"enjoying" the last days of fall.

self-portraits.

Random. I know.

AHHHHHHH.

Okay, I don't even know what to say about this...except....AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

It's screening in Toronto in 2 days...and I SOOO wish I was there. DONC!!!!!!!!!!

Breathe in. Breathe out.

The most beautiful support appointment, thus far.

"Lydia! Come on in. Come over on this side. It's better for her if you sit on this side."

"Dear, I need you to put my specs on please."
"And I need some ventolin."
"And can you raise my bed please?"
"Sip of water."

This was how today's support appointment began. I hadn't seen my former violin teacher and his wife for a good seven years. They had a new dog. I didn't pull out my binder. His wife would have had to sit up, and she was having trouble breathing today. It is her birthday. We sat. Even if I had wanted to pull out the binder, they didn't give me a chance. Question after question. She kept telling me how excited she was that I was doing this.

My violin teacher went to the kitchen to write out the cheques. While he did that, she laid in her bed, covered with blankets. We chatted. We talked about the latest paintings that she had done. By mouth. We talked about the huge need there is in Montreal. We talked about her conversion to Christianity, some 27 years ago. We talked about how she desperately wants to share the gospel with her home care nurse. She asked me how to do this. We talked about how good God is. And she praised Him for miraculous things in her life. We talked how she is so grateful that He spared her life. That He has preserved her.

I couldn't help think about how beautiful her words were. How the way she lives her life is so telling of the effects of the gospel, that without even saying a word, she is more eloquent in its delivery than I will ever be.

My violin teacher's wife is a quadriplegic. Over 20 years ago, a bus skidded on black ice and she was thrown from the bus window. It took them three-quarters of an hour to chip her out of her ice. She has lived much of her life only able to move her head.

Her husband, my former violin teacher, has spent all these years, faithfully taking care of her. He puts on her glasses, dyes her hair, turns her over so that she does not get bedsores. The way he lives his life is so telling of the effects of the gospel, that without even saying a word, he is more eloquent in its delivery than I will ever be.

As he returns from the kitchen, she and I are agreeing that God is good. And I can't help but feel that she knows, so much more that I, how good He really is. Despite everything that has gone on in her life, she STILL believes.

"Dear, can you give me a dose of Salbutamol? I'm having trouble breathing today."

It is the end of our meeting. He adjusts the mask. "Straps over my ears please, dear."

I say goodbye.

I walk to the door with my violin teacher. He gives me a hug.

As I leave, I can't help but feel that they both love the Lord in a way that I never have. It takes something beautiful and great to faithfully, day in and day out, take care of a wife who cannot move anything but her head. And it takes something beautiful and great to faithfully declare that the Lord is good and to be content when life doesn't give us what we expect.

As I got into my car, I realized that I want to know God the way that they do. I want the hope that the Gospel brings to be radiated from my whole being, so that without even saying a word, the eloquence of the Gospel will ALREADY be permeating from my pores.

I haven't wanted to be in Edmonton. I haven't been content with the situation He has placed me in. But something like today reminds me that when the day is over, He is all that matters. And when we understand this, despite being quadriplegic, or something more trivial, like being stuck in a place where I didn't want to be in the first place, we are able to say, "It is well with my soul."

Hot 10, because it's the 10th day of the 10th month...and because it's my blog and i can blog if i want to!

Ten hot things in no particular order:

{10}

Hot Type: Stilla by François Boltana, published by Elsner and Flake, 1973.
This font is SOO hot, I seriously drool. It's definitely gonna make it into my next newsletter.
I've linked the linotype Stilla, rather than the EF Stilla...but close enough for you to understand how HOT this typeface is.

(Let's be honest though...the hottest font out there is STILL Helvetica)

{9}

Hot Purses: Matt and Nat. Yes. Hotness! Vegan purses/Wallets which ought to make anyone swoon. I own the one on the far left (Mooj in Plum)...just a small wallet...But someday, I'm gonna find me a boy who'll buy me se7en (1st one, bottom row). *hehe* Or..maybe I'll just save up for it.

{8}

Hot Song: East to West. From the latest Casting Crowns Album.

{7}

Hot Project: These coasters, done by Claire Milne are beyond cute! I cannot wait to make these for my new home!

{6}

Hot Blog: Go fug yourself. We all have to learn from someone's mistakes. In this case, fashion mistakes.

{5}

Hot Mini-Trend: Kelly Green. Okay, so for awhile, back in '05 everyone was asking me why I was embraced in a passionate love affair with Kelly Green. Somehow, I managed to get my paws on two pairs of kelly green shoes.... turns out, Kelly Green is now a mini-trend in the design world, and you better believe it...i am patting myself on the back for being 2 years ahead of the trend.

{4}

Hot(test) Vehicle Ever: Okay, so I've totally blogged this before.... but... dude, how can one NOT drool? Yes. I am saving up to buy this baby.

{3}

Hot TV Clip: Ahh, I'm in love with The Office...and I love this clip. Her expression is priceless.

{2}

Hot Book: Knowing God by JI Packer. It's just filled with such great nuggets of truth.

{1}

Hot Children's books: Okay, so all summer, I've been re-reading books from my youth. Throughout my childhood, I absolutely loved ANYTHING by Enid Blyton. Every summer since university, I've come home and re-read portions of my Enid Blyton collection. They're STILL as good and as exciting as when I was 8 years old. My dear friend, Aban, will wholeheartedly agree with me! So, if you're looking for a great children's author..or a light (very) and fluffy read for yourself...check Ms. Blyton out. She's a 20th century marvel!

{-1} Hot Site: Why is it that I always find amazing sites when they're on hiatus? I'm sticking this one up despite it's current "on hiatus" status, because..well, 10+1 really is 11, and if I'm already breaking this rule..well why not take it one step further.

50,000

Well, it's not THAT big of a feat, seeing as some websites get thousands of hits a day. But, somehow 50, 000 hits STILL seems like a big feat.

Happy 50k, blog.

It's been good times, filled with craploads of drivel.

P.S. If you're on a mac, in Calgary, and accessed my blog via J. Alm's blog... you were my 50,000th visitor! Props. You win....

.....

nothing from me. But give yourself a pat on the back for having nothing better to do than to read the (almost) daily drivel, found right here. I think YOU owe ME something for relieving, what I can only guesstimate, is extreme boredom.

picture in my mind//let's talk jeans.

i have a picture in my mind.

a self-portrait.

i want to get'er done, but i lack some essential things.

i need a pair of grey sweatpants.
a completely white or off-white wall (textureless).
hardwood flooring.

if you can help me out..... let me know.

i think my former ballet studio has something like that. but.... i can't very well just march up there and take a pic.

maybe a house?

***

So being 5'2 and larger than a stick means that it is very hard to find a pair of jeans that fit. Jeans are generally not made for short people. So, you might say, 'Why not hem?' Well, if you hem, then the wash gets totally thrown off, unless you get a one-colour wash. I like dark wash jeans with slight fading and abrasion.Not too much abrasion. There's a reason the 90s went out of fashion. Also, hemming, unless done by a good tailor, sometimes looks tacky, unless you get the original hem re-attached. I'm picky.

Gap used to have AMAZING sizing. I could walk in, pick up a pair of 8 ankle (synonymous with 8 short) and walk out and KNOW that they'd fit. Then, they changed things, and their 8 ankle is too big and even their ankle sizes are too long.

This was VERY sad. I still wear a pair of Gap jeans I bought on montreal project 2005. That was before the sizing change.

BUT...today, my parents took me shopping. I was in need of a pair of jeans. I didn't think I'd be in Edmonton till October, so I didn't bring much clothing for the now-cold weather. I walked into a store, feeling rather dubious. Everything fits small in this store and it generally does not cater to short and rather stout people (a.k.a. me). BUT, they had SHORT sizes!!! I fit the FIRST pair I tried on! This has NEVER happened! MIRACLE! They're SUPER soft too.

Oh, and they don't ride low, but still hang at the hips and not the waist! MAGIC!

That is the end of my jeans story. Sorry for boring the public, but if you are 5'2, then you understand why this story is epic and worthy of an epic saga-like blog.

Marvelous, Beautiful, Abounding Grace.

Well guys...I've just been experiencing such GOOD truth in the past two days. On Wednesday, I just went through this HUGE time of processing. I was wondering why I was doing what I am doing; I had been asking myself whether this is REALLY what I want to do with my life..missions, that is. I was jealous of my friends who are able to buy nice, expensive things, and tired of the slow pace being in Edmonton brings. I was jealous of a friend in an AMAZING program, that I'd love to be in. I was SO tired of the loneliness and solitude that I've had to face, being here without much in the way of Christian fellowship. I kept asking, "What if?" "What am I missing out on by doing full-time min?"

But, on Thursday, my dear and AMAZING friend Aban sent me a chapter out of J.I. Packer's book, Knowing God....WHAT a slap in the face!!

Here are some words that spoke truth into my life:

"Constantly we find ourselves slipping into bitterness and apathy and gloom as we reflect on them, which we frequently do. The attitude we show to the world is a sort of dried-up stoicism, miles removed from the 'joy unspeakable and full of glory' which Peter took for granted that his readers were displaying (1Pet.1:8, KJV). 'Poor souls,' our friends say of us, 'how they've suffered'--and that is just what we feel about ourselves!

But these private mock heroics have no place at all in the minds of those who really know God. Tbey never brood on might-have-beens; they never think of the things they have missed, only of what they have gained. 'But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ,' wrote Paul. 'What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish (dung, KJV), that I may gain Christ and be found in him...I want to know Christ.' (Phil. 3:7-10)....what normal person spends his time nostalgically dreaming of manure? Yet this, in effect, is what many of us do. It shows how little we have in the way of true knowledge of God.

Anyways, what a slap in the face! Yesterday, I reveled in the goodness of the gospel, and realized that I have been squandering my time here in Edmonton. Sure, I've been doing support raising. Sure,I've been discipling this one girl. But realistically, I have not doing much else in way of being fruitful and investing the talents He has given me. So today, I spent a good 2 hours just praying and reading the Bible. I prayed that He would make me fruitful, and what an answer! I'd like to work up from 2 hours spent praying to 3, then 4 and then 5. If I'm not doing much during the day, I may as well spend it chatting with God and praying for His glory to be revealed to my supporters and to..well..everyone!

Here's something cool as well! The girl I'm discipling and I shared the gospel with a youth from my parents' church tonight...and he came to Christ!

What a great reminder for me, alongside that from Packer and from the Word, that there is NOTHING as good and as glorious as God, and investing in His eternal kingdom.

mmm.

When something like this happens and you see it 'click' in someone's eyes, you realize that everything else really IS rubbish, compared to knowing Jesus.

campaigns for real beauty...or a money grab?

Dove has gotten the whole world talking and raving about their amazing commercials, their choice to use real women and teach girls about TRUE beauty..etc. Makes me want to buy their products more. How great is a company that stands up against the objectification of women?

hmm.

Probably not that great when it objectifies women and sex to sell products to men.

Check out the difference between these two commercials. One catering to a largely female market, and one catering to a largely male market. What is the uniting factor? They're both products distributed by one company. Unilever.

sacrifice (2).

As I've said before...sometimes my thoughts come all at once. My brain has been rather lazy this summer/fall; it's only once I get it moving and the blood circulating around it that thoughts begin to percolate.

I was reading my friend Jess' blog a couple of weeks ago, and I read this post. Jess is in her last year of university, and desires to join staff with Campus Crusade for Christ, the same organization that I work for. Anyways, reading her thoughts really reminds me...of..well.. me, and funny enough, a similarly entitled blog that I wrote at the end of August.

In February, after already being accepted on staff, I went through a couple of weeks where I wondered WHAT the heck I was doing with my life by joining staff.

All in all, I'd say though, it wasn't much of a sacrifice to give up dreams of master's degrees and law school. I've left university, feeling rather jaded or disenamoured with what I had been studying. The competition (unhealthy competition) between classmates, and programs with a lack of a viable solution (Jesus) left me disenchanted with university. Relinquishing the dreams of master's programs was hard, not because these were things I was passionately in love with, but because they were dreams (albeit, dreams lacking substance) that I had held onto for so long.

In the past couple of months, I've had a lot of time to think about what I love doing. There have been some (replace "some" with "many) weeks where support raising has been slow, leaving me with far too much time on my hands. I've had to conjure up hobbies and activities to keep me sane, since I have almost no friends in Edmonton. When I look at my blogroll, my bookmarks, my internet history, and how I have spent my spare time, there have been multiple things that I have inclined my attention towards: interior design, graphic design, reading (almost one book a day/ various magazines/blogzines/webzines), editing (people's newsletters, papers, virtually anything I can get a hold of), typography, photography, music and discipleship&evangelism (though, in rather small quantities).

I was recently talking to a friend of mine. She is the sweetest and artsiest person you'll meet, and I asked her what she was studying in her post-grad program. All I knew was that it was something to do with publishing. She told me that she gets to do all sorts of amazing things like photography and design! I went to check out her program online...and just reading about the courses make me drool in a way that I never did over any of my psychology or peace and conflict studies courses. Photography...design...editing... mmm.. Who KNEW that a program with so many of my passions actually EXISTED??

Once again, joining staff feels like a sacrifice. Do not get me wrong. I am excited about what I've signed up to do. There really isn't anything better than doing pure discipleship and evangelism. And I KNOW this is what God has called me to do for the next while. I will do it with cheer, zeal and passion, because I love what He has called me to do. But the little voice at the back of my head asks, "What next?" "What will you do after the next couple of years?" "Can you see yourself doing this forever?" "By the time you finish, you'll be at least 23... you're wasting the prime of your life. If you want to go into any high profile industry, you have to do it while you're young." "You're wasting all your skills and not even getting to do all the things you love and take them seriously." "You love wearing expensive clothing and buying things. Look at your other friends. They can do this with their REAL jobs. You won't be able to. Even if you save up and use your salary, you'll have supporters wondering why you're using money they've given to buy a pair of $300 jeans."

And then I know, after hearing myself talk...that my heart is deceitful above all things, and that I am listening to the wrong voice. I am so quick to lust after the things of this world. Who else should I give the prime of my life to, if not God and His work? What has He given me these skills for? To simply satisfy myself or to usher more children into His fold? JEANS?? Since WHEN have I desired a pair of $300 jeans? After 2 years, they'd be destroyed anyways. Here today. Gone tomorrow.

Some days.... most days... I lack eternal perspective. I do desire for a way to incorporate more of my passions into my ministry, but I know that will happen on it's own, because the Creator does not leave His creation defenseless and without inspiration.

When I think about it more... how privileged am I to be able to do His Work full time? He doesn't need me. Not at all. But for some reason, He has chosen to use this stubborn, slow learning (I gave a talk on eternal perspective at church on sunday night...oh, pharisee that I am!), rebellious vessel.

I won't be able to buy $300 jeans. But the Prize is worthy enough to satiate ALL my bizarre fancies and desires. It is no sacrifice.

random thoughts.

1. why are there no jeans created for people 5'2 and under who aren't actually sticks?

2. i am addicted to stila cosmetics. No creases!

3. awhile back, i cut reading chick-lit, because non-Christian chick-lit was just too racy, and Christian chick-lit just too cheesy. BUT, while i was at the Toronto airport, I picked up a book to pass the 4 hour flight... and realized it was Christian chick-lit that is actually so catchy it sells on the secular market...WITHOUT racy-ness. I've read all three books that the authors have. good times.

4. i love that birds are totally IN in the design world.

5. i love that bikes are totally IN in the design world as well.

6. i need a good hobby to do on my own, but at home. Something that is cheap but that incorporates art/design/photography and love.

7. i would like to redesign this blog, but i don't have a program...and straight up coding does not enthuse me like it once did.

8. growing up kinda makes me sad.

9. it was my friend Ashley's birthday yesterday. We've known each other for 17 years. That's a long time. longer than most marriages. i like our friendship. we can not see each other for months on end, and still have a great time. Most friendships are not like this.

10. i have little to blog about, and my readership has been cut by about 2/3rds since last year at this time. ah well.

10+1. top 3 websites of the week:

(z) dooce.com ~ caveat: she is a bit vulgar/jaded at times. BUT, SO incredibly sarcastic and funny. right up my alley.

(y) designspongeonline.com : i've been following design sponge for a LONG time, but she recently migrated over to her own domain...and it's even BETTER now!

(x) poppytalkhandmade.com : opened Oct 1. It's a GREAT collective. Even if just to "window" shop.

Another happy thought.

One of my favourite magazines is called Spacing. Spacing is a magazine which promotes the understanding and public ownership of Toronto's urban landscape. It covers hot political, social and cultural issues that people in the public realm face. Anyways, the photography in Spacing is always beautiful, and the fact that it is a magazine primarily devoted to present day Toronto zeitgeist makes me almost delirious. Yes, I love Toronto.

At any rate, this really isn't the happy thought, although, it is a pretty happy thought. What IS making me happy, is that Spacing Montreal recently launched. Although not a magazine, but an online blog, this really makes me happy. What good timing! As I prepare to move to Montreal, I am so thankful that something like this exists to help me understand the city more and how I can embrace it to the full.

Yay for new life adventures to come!

Faces.

this makes me happy.

a day of weird dreams.

I figure, when there's a case of writer's block, the best way to deal with this is just to press through. Maybe this comes from my Chinese upbringing. As a child, growing up, I was never allowed to miss school. Throughout high school I must've had an almost perfect track record. I even went into an exam once, only to be forced home because I was vomiting too much.

Thus, I have decided that I am going to press through this writer's block and write about a dream I had last night. But before that, a short description of what I was up to before heading to bed.

Last night, I was visiting my friend Dave in Fort Saskatchewan. He was busy barbecuing outside, and I was inside, frying the mushrooms. UFC was on, so I was sporadically keeping my eye on the telly. The fight was over, the champion announced, and I noticed the winner wearing a t-shirt proudly displaying the words "Condomdepot.com." I chuckle and mention this to Dave, who says that it must be one of the fighter's sponsors.

Fastforward to nighttime. I get home around 11:15 and climb into bed shortly thereafter. Sleep washes over me. I fall asleep very fast and deeply. Suddenly, I find myself standing next to my friend Shelly. I realize I have a feminine emergency, and after rifling through my purse, I ask her if I can borrow a tampon. She says yes, and pulls out what appears to be a set of condoms in tiny square packages. I think to myself, "That is weird." I ask Shelly why her tampons look like condoms. She shoots me a piercing glare and declares in a very Shelly voice, "They're not condoms. They're what I use instead of tampons!"

I take the condom-looking-feminine-product and head to a bathroom stall. There, I rip it open, and just like I predicted, it IS a condom! But I trust Shelly, and proceed to try to figure out how to use the err...non-condom. I unfold it, and it becomes bigger and bigger and suddenly is no longer the off-white latex colour, but rather very maroon. Not only has the colour changed, but so has the shape! It has now morphed into....a pair of maroon rain pants with a diagonal silver stripe across the knee! You know, the kind you once wore when you were in elementary school in the 90s with a matching track jacket (or the kind that your present-day-susan powter-jane fonda look alike-physed teacher wears). I look at the once-non-condom-feminine-product-turned-maroon-trackpants and stand puzzled. How am I supposed to use this?

I wake up.

I blame my friend Dave and his UFC watching habits for this bizarre dream.

(If you started reading this half-way through, PLEASE note that this was a dream, and that my friend Shelly does not walk around with a string of unused "condom" packs in her purse.)

inspired by peter bjorn and john.

I'm suffering from a bit of writer's block. I had a fantastic four days in Toronto. I have some seriously amazing friends and a seriously amazing church family.

I wish I had something groundbreaking to write. But there really is nothing. So instead of submitting the reader to half-baked drivel, I present you with an article that cracked me up...and yet was filled with truth.

click here.

Being in Edmonton.





(and yes, i totally broke the rule of thirds.)

Women's MMA


I was sitting and waiting at a dentist office today, waiting for the dentist to finish so that I could do a support appointment with her. I picked up a copy of TIME magazine and read THIS article. (click here too).

Two lines that have gotten me thinking:

"I don't want to see two women beatin' on each other. I don't like it." ~ Dana White

"To be able to potentially break somebody's arm is pretty cool for me."~ Jessica Pene

Is it a double standard to say that I identify with what White is saying? In the eyes of the secularized public, does it make me just as "chauvinist"? That I'd watch, or at least condone men beating on each other, but that hearing about women beating on each other makes me cringe is probably making many feminists...or many WOMEN cringe.
Is this an inborn thing or is it a conservative traditionalist perspective? A realization that as a woman, I want the knight in shining armour who fights, but wouldn't want to be the knight myself? Or is it a socialized thing?
If I see men fighting men as a sport, akin to karate or running, then why am I cringing when it's women fighting women?
What is Biblical femininity and masculinity in this case?
Whereas most males would say the goal isn't to necessarily maim one's opponent but to get them to tap out, many females in this sport, seem to have a different desire.
The desire to break one's arm is different from a desire to win.

I don't know what to think...I obviously have more questions than answers.


This blog will definitely be polarizing in terms of an audience...and I'm being very careful (but probably not enough) about what I say....

Because 6 years ago, the feminist me would have wanted to break my arm..right about now.

a different kind of life.

Four years ago, I had just arrived in Toronto. The February prior, I had completed all my university applications. I watched as letters streamed in.

Princeton.
University of Alberta.
Queens.
University of Toronto.

The last one was the one I had been waiting for. The one I had dreamed of receiving ever since I had decided to be a pediatric cardiologist when I was five.
In high school, when I finished Calculus at some ridiculous age like 13, I thought I'd become an engineer. Math and Physics were always my favourite subjects. Ninety seven throughout high school. A seven on my IB exam. My physics teacher STILL loves me. We talk once in awhile. Engineering seemed like the right option. When I got a full scholarship into the Engineering programme at the U of A, I toyed with the idea of staying in Edmonton for about five seconds.
But the U of T package came. A decision had to be made. Engineering? Arts? Science?

I chose Arts, because I couldn't see myself sitting in an office or out on a site, and as a way to rebel against the Asian destiny. I was going to become a lawyer.

Instead, in May I convocated with a B.Sc (Hon).

I still chuckle, because until October of this year, I did not know I was graduating with a science degree. Way to rebel against my Asian roots.

Recently, I was telling a friend about how i could've turned out to be Lydia the Engineer. I'm not quite sure if he believed me. It's funny. When I was in high school, math and "smarts" were all people remembered me for. I was a hollow shell of a person. Now, most people don't know me as the math lover. The words Lydia and math hardly ever occur in a sentence together.

The new school year is starting. People are heading back to school.

I am not.

I'm headed into the working world. But I'm not sitting in an office, nor am I on a site. I'm not in law school and I'm not going for a masters.

Instead, I get paid to tell people about Jesus.

When David Naylor shook my hand and asked me what my future plans were, up on the stage in convocation hall, I told him I was going to be a missionary.

It's almost surreal. Almost ridiculous. It's not prestigious.

At times, I lose focus. I forget that this is what I want to do. I want to become a photographer. Go into graphic design. Apply for law school. Go into journalism and have my name in the byline.

But then I see my 15 year old neighbour who tells me I have "street cred" because I've watched UFC. Just once, but apparently it's enough. He tells me that he'll listen to me talk about that "Jesus sh*t" because he thinks i'm a cool twenty-one year old.

And my heart feels happy I did not become a pediatric cardiologist, an engineer or a lawyer.

twenty one.

I turned 21 yesterday. To me, 21 isn't that big of a deal. The older I get, the more I realize how young I am. The majority of my close friends are approaching their mid-twenties, so the fact that I am merely 21, doesn't require that much celebration. It's simply a marker of how much I do not yet know.

A birthday with little fanfare. Yet, it may have been greater than, or at least on par with my last four birthdays. I thought I would have been bitter, because I'm still in Edmonton, when I never anticipated I'd be here beyond August. But, when you're away from friends, you feel their love even more, and smaller things become so much more meaningful.

A parcel in the mail (Jenbo) and a birthday card arriving on the same day the sender was leaving the country (Aban) made me smile ten times more. Phone calls bringing the familiar cacophony of voices to my ears were also so lovely (Janette, Brad, Wynja, Jess Farq). Friends in Ontario who stayed up till midnight MST to say "hello and happy birthday" are crazy, but maybe that's why I love them (Frank). Dinner with a good friend (Dave) from Toronto, which included sweet potato fries, mac and cheese, apple crumble and a sea breeze that made my cheeks burn(with a waiter that reminded us of pee-wee herman) at my favourite restaurant made it all the more fun.

When I got home, people had dropped off birthday cards for me (Mel, Terence, Mich, Stephen&ShuYee). Some were really unexpected.

I don't know, I felt really loved. Maybe it's because when you're so far away and people STILL take the effort to love you, it feels nice.

Sending a parcel in the midst of moving is no small task. Remembering a birthday when one is embarking on a year in North Africa is also worthy of praise. Taking time to make phone calls during FROSH week when you're a campus staff, or a student leader and all you've been doing for the past week is calling and meeting people and calling some more, requires sacrifice. Calling for the second time when the person shafted you the first time and it's past 1am in Guelph, means that you MUST want to talk to the person. Staying awake until 2am EST...well that's just crazy. Dinner when long hours have been worked and the drive into town takes at least 30-45 minutes, and you have to pick the person up and drop them off AND be coherent for dinner also requires sacrifice.

I have a lot of friends who love me. Which is pretty insane, because I am not a naturally lovable person.

Tonight, there's a chocolate mousse cake awaiting me (mom and dad).

It's not where I would have chosen to be, but for today (JUST FOR TODAY), it's not all that bad.

The making of a tennis player does not begin the first time he or she steps onto Centre Court at Wimbledon; nor does the making of a concert violinist begin on stage at Carnegie Hall. Such careers begin much earlier than that, often in childhood. Making it to the top demands sacrificing much that others take for granted; while others play, they must work--on lobs and smashes, serves and backhands, scales and arpeggios, bowing and fingering. Without those years of preparation, they would never be ready for their big moment in the public eye, the goal to which their whole life has been heading. Indeed, it would be unfair to expect a top performance at the highest level from a beginner. Only those who have matured through long and sometimes tedious years of preparation are equipped to take such a searching test.

The same principle holds true in God's service. Like an astute coach or a gifted teacher, God prepares his saints for the tasks to which he has appointed them before he uses them. Moses, for example, spent forty years in the desert, herding sheep, before God called him to lead his people out of Egypt. What better preparation in patience could there have been for his assignment of leading an equally stubborn flock of people through wilderness for forty years? Similarly, David learned courage from his own experience as a shepherd. Later the one who had learned how to take on wild animals in the defense of his flock would be called upon to take on the biggest wild animal of all, mighty Goliath, in the defense of God's flock. God knows how to prepare his people for the tasks to which they are assigned.

~Living in the Gap Between Promise and Reality by Iain M. Duiguid

Anger.

Today, I woke up and I was angry. I haven't felt angry like that in awhile. My head was full of profanity, but there was nowhere to use it. I was angry because in two days, I will turn twenty one, and will spend it with no one since I have no friends here. Angry because it had been almost two weeks and I was still stuck at the same percentage. Angry at sunday school answers that have been thrown at me, like "God is sovereign." Angry because He brought me to a place of drought. Angry because certain people won't even give me a chance to show I am different, after four years of being away. Angry because my spirit was convicted by the gospel (yet again), and I did not want to be. Angry because anger fuels anger, and I wanted to be angry.

So, i sat out on our deck in the sunlight, and felt angry that it was sunny out. I pulled out the Bible and started reading. I felt angry that the words were swimming in my head and meaning nothing. I was angry that I do not know the Word as I should, and angry that everyone else seems to know the Word so well.

I pulled out my journal. And I prayed. Well, actually, a better description would be that I threw a tantrum. For the first time since high school, I actually swore when I was praying. In my anger, I figured that since God sees my thoughts anyways, I may as well write it out in my journal.

I'm not gonna lie. It felt good to get it all out.

And my heart ceased to be angry, and I was left broken.
I didn't know what to pray. So, I apologized and told Him I was just tired of being here and wondering where He was in all of this. I told Him I gave up. I closed my journal and went to take a nap. Sleeping has been such a refuge lately.

The phone rang. A woman across the street called and asked if I could do a support presentation for her. I went. She and her sons decided to support me. Her ten year old son asked her if he could support me. I wanted to cry.
I came home. The phone rang again. Someone I had met up with last week called to tell me they would be joining my support team.
The phone rang again. Someone gave me a referral. I called the woman and she said she'd be praying about it.

In one day, without doing anything, He launched me up ten percent.

Even in the midst of my anger, frustration and bitterness, He is still taking care of me.

It reminded me of a story one of the staff members told this summer. Sean is a staff member with a SUPER cute daughter. He told us a story about how one night his daughter threw a tantrum because she wanted to watch another episode of Dora the Explorer. He knew it was her bedtime, and when he told her this, she started crying and yelling "Dora!!". Sean said it broke his heart to see her crying like that, and really desired to let her watch Dora, and yet he knew what she needed was sleep. So he picked her up, let her cry, and took her to bed.

I think, this story has really kept me going, while I've been in Edmonton. I've wanted to give up. I've thrown many tantrums. Yet, He continues to take care of me. His heart breaks, just like mine does, but He sweeps up the pieces of my heart and painstakingly glues them back together.

I won't lie. I'm an Israelite at heart, straight out of the book of Judges. In two days, on my birthday, I'll probably have forgotten this lesson, and I'll probably throw another tantrum, because I'll be tired of being alone and tired of support raising, and tired of anything and everything.

But, tonight, I'll sit and ponder at the God I serve. That He would deign to care about my solitary soul is pretty amazing.

Sacrifice.

No appointments.

Boredom.

Today, I had a headache. In Toronto, I would have scoffed and ignored it. Here, I had hours which stretched on to take a nap.

I woke up.

Facebook.

A classmate of mine had put up pictures. He is in New York now. He was accepted to Columbia for law school.

My former roommate is also in New York. She was accepted to NYU for a master's program.

I could have been them.

I could be in New York, doing the student thing that's always seen in movies.

I could be living their lives.

I look at mine. Sleeping in till 9am. Waking up with hours of nothing to do. Sitting at my computer more than half the time. Hoping that people will be merciful and agree to meet up with me.

It's a humdrum life right now, and I lack vision.

I gave up dreams of being a lawyer, going to law school in New York.

All so I could sit here and type up this blog...because I have nothing better to do.

Today, I wonder why I gave up those dreams.

For these five minutes, I feel resentful.

But it will be a fleeting feeling, because I know where He has called me. I know He has called me to forsake those dreams for something better.

Faithful.

There's a distance in the air and i cannot make it leave
I wave my arms 'round about me and blow with all my might
I cannot sense you close, though i know you're always here
But the comfort of you near is what i long for.

When i can't feel you, i have learned to reach out just the same
When i can't hear you, i know you still hear every word i pray
And i want you more than i want to live another day
and as i wait for you maybe i'm made more faithful.

All the folly of the past, though i know it is undone
I still feel the guilty one, still trying to make it right
So i whisper soft your name, let it roll around my tongue, knowing you're the only one who knows me
You know me.

Show me how I should live this
Show me where I should walk
I count this world as loss to me
You are all i want
You are all i want.

~Brooke Fraser, from the album, Albertine.

fonts.

A lot of people have been asking me if Edmonton is really as lonely as I make it out to be. "Is that even possible, to not have any friends, " they ask.

Yes, yes..it really is.

"What do you do during the day?"

That is a very good question.

Since support raising is moving so slowly here, I often don't have very many appointments. Today was one such day. I woke up, spent some time reading the Bible and worked on my monthly update letter. Once that was done, I had nothing to do, so for the better part of 2-3 hours, I looked at different font faces online.

Yes. I perused through hundreds and hundreds of free fonts.

But, today was a better day than yesterday. I spent a lot of time yesterday feeling angry and bitter at everyone. Especially God. Him and I hadn't been talking for awhile. For about a week, I had stopped praying and stopped reading the Bible. Not only has my life been pretty banal and quiet lately, God has also been very quiet. It has been over a month since I've really gleaned something from the Word, and because of the lack of fellowship, there hasn't really been anyone to talk to about things I'm reading in the Word.

Yesterday was the day I finally acknowledged my frustration at God. Not only has he brought me to a place where friends are few and far between, He himself has also remained so stiffly silent, and support raising is moving slower than a snail's pace. I was angry.

But last night, someone told me to read Isaiah 35...and a couple of verses really stood out at me. It was almost jarring, the way they stood out:

Strengthen the weak hands,
and make firm the feeble knees.
Say to those who have an anxious heart,
"Be strong; fear not!"

Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,
and the ears of the deaf unstopped;
then shall the lame man leap like a deer,
and the tongue of the mute sing for joy.
For waters break forth in the wilderness
and streams in the desert;
the burning sand shall become a pool,
and the thirsty ground springs of water.


Talking to a friend tonight, he also brought up the illustration of me being in the desert.

I've known that I've been in the desert; let's be honest...how could I not know? But I've been resentful instead of clinging to the hope that water will break forth in this wilderness. Yet, THIS is what faith is. It is being assured of things hoped for, convicted of things not seen. Getting out of here is something totally unseen. I don't know when the next time I will see my Toronto friends will be, or when I'll make it to Montreal. But at the same time, I know an end will come, so I will greet it from afar.

In the meantime, I will continue to peruse through a hundred more fonts.

Advice.

i've gotten some pretty stellar advice while i've been edmonton re: loneliness.

"you're not in edmonton to have fun with friends. you're in edmonton to support raise."

i'm not hurting because of a lack of fun. i'm hurting because it's been a month and i've had almost no Christian fellowship.

"you have lots of friends in edmonton! i've seen pictures."

just because i sit and smile with people in pictures does not mean that loneliness doesn't exist.
and just because there's smiles does not mean that there's happiness.

"maybe you need to develop some hobbies."

yes, i am going to start knitting and i will buy myself a cat and make some doilies.
i have hobbies! But even hobbies are often better with friends.

"why don't you make some friends?"

yes, it's that easy. i will go out today, and meet someone, just then and there.

"hi, i'm lydia! Can i be your frieeend?"
"uhh"
"i think i can come over today, if you're free"
"what did you say your name was again?"

yeah. piece of cake.


i thought i'd be out of here for September.

Then the end of September.

Now, even the end of September looks like it won't happen. I'd have to raise about 400 in monthly giving per week to make it for the end of September, and the way things are looking, it'll take me three times as long.

i bought a fall coat last week, because the leaves are turning orange, and i never anticipated that i'd be here past September.

i know i should feel grateful; i'm at an amazing level of support. God has really blessed me in this. But i wonder how much longer i can hold out in Edmonton. When i say i'm lonely, i'm not on a quest for advice. I'm a people person. It's not as though I'm purposely sitting at home, not attempting to meet people, not attempting to make friends.
It's one thing to have friends. It's another thing to have friends. If something had happened to me while my parents were in Florida last week, NO ONE would have known until my parents returned.

THAT is how isolating Edmonton is. It's not about the lack of "fun" I've been having. I couldn't care less about "fun". I've been having "fun". It's about knowing that if anything happened to me in Edmonton while my parents were gone, no one would have even KNOWN.

So when people tell me that I'm not in Edmonton to "have fun", they're right. I'm not. But being isolated isn't that great either. I'd like to see them try it.

The worst thing is..knowing that i'll have to buy a winter jacket, because i won't be outta here before the first snowfall hits.

AND i left my snowboard in Montreal.

memories.

sometimes, it's hard to not let memories taint your perspective of new times, new things, new people.

sometimes, it's also hard to forgive all over again, and to not let bitterness take root.

i am the proudest person ever.

i need to pray for humility, that i might forgive, not because i can, or because i necessarily want to, but because He forgave me first.

Missing.

I was just talking on msn with a friend. She was talking about how there's a staff barbecue tomorrow in Toronto, and how she's not super excited because she likes small group gatherings more. On one hand, I totally understood her; I'm not a large group gathering person either.
On the other hand, I couldn't help feeling jealous. I wish I could explain the isolation I feel, being out here in Edmonton. The past couple of weeks have been a lot better in terms of loneliness. I've been hanging out with some high school girlfriends, and that's always nice. A lot of them are leaving for school though, either this week or next week. I hung out once with a staff couple, which also proved to be nice. I realize though, that other than hanging out with this staff couple once, and hanging out with a friend of mine from Toronto, who seems to be here a lot for work, I've had almost no Christian fellowship.

I don't remember the last time I sat in a group with people and talked about the Bible. Must've been at staff conference, which was about a month ago.

The loneliness has dissipated a bit; I'm getting used to it, and hanging out with high school friends has been sweet. But it's definitely NOT the same as sitting in fellowship with people who love Jesus.

I miss talking about Him with people who also know Him.

I miss sitting and having someone pull out a guitar to worship.

I miss going to church on Sundays and feeling excited to meet God with people I love.

I miss corporate prayer.

I miss seeing Jesus through the combined lenses of His followers.

miscellaneous.

My 'rental units are coming home tomorrow. This means I need to clean. My parents are clean people. Now, you might be saying to yourself, "I'm a clean person too..."

Uh no.

My parents are CLEAN.

In fact, you could probably run your tongue along our hardwood floor and end up being MORE healthy from doing so, than if you hadn't licked it at all.

That's the kind of clean people they are.

I need to clean.

I was just getting used to living bachelorette style.

wishlist.

1. canon EF 50mm f/1.8 II lens. (well, a 1.4 would be nice, but that's just REALLY wishing upon a star)
2. lensbaby 3g
3. to be out of here by the end of september.
4. circular polarizer filter.
5. a sewing machine.
6. a button maker
7. a starbucks in my basement....so that i could grab a coffee at any time.
8. friends for edmonton.
9. to become a rockstar.

life is full of randomness.

i'm moving to a land flowing with...... gonorrhea?


click here.

and the strain is apparently more drug-resistant in Montreal than in Toronto.

WOW.

Its things like THIS that make me really miss Toronto.


I'm praying it won't rain tomorrow. I want to go check out the Fringe on Whyte, and hopefully get some good shots.

Gotta get my culture in somehow! It's a lot harder here than in Toronto.

And speaking of culture....

Some of my favourite photoblogs. A collection of old favourites and new finds.

1. daily dose of imagery.
2. hello.
3. mute.
4. worksongs. (i can't wait to move to Montreal to do photog, so i've linked one of his montreal pictures! Believe it or not, this is a saturday regular attendance for the fireworks in the summer.)
5. Invisible Threads. (i love this blog for its abandoned buildings series.)
6. Justin Gaynor.

and... a small photoblog that i'll try to update at least once a week. After all, a photo every so often, keeps the humdrum life away!

Today, I was talking to a friend. I told him to check out a sermon I'd been listening to. He asked me what it was about, and I replied, "Jesus and the cross."

"There's a lot of those kinds of sermons, isn't there?"

You don't need to listen to it, I can't force you. We forget about the cross far too often.

"I'm just wondering how much you can preach on it, is all."

It's not about preaching more. Its about preaching it. Jesus and the cross is the crux of everything we believe in.

"I've just lost that wonder and excitement, I think."

***

Just this morning, I was praying that God would awaken me to the wonder of His Word and the gospel. Life has been a bit lacklustre these past few weeks. I've been going through the motions. Throughout the day, I was reminded of how important the gospel is. Indeed, it is the ONLY thing of importance. Jesus is the only One who is worthy of our affections, and when He pales in comparison to other things, we really need to be searching our hearts and asking ourselves WHY the Creator of the universe pales in comparison to His creation. Ha, sounds like Romans 1:25 eh?

It is often SO easy to draw near to God when I'm running at full speed and gasping for breath, or when I'm drowning in life. But it is harder to remember that I am a being, wholly dependent on God, when life is slow moving, when i'm in a slow moving city, when I'm waking up late each morning without anyone to see or minister to throughout the day. Doing it on my own becomes easier than it is at any other time, and yet, it becomes so much more lacklustre. Banal.

I do not want to be an "adrenal" Christian, as John Piper puts it. I want to be a "coronary" Christian.

"..adrenaline is [not] bad, I said; it gets me through lots of Sundays. But it lets you down on Mondays. The heart is another kind of friend. It just keeps on serving—very quietly, through good days and bad days, happy and sad, high and low, appreciated and unappreciated. It never says, ‘I don’t like your attitude, Piper, I’m taking a day off.’ It just keeps humbly lub-dubbing along. It endures the way adrenaline doesn’t. Coronary Christians are like the heart in the causes they serve. Adrenal Christians are like adrenaline—a spurt of energy and then fatigue."~ J. Piper

The race I am running has not ended, simply because I am alone and in slow moving time of life. Thus, I need to be crying out at ALL times for His mercy to be upon me, and for the cross to excite me in ways that I have never experienced before.




p.s. there have been SO many of you who have sent me messages/comments/emails/letters of encouragement, this past while. It is so touching that people would read this blog, so full of drivel, and care to send a little encouragement my way! Especially people whom I rarely talk to, or even know! I may not reply to you (right away, or at all), but thank you SO much, I have been SO encouraged by your words of affection and grace.

So What Does an Edmonton Girl do for Fun?

Well, not to perpetuate stereotypes or anything....but these were the products of my afternoon....

Today, I thought Your silence was deafening.

I told You so.

Then all of a sudden. New friends. Old friends. Friends I'm not even friends with. Msn.
Everywhere I turned.

These exact words:

"Walking, stumbling
On these shadow feet
Toward home, a land that I've never seen
I am changing
Less and less asleep
Made of different stuff than when I began

And I have sensed it all along
Now fast approaching is the day

When the world has fallen out from under me
I'll be found in you, still standing
When the sky rolls up and mountains fall on their knees
When time and space are through
I'll be found in you

There's distraction
Buzzing in my head
Saying in the shadows it's easier to stay
But I've heard rumours of true reality
Whispers of a well-lit way



You make all things new


When the world has fallen out from under me
I'll be found in you, still standing
Every fear and accusation under my feet
When time and space are through
I'll be found in you
When time and space are through
I'll be found in you
When time and space are through
I'll be found in you"
(Brooke Fraser~ Shadowfeet)

I love how you speak to me. When I'm too tired, too weary, too frustrated to open Your Word, you STILL speak to me.

enough wallowing. Five good things.

1. the veggie burger and sweet potato fries from the Blue Plate Diner.
2. talking politics and arts with my favourite former drum teacher.
3. getting out of a parking ticket.
4. snail mail (with cacophony in hilarious packaging, a la J.Alm)
5. 54%

a good thing or two.

There are very few good things about Edmonton. Let's be honest.

One of them is ice cream from Marble Slab.

The other...is the sky. This was tonight's sky.

farewell reds.

And they drove off into the sunset with Baby Reds in the back. Literally.

A week ago, I sold Baby Reds (my drum set) to a nice family. They picked her up today.

I know it sounds weird, but I think it just added to the feeling of aloneness. Those who make music know that saying goodbye to an instrument is like saying goodbye to an old friend. A musician will know his/her instrument intimately and deeply.

Anyways, this was the end of me and Baby Reds. It marks the loneliness I feel and almost makes my move to Montreal as final as it could possibly be.

Tonight, someone I dearly love offered me something truly amazing. Just the offer is enough to bring me to my knees.

I don't even know what to say right now.

All because of Jesus.

Today was the first day, in a little over a week that I hung out with anyone remotely close to my age. I studied with a friend (studied!!! on the long weekend!!! That's how desperate I was for human company), then met up with another friend and her parents, and then met up with the former friend for dinner and a movie.

It was so nice.

I can't describe how lonely my heart has felt this past week. I know that to most, it seems trivial. After all, I have only been back one week. But to me, it is no small thing. I feel like I have been separated from home and everyone I love.

As I got into the car tonight, the drive home was not just a drive home. It was all I could do to hold back the tears. Tomorrow stretches ahead of me; I do not know what church I will go to. I do not know anyone, really. I know church isn't necessarily about people, but about meeting with God, but last week, I couldn't hold back the tears as I thought about my church in Toronto. There are a few people, once friends, but it's been four years..I don't even know where to begin. I don't want to go to a foreign church and cry in front of people I do not know. I don't have that vulnerability in me. I don't want to make new friends; I don't have the energy it requires to make the small talk that necessarily precedes friendship. With my parents out of town, what will I do tomorrow? It'll be a day of seeing absolutely no one.

So, as I closed the door, freshly dropped off, my ride pulling out of the driveway, I locked it and stood against it and bawled. Is this what it will be like for the rest of my time in Edmonton? Will it be weeks, maybe months, between times when I meet up with the people I really love?

Is this what it'll be like in Montreal, where I know few people as well?

I don't know if i can do it.

My nose is all snotty and clogged up from crying. I am a wimp. I am going to go blow it and then I am going to try to be grateful that for at least one day, during this time in Edmonton, I was able to fellowship with dear friends.

to go or not to go?

August 19th-21st. Montreal Metro team retreat+ planning.

It's up to me to decide if i want to go. I'm not too sure if I should or not. Assuming I'm not done support raising, it would mean taking about 5 days off of support raising, and having to pay for the travel costs and such. Is it a wise use of money?

I'm not sure what I should do.

What is wise?

I think I just want to go, because I really miss people, and if I am support raising past September, I don't know how long I can stick it out in Edmonton without seeing any friends.

Promise of a Lifetime~ Kutless

I have fallen to my knees
As I sing a lullaby of pain
I’m feeling broken in my melody
As I sing to help the tears go away

Then I remember the pledge you made to me

I know you’re always there
To hear my every prayer inside
I’m clinging to the promise of a lifetime
I hear the words you say
To never walk away from me and leave behind
The promise of a lifetime

Will you help me fall apart
Pick me up, take me in your arms
Find my way back from the storm
And you show me how to grow
Through the change

I still remember the pledge you made to me


I am holding on to the hope I have inside
With you I will stay through every day
Putting my understanding aside

And I am comforted
To know you’re always there
To hear my every prayer inside
I’m clinging to the promise of a lifetime
I hear the words you say
To never walk away from me and leave behind
The promise of a lifetime


***

I had a weird conversation with God yesterday. It was so candid, so real.

"I'm lonely, Lord. The months are stretching out ahead of me. How will I last, if I'm here past August?"
"My grace is sufficient for you. I am enough for you."
"I don't want just you, I want people. Tangible people that I can touch and see."

And that's when I stopped dead in my tracks. What do I truly value? It was eye opening.

day 3.

i am writing this, and there is a window beside me. This window overlooks a backyard of green grass and flowers. Some exist on their own. Some are potted. There is a little maple tree in the corner and some other kind of tree in the other corner.

Coming to Edmonton, I have felt like a plant, transplanted out of a place of rich nutrients and comfort. Here, there is no one to turn to. There is no one to see. Aside from support raising (MPD), the weeks are stretching out before me. Barren.

Yesterday, I was lonely. I felt it. Deeply. I thought about how MPD might stretch on into the fall, and how I'll sit each night, missing people. I thought about how there is seriously no one. No one to be physically present with. No one to study the Bible with. No one to eat ice cream with. The one friendship I thought I might have for at least a little while this summer, I totally messed up. I felt utterly alone.

In the midst of these thoughts, a picture of a plant being transplanted came to mind. The plant is stripped of everything it knows. The roots it has deeply entrenched in the soil are pried out, and the environment it once enjoyed is no more. It is plunged into a new pot. Different soil. Its roots have not yet taken to the soil, and everything is new. And yet, this is what the plant needs to flourish. Had it stayed in the smaller pot, it would have eventually atrophied and died. A new beginning is required to bring about growth and new fruit.

There is a reason why I am in Edmonton this summer. My soul feels desperately lonely, and yet I know I need this. I need to love Jesus in a way I never have before, if I am going to flourish in Montreal. This time in Edmonton may just be what is required.

goodbye baby reds.

well, tonight is a sad night. Some people are coming over to check out baby reds (my drum kit) to see if they want to buy her.

it'll be a sad night. But..alas, it's not like i'm going to ship my drums to Montreal.

Sometimes, you just gotta say goodbye.

exciting news.

okay, so i'm not really a gossip column junkie, but this news is exciting for me. Two of my favourite artists, Bethany Dillon and Shane Barnard (of Shane&Shane) are engaged!

Haha, i feel like this post is cheesy. But it's exciting! I heart bethany dillon!

and so it begins... day 1.

Is it weird to say that there already exists a spirit of loneliness? It has only been one day, and yet it is already overwhelming, knowing that I am living out of suitcases, and that today, there will be no friend to see. It is a strange feeling; I am a guest in the house I grew up in.

Support raising is daunting as well. How does one support raise when they have not talked to most people in 4 years?

Oh, how I am in need.

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not fear and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you.

Father, let Your light shine down on me.

i'ma headed "home."

Well, I'm heading back to Edmonton. I put home in quotations, because Edmonton isn't really home. Toronto is home. I don't want to think about it. I'm scared.

This past week, however, has been GREAT!!! Some highlights included amazing sessions by my FAVOURITE preacher, Mark Driscoll, hanging out with new friends and old friends, going mountain biking, and EATING lunch with two of my friends and MARK DRISCOLL (and his administrative assistant). Could life BE better?

Going back to Edmonton is going to be hard. I'll be going to a place where I have few Christian friends, and definitely no close Christian friends. I'll be going to a place where my mother hates what I am doing with my life, and where arguments are sure to come and are sure to be frequent. I'll be going to a place where the ONLY way to live is to live it through the workings of the Holy Spirit.

It's going to be a lonely, refining time.

Rejoice.

Today was the first of many Sundays that I will not be at my church in Toronto. It's a weird feeling. I haven't had much time to process while I've been here, nor to feel completely nostalgic, but I definitely felt it today. It's something I really feel Satan will use to take advantage of me; it will be easy to focus so much on the good things on the past, that I will miss out on the good things in store for me, of which there are many.

So, I am resolving to rejoice at where I am. I will rejoice that God has chosen to send me to a land with hard soil, so that I can labour with His power. I will rejoice that I have an amazing team, and that I have a job that I thoroughly enjoy. I will rejoice, because if nothing else, He lives in me, and that is enough to bring this girl to her knees. I suck at saying goodbyes; it's tough and I hate change. But the God we serve unites us by being a God who never changes. He is the same yesterday, today and forever.

Rejoice.

i'm tired guys.

it's a horrible way to start off campus training days and staff conference. But i have to admit to being pretty beat. I've had a hard week relationally, and having to say goodbye to everyone made it all the more difficult. Now, all the small talk that always happens at national conferences is also sapping my energy. Please pray for refreshment.

rise, pick up your bed and go home.

I awoke this morning to a sinking heart, full of condemnation directed towards myself. I often struggle in the mornings. I struggle to believe in His goodness, to believe in His sovereignty, to believe in His plans. Things I learn the night before seem far away, and it is easy to slip into self-pity. Today I woke up, and began to listen to thoughts hitting me like jarring needles. 6:57am. Though i wanted to go back to sleep, I could not.

"You're not beautiful enough."
"You're not good enough."
"How could you have thought that? You should have been smarter."
"It's all your fault."
"Maybe if you were more ____(insert positive adjective here)___"

I need to combat these lies with truth. As a female, or perhaps, as a human, it is so easy to belittle ourselves when we don't receive anticipated affirmation from friends, family members, coworkers etc. It's so easy to believe that we are worthless, and to fall into a pattern of self-condemnation and guilt. But in 1 Peter, we see that Jesus did not receive his sense of worth from man, for he was rejected by men. He was chosen by God; this is what made Him beautiful and precious; this is what made Him worthy.

You and I, we too have been chosen by God. Our worth is not determined by how much we appraise ourselves to be worth. It isn't determined by the affections of others, nor is it determined by our actions. In reality, we are worth nothing, bound to return to dust, and enslaved to death. But Jesus made Himself sacrificially available so that we might be freed from this; He was beaten and made lame, so that we, the lame could arise and walk.

So, I'll pick up my mat and walk.

"When God sent His only Son, Jesus, to this earth to bear your sin and mine on the cross, He put a price tag on us--He declared the value of our soul to be greater than the value of the whole world." (Nancy Leigh DeMoss)

today is my last day in Toronto.

i feel immensely sad.

*warning...sentimental cheese ahead.*
brother.

I've always secretly hoped an older brother would turn up somehow. Biologically impossible, I know. But it has always been a hope of mine. Someone who would give me advice about which boys I should stay away from. Someone annoying who would come round and mess up my hair and beat up anyone who would give me grief. Someone who I would admire and would set up my girlfriends with.

Somehow, it never happened. An older, long lost, biological brother did not suddenly materialize. And yet, in many ways he did.

Tonight, I said my first REAL goodbye. It was a goodbye that mattered, because this friend matters to me. In the four years we've known each other, he has truly demonstrated to me what it means to have a brother. He's been a brother, a protector, a friend. He has listened to me complain about boys, given me good advice, and he's been supremely annoying. He has talked to me about girls, and makes me proud when talks about how he desires to guard their hearts and serve them. He's worn funny clothing, and I've been able to tease him about how he only wears primary colours. His friendship has shown me that it is indeed possible to have healthy relationships with guys and treat them like brothers.

Everyone says that Warren is the most relational person they know. I've experienced this firsthand. I experienced it the first time I met him, and had to yawn loudly to get him out of my rez room and go home. I experienced it during our weekly Tuesday lunches, and I experienced it today, as I met up with him to say goodbye.

I'll miss laughing at Warren's jokes, chastising him for not being chivalrous, teaching him how to open doors for girls, and giving him advice on how to pursue girls. I will miss his advice and I will miss his irish green clothing.

Somehow, I feel like tonight was one of the hardest goodbyes. I didn't cry when we parted ways, but I cried as I sat on the subway coming home. I'll really miss my older brother.

endings.

I've never been particularly good with endings. I detest approaching the ending of a book I'm reading, because it means I'll have to dig my teeth into another one. I hate the ending of a movie, because all of a sudden I find myself sucked back into reality. I dread approaching the ending of my bubble tea drink, because it means that I've eaten all the bubbles, and there isn't much more to look forward to.

I don't like endings.

I know that Montreal is where God has called me to. I see a need there. But moving to Montreal and starting a new life there means leaving Toronto, and ending life here. For four years, Toronto has become home, in a way Edmonton never was. This weekend, three of my guy friends helped me move all my stuff from Toronto to Montreal. They sacrificed their weekend, their time, their sleep, finances etc. to help me move. This was no small task. Friends who would do this are rare. For four years, people have shown me love and friendship in a way that I never knew could be possible. I know that when people move away, they say that they'll miss a place. It's almost cliche. But the truth is, I really will miss Toronto. I'll miss my friends, I'll miss the city, I'll miss C4C people, and I'll miss my church.

Right now, I am sitting in the middle of my room. My apartment is empty, and one of my roommates has completely moved out. The other has almost fully moved out. Goodbyes have been said, for the most part.

I am sitting here, and I am lonely.

I've never been particularly good with endings. I detest approaching the ending this Toronto chapter, because it means I'll have to dig my teeth into a new chapter. I am sad thinking about the end of Toronto, because these past months have been a blur of goodness and I know that all of a sudden I will find myself sucked back into reality.

One week and one day before I leave Toronto. One week and one day to say goodbye to everyone I love.

Let's make it good.

A friend told me today that he misses my blogs. I miss them too. I lack inspiration, and am going through a time of creative drought. I wonder if it will ever return? I'll try blogging anyways; I don't want to lose the skill completely.

i am woman...hear me roar?

"You're one of the guys, Lydia."

It's a comment I've been getting a lot recently. My church has a VERY high percentage of males. In fact on a good day, there will be 6 or 7 college/early career girls and at least 15 guys. On a bad day, when people are away at university, or a week such as last week, there will be 3 girls and 11 guys. So, you do the math. Often times, when we're hanging out, I'll find myself being the only girl, or one of two girls, in a group of guys. Like, last Sunday. Lunch: 11 boys, 1 girl.

So, the guys at church have taken to calling me one of the guys. Which, I suppose is a compliment, in some ways.

Today, one of my guy friends made a comment... "The construction site is filled with tough guys...you'd fit right in."

I know that all of these are just jokes, but sometimes they get me thinking. Being a tomboy is okay when you're 10 and feeling awkward from puberty. But when you're freshly graduated, I wonder how flattering it is to be called 'one of the guys'.

Not so much. Whenever they say it, I feel like the wind has been sucked out of my sails. Is that how they view me? As just another guy?

How do I uphold principles of biblical femininity when the guys just see me as another one of them?

This requires thought.