Happy Valentine's Day!

::Free::

sed. But FREE! I can't extol the merits of UsedOttawa.com enough. Aidan and I have been looking for a sofa bed for awhile, but didn't want to buy new. So we began to search online. One day, these couches popped up. The ad said "FREE to the first person who gets in touch." That was me!
Fabulous quality, ridiculously comfy and entirely my style.
We have been finishing our home piece by piece using other people's things. I highly recommend it.

::Top Chef::

idan and I are great lovers of food. We don't have the resources for expensive ingredients, but we have endeavoured to learn how to turn humbler ingredients into great tasting fare. We cook from as many ethnic flavours as we can and have so few aversions that we can sit down around any table in any home and enjoy an unfamiliar meal. I hope our kids cultivate an appreciation for a broad spectrum of tastes. It is a gift.

We are not alone in this. We have several food-loving friends who share the passion, two of whom joined us Saturday evening. We had decided to chose a few recipes from a show we all enjoy, so we could taste some of the dishes that made us hungry when we watched them come together on screen. The results were better than good. We paced ourselves, cooking and eating on and off from 6:00 to 10:00. Swiss cheese pasta with shrimp. Pork chops with tomato, olives and feta. Seared fennel-rubbed steak. Rustic apple tarts. All with flourishes I can't describe to you because they require french accents my keyboard won't produce. . . We never got to the last dish, but didn't miss it. We were stuffed.

It was a good evening, as it always is when you combine cooking and good company.

::Teething::

ny item that should happen to cross paths with her
tiny fingers befalls a
gummy, gooey fate.

::Levi David::

new life: First brother. Second son. Second nephew. Fifth grandson. He is so many things to so many people. Above all, he is loved.

::Beyond the boundaries::

hile I cannot be as candid as comes naturally to me, I want to offer a more sober reflection on the mess we found ourselves in this past weekend. And while I will be more sober still in a month, three months, a year-- already, there are lessons that have been learned. There is an opportunity to glorify Jesus even now, just on the other side of a little bit of suffering.

Here is what I have been awakening to:
While the teachings of Jesus are extremely difficult to live out in one sense--the sense that they are completely counter-instinctual-- they are also beautifully straight forward. Simple, even. My roiling emotion demands a complicated, drawn-out response to the hurt I have experienced. But Jesus demands only this: be filled to bursting with the insults and judgments of others. Let them pour into you until you are topped up. Take and take and take. And then?
Love.

Now, this is so alien to the human experience it's almost laughable. Part of us gets the part where we brace ourselves and take the hits. We learn this lesson early on in our Christian ABC's. Morality lesson #1: Revenge is bad. But the love part? I think we convince ourselves that just martyring ourselves--taking the abuse in silence and then ploughing on-- is love. That's not love. Love in active. It washes over bad deeds, seeking to bless the aggriever. It does not barricade against them. Love is, in fact, the only way to move beyond the hurt.

Unpacking this a little:
Say the teaching was a little more ambiguous. Say there was an allowance for us to settle into a neutral state with regards to the ones that hurt us. Now, I am the queen of the neutral zone. I get wounded by someone, and like a dog who gets zapped during obedience training, I learn to avoid the source of pain. I just don't go there. I let my eyes glide past certain people, and the smiles I offer them never reach my eyes. In this way, I don't have to "give the other cheek." If I stay far enough away, my cheek will never be within slapping distance.

However, there are no such allowances. We are left with many, many, verses in Scripture that tell us to, not only take the hurt without retaliation, but to return it with love. What does that mean? Without the specifics, I can share what this will look like in my life over the next few weeks-- should I walk in obedience to the lessons I am learning. It will be me walking with my head up into a VERY uncomfortable setting. And I will do so again, and again and again. Furthermore, I will not slip into anonymity. I will carry on with the work I have been doing, and I will pray myself into doing so cheerfully. Further still, I will be pushing against the boundaries of my own personal judgments, seeking to extend a hand where my hand has never been extended. Seeking to know and understand those who are different than me. Seeking to love their hearts as Christ does. The same Jesus that loves me, loves them fiercely and I am duty-bound to seek out the hearts he loves so tenderly.

Christendom is blessed beyond measure with the perfect example of love. We know a blameless man who took physical lashings from hate-filled hands, and yet, begged for those hands to be redeemed. Though our own trials will never compare, the example stands for eternity. It is meant to be mimicked. Had God taken our abuses towards him and responded without love, we would be standing here now without a Saviour and without a hope. Love is our life-source.

Because I am weak, I will forget. In moments of weakness I will recall the hurt and mull it over and build up resentments, but I can only live without peace and joy for so long. . . I will go running back to the way of excellence. It is a better place to dwell. It feels like home there.

Children of Light
Ephesians 4

²⁰You, however, did not come to know Christ that way. ²¹Surely you heard of him and were taught in him in accordance with the truth that is in Jesus. ²²You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; ²³to be made new in the attitude of your minds; ²⁴and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.

::8 Years::

I will always adore these roses. Our wedding roses. Eight years ago.

::Acceptance::

The one thing he requires of us in response to deep waters is acceptance. This acceptance is not passivism, quietism, fatalism, or resignation. Peace, joy and faith will not be found in forgetting, and they will not be found in busyness or aloofness or the submission of defeat. They will not be found in the "unfairness" of it all. . . A quiet heart is content with what God gives. It is enough. All is grace.

~Elisabeth Elliot Be till My Soul~

Rejected.

Waves of sadness rolling outward from my heart. Tears breaking through the barriers I have tried to build.
Embarrassment.
Inadequacy.
Confusion.
Anger.
Tempest of emotions. Frenetic dialogue in my skull; Not good enough. Never will be. What will people think?--stop it. Child of God. Loved by Him. Good is meant for us. What is the good? What does it look like? Where will we find it?
Soon.
Please?

We are in a valley. It is cold and gray here. We'll catch the chill if we stay.

But we can't stay. This place was never meant for us. Across the plains of grief comes a call that cannot be resisted. We must obey.

We're here now. Perched. Up on the rim, looking down at the bowl of the valley. Teeter. Totter. Teeter. Totter. Tempted to free fall back into the chill. The easy way is down in the depths. Simple submission to our humanity--bitterness, self-pity, withdrawal. . . Comes naturally. Feels instinctual.

But our feet are meant for different soil. A path is open to us that is infinitely harder, yet infinitely more beautiful. We have no choice but to take it. There is a coil of steal rope that has anchored us to this path. It can't be broken. Or untied. It pulls us. Pulls. Pulls.

We follow.

Harder: Denied the right to wallow. Guaranteed no protection--not from anything that will make us more like the Son. Not from anything that can be used to refine and perfect. Locked in a battle against a weaker self that longs to be exalted.

More beautiful: Mingled tears of compassion. Warmth. Arms braced in support. Love.
Growth. A certainty of good things unseen solidifying in our humbled souls.

Acceptance.

Lamentation 3

²¹ Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:

²² Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.

²³ They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.

²⁴ I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him."

²⁵ The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him;

²⁶ it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the LORD.

²⁷ It is good for a man to bear the yoke
while he is young.

²⁸ Let him sit alone in silence,
for the LORD has laid it on him.

²⁹ Let him bury his face in the dust—
there may yet be hope.

³⁰ Let him offer his cheek to one who would strike him,
and let him be filled with disgrace.

³¹ For men are not cast off
by the Lord forever.

³² Though he brings grief, he will show compassion,
so great is his unfailing love.

³³ For he does not willingly bring affliction
or grief to the children of men.

***

⁴⁰ Let us examine our ways and test them,
and let us return to the LORD.

::Pray::

{::BigPicture::}

::Ebbs & Flows::

{::Annorah napping on me. I will miss these days::}

January. Fresh new year. The pace has dropped and all is quiet. Well, apart from the hungry squeaks of my precious 5 month old, and other natural and necessary disruptions. I am back to packing lunches and planning out dinner menus. I am, personally, determined to shed baby weight and am bent to the task--jogging and eating carefully. I am striving to learn more about this Christian life, and what are the most excellent ways. Asking big questions. Trying to grapple with the answers I am finding. Looking back at last year, I realize that now, more than ever, I am at home. There used to be weeks where the kids and I would spent every day away- for restlessness. No more. I am so content here. That is a timely and helpful development, as this is where I am needed most.

My days have been governed by the ebbs and flows of child and house care. Along with the ebbs and flows of spirit and emotion. There are days when I am almost dancing with joy. My tasks are easy and rewarding. I have been disciplined in my study of the Word and am blessed with the quickening of spirit that results. And I strive to cling to the high. However, years of this have given me an unwelcome expectation of loss. I will inevitably ride off the rails. I will wake up in a foul mood and be unable to shake it--betrayed by the endorphins than loved me then left me. I will not pick up my Bible. I will not bow my heart to pray. I will try and grimly make my way alone.

But those same years of experience have gifted me with the knowledge that all will flow forward once more into renewal and re-invigoration. New hope. Fresh determination. Growth. Wisdom.
This is a promise I can attest to. The low days are never long. And the high days are things of beauty, unequaled.

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.

2 Corinthians 4:16

::Getting organized::

Next room on the list: Mudroom.
It's a new year, and after the clutter of many hosted parties--hundreds of soggy boots & mounds of moist coats-- and the promise of many more to come, I would love to get a bit more organized. Our mudroom is the first room you see when you walk into our home so I want it to be, both functional, and nice to look at. We have planned and measured everything out. This week Aidan will go and pick up materials.

Yay!


As always, I will post more pictures once there is something built.