push, pull.

in a little while (i.e. 2 hours) i will be leaving montreal for a good three weeks and one day. Week #1 will be spent working from Toronto and visiting friends, week #2 is Christmas out West and week #3 will be a frenetic week of serving students at our annual winter conference in Toronto and taking a photoshop course to enhance my design skills.

i woke up this morning and thought to myself, "I'm going home today!" Upon reflection, Toronto is no longer home. It's a place to visit. To see old friends. But it isn't home. In fact, apart from seeing good friends, it's a hassle. Living out of a suitcase as a guest in someone's house gets tiring. The friends make it worth it, and the city itself makes it worth it. But it isn't home. Going "home" to Edmonton will be nice. We're not a huge Christmas family, but it'll be nice to see my parents, and get caught up on making Christmas gifts. But aside from my parents, Edmonton isn't home either.

There is a tension that exists. I'm happy to be going "home" to all these places. But somehow I am dreaming of January 4th, when I'm back here in Montreal at home and in a regular routine. I am also longing for a day when I see my true home and greet my Master face to face for the first time.

holes.

This is a hole in our ceiling.


Actually, to be more correct, this is a hole in the ceiling of my housemate's bedroom. It was sagging for awhile from a leak. But when the snow started to melt on our roof.... it began sagging even more. One day, "Ploop" was the sound we heard...and..

VOILA!

a hole!

I seem to attract holes.

Luckily, my room does not have a hole.

I shouldn't speak too soon though. I mean, in the one month I've lived here, there has been a break in, and a peeping tom (who was most likely a roofer). A hole in the wall is just that little maraschino cherry on top of the cake. A bigger hole COULD happen. MAYBE someone will use dynamite and blow a hole in our wall. Now THAT would be a fantastic end to the 2464 household epic saga.

church.

I woke up this morning, with a sense of dread. I didn't want to head outside in the cold air and head to a church, seemingly equally as frigid. I'm sure it's not as unfriendly as I perceive it to be; I've met people who have been willing to help me put up my bookshelf, my boss and his wife go there, a girl I disciple goes there. Yet, the only person who has ever really reached out to me, without making me feel like a burden, is the pastor's wife. In the five or so weeks I have attended, I have met some people, but each week, I sit alone. Being new is hard. It requires a lot of proactivity. I am not a proactive person when it comes to meeting new people in an unfamiliar setting. January will be better, I tell myself. I will start going to Sunday school, and I will get plugged into a small group. Today was my last Sunday there until the new year. I was late coming in, sat alone, and left right after service. I didn't want to face the aloneness. There was a sense of relief to not have to play the 'new person role' for a couple of weeks.

As I think about this, I think about the recurrent theme of loneliness this year. Edmonton was a lonely time, and even before that, loneliness was something that seemed to follow me around. A shroud. I sat in service, realizing that this year, so many things have been stripped away, leaving me naked, exposed and confused. Somewhere in the midst, Jesus is there. The only constant. I am not alone.

He says, "Follow me."

This journey excites me.

Breathing. ~Lifehouse.

I'm finding my way back to sanity again,
Though I don't really know what I'm going to do when I get there.
Take a breath and hold on tight,
Spin around one more time,
And gracefully fall back to the arms of Grace.

'Cause I am hanging on every word you say and,
Even if you don't want to speak tonight that's alright,
Alright with me.
'Cause I want nothing more than to sit outside Heaven's door and listen to you breathing,
Is where I want to be.
Yeah.
Where I want to be.

I'm looking past the shadows in my mind into the truth and I'm,
Trying to identify the voices in my head.
God which one's you?
Let me feel one more time what it feels like to feel alive,
And break these calluses off of me,
One more time.

'Cause I am hanging on every word you say and,
Even if you don't want to speak tonight that's alright,
Alright with me.
'Cause I want nothing more than to sit outside your door and listen to you breathing,
Is where I want to be.
Yeah.

I don't want a thing from you.
Bet you're tired of me waiting for the scraps to fall off your table to the ground.

'Cause I just want to be here now.

'Cause I am hanging on every word you say and,
Even if you don't want to speak tonight that's alright,
Alright with me.
'Cause I want nothing more than to sit outside Heaven's door and listen to you breathing,
Is where I want to be.
Yeah.

'Cause I am hanging on every word you say and,
Even if you don't want to speak tonight that's alright,
Alright with me.
'Cause I want nothing more than to sit outside Heaven's door and listen to you breathing,
Is where I want to be.
Yeah.
Where I want to be.
Where I want to be....

from training to...youtube.

this dude is amazing.

snow.

It is snowing outside. Not just snowing, but like, hardcore snowing! There is a car parked next to my house. I do not think it'll be going anywhere, anytime soon. If I weren't heading to Ontario for training today, I'd probably go snowboarding RIGHT away. The pow would be AMAZING.

However, since I am going to training... i feel like the next best thing to snowboarding....will be... going shooting. So i am going to load up my camera and head outside!

Toodles for the week!

P.S. Today is my friend Warren's birthday. If you see him, tell him happy birthday. If you do not see him, tell a random stranger on the street that it is Warren's birthday. DOO ITTT NOW!

Vespa Vagabond.

On a much less creepy and much more fun note..


AHHH THIS IS AMAZING!!!!!!!

Butt Naked.

I was standing in my bathroom, undressed, with my arm under the shower, waiting for the water to heat up, when i looked up at the skylight and saw a man standing, staring at me, whilst i was butt naked.

i am going to choose to believe that he was a roofer. Because if he was not a roofer, and just a sketchy man, I would probably desire to move immediately.

Yield.

Transparency. People have been telling me I'm a transparent person. I guess I am. I generally don't shy away from saying what I'm thinking or feeling. But if you've been following my blog, you've probably noticed I've been a bit more guarded this month. Probably still more transparent than most people, but guarded nevertheless.

People always ask me how I'm doing. And in my head, I've had this misconception that life as a missionary is going to be full of adventure and glory. They'll ask, and I'll respond, "I'm doing good," "Just adjusting, but overall good."

"Are you having fun?"
"Yeah I am."

I do not elaborate. To my ears, my words are flat and dull and lacking truth.

Truth is, this month has been hard. I dread certain days more than others, and I've spent this whole month pondering the idea of not returning to staff and full-time missions/ministry next year. I spend some days feeling bored and unchallenged. Other days, I'm bored because the challenge is so crippling, I feel I can't rise to it and take hold of it by the horns. Approaching the 5th week of being here, I'd really been questioning my calling, spending time dwelling on how much I miss Toronto and how much I'd like to do other things like design or photography or both. On Sundays, I'd head to church, tired after a full week of meeting all new people, and feel lonely and tired upon my return home, having met a host of new people, but not really clicking with anyone. The inundation with French, a language that I know but yet do not know, the loneliness of being apart from family and my church family, the frustration of not knowing my way around and wanting to reach certain goals but feeling crippled by my situation, makes me realize that missions isn't full of glory. It isn't an adventure. It's hard. A lot of the time, it requires plodding away, diligently at mundane tasks. And the more I stay here, the more I realize things I've sacrificed to be here. For the past few weeks, the thought that has kept me going hasn't been a compelling vision of reaching Montreal, but the thought that I could move back to Toronto at the end of the year, quit staff and do something easier. Something more enjoyable.

Yesterday, I was in Toronto for a visit. People at church were asking me how my time in Montreal has been. My first inclination was to reply with the flat and lacklustre, "It's going well," but it became too flat for my ears, so instead, when my pastor's wife asked me, I replied, "It's hard." No elaboration. Just that. She turned and pointed to the powerpoint slide, which contained the title of the message that the guest speaker would preach on.

"Following God is not always easy, but it is always good."

I told her that I was not ready to hear a convicting message.

But hear, did i ever! A missionary on furlough from Kazakhstan shared three points.

1. we need to yield control of our future and our work to God.

As soon as I heard this, I knew God was speaking to me. Though I know God has called me to Montreal, I've been living with the idea of controlling that final decision come June. I've been stubborn and unwilling to consider staying here another year, and desiring to find different work, despite knowing that God has called me here.

2. we need to yield our priorities.

The speaker then went on to describe how God has certain priorities that need to take place above ALL other things in our lives. Namely, His glory and His glory alone. He talked about how the gospel NEEDS to be preached. He said these words, "We talk of the second coming. half the world has never even heard of the first. The question isn't 'Is God going to be building his kingdom?' but rather, 'Are we going to join Him and allow Him to use us in this endeavour?'"
As I thought about this, I realized that for the past 5 weeks, life has been very ME centered and not very GOSPEL centered. I've lacked joy because MY "needs" haven't been fulfilled, when all along, Jesus has been saying, "YOUR greatest need was fulfilled on the cross. But those around you in Montreal, don't even REALIZE they have a need."

3. We need to yield our pride.

"The axe cannot boast of the trees that it has cut down. It could do nothing but for the woodsman. He made it, he sharpened it, and he used it. The moment he throws it aside, it becomes only old iron. O that I may never lose sight of this."
~Samuel Brengle.

In the service, a voice spoke to my heart saying, "Montreal is where I want you to be. Will you yield to me? Will you yield your control, your priorities, your pride and your desires to me?"

After the service, I was asked to share a bit about Montreal. I broke down. I cried in front of my whole english congregation. How mortifying. In sharing about Montreal, my heart of frustration and loneliness spilled out. In sharing, I realized, for perhaps the first time, the condition of my heart. I cried and begged for prayer, seeing the depravity that exists in my heart. Truth is, at this point in time, I KNOW Montreal is where God desires me to be. But I myself do not feel much as though I want to be here. Don't get me wrong, I love the staff team and the students are just so kind and gracious. But it is SO much easier to think about how I could be doing other things, in a city where my church family, whom I love so dearly is, and where some of my best friends are. It's so much easier to think about waking up in a place where language isn't a frustration, and where I don't need to constantly be reading maps or meeting new people.

Following God isn't easy. I'm not wired to follow Him. It's a choice that is made each day to continue pressing onwards. I'm realizing that missions isn't always a happy thing, full of fun and blue skies and sunny days. It's hard. It's depressing. I'll be honest. But Jesus never said things would be easy. In fact, He tells those who desire to follow Him, to pick up their cross. A cross is an excruciating, painful, heavy beast of a thing. What DOES ensue, however, from yielding control to Him is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

I want those things.

May I yield over my control to Him and say, "Yes Lord, I will follow You in this endeavour, as you build up your Kingdom, person by person, here in Montreal."

ridiculous.

it's ridiculous that i'm up at 3am because i'm scared someone else is in the house. someone unwanted. i'm not usually this jumpy, but tonight i'm so paranoid, i'm seriously typing slowly so that the clicking of my keyboard is unheard.

When i was on the phone at 11pm with my friend Jesskah, I kept telling her I thought someone was in my house. Eventually she told me to shut up or go check. The thought of me being unarmed and facing an intruder......i shut up. Concurrently, my friend Francis had to convince me to go pee because i was scared to leave my room.

i've gotten altogether about 1 hr of sleep. Restless sleep. I just woke up because i heard a huge BOOM come from outside my room. But, i don't want to go check to see what has happened...I'm sure something has fallen or something else..but i don't want to check because....see above paragraph.

as i said..i'm not usually this jumpy when i'm alone. I've never felt this anxious. I don't know why tonight my sympathetic NS is going up the wazoo. Maybe it's the week of bad dreams I've had that there's an intruder in the house.

woo. i know my roommate doesn't want to move. and i really like living with this roommate. But next year, i think i need to move somewhere where there's security.

i'm gonna crash tomorrow during all the meetings.

thoughts in my head.

for how long?
why?

there are so many thoughts, going round and round.
this isn't easy. but it's not hard. at least, not in the way i imagined it would be.
it's not what i thought it would be like.

i feel unchallenged, but at the same time unmotivated. ineffective. no one's fault but my own.
i wonder a lot, but feel trapped. stupid. when i voice my thoughts.

i'm bored. i feel like i should be really excited. like i should power through the day, grateful to BE.

but now that i am in such a place, i wonder...is this all there is?

there are great things. people. place. time. but the restlessness continues, and i don't even know what i am yearning for.

a picture of a man falling 60 feet, dying, and not knowing Jesus continues to haunt me. a man i did not know. i cry for him sometimes.

shopaholic? (for a limited time a.k.a today only)

Today, was a brilliant shopping day. I LOVE matt and nat, and it's made my blog a couple of times. Well, it's making it again, simply because, today I became very metropolitan, and along with some friends attended a Matt and Nat sample sale!!!!! I am now the proud owner of the largest bag ever.... a $135 dollar bag reduced more than 50%!

I also purchased a fall/early winter jacket, because the girls here in Montreal are way too hip... and I desire to be hip too.

This post is highly superficial, and I'm feeling the superficiality. Ah well. Jess Wynja, you are probably the only reader who will appreciate this post.

week 3.

I've been doing a lot of wrestling in the past couple of weeks. I haven't come to any conclusions. I don't know if what I'm hearing is of me, or of God. It's been confusing, and adjusting while confused is tiring.

But today, while I was sitting and talking to a girl about what she thought of Christianity, I distinctly thought to myself, "This is what I love doing."

And the girl said, "What must I do?"

"Believe."

I don't know if she'll "choose" to believe or not. But I do know that when God calls, He is irresistible.

May He be irresistible to me too.

Then he brought them out and said, "Sirs, what must I do to be saved?" And they said, "Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household." And they spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all who were in his house. And he took them the same hour of the night and washed their wounds; and he was baptized at once, he and all his family. Then he brought them up into his house and set food before them. And he rejoiced along with his entire household that he had believed in God. ~Acts 16:30-34.

Random thoughts while I wait for my bagel to toast.

• One of the things that drew me to my church in Toronto was that I could have a stalled car in the parking lot, not belong to the church at all, and someone would still come out and help me. They're just that friendly. Coming to Montreal, I prayed that I would find a church where people would be caring enough to help a stranger. Last night, two people I had met just hours before, came to my house to help me assemble my bookshelf even though it was already 10pm and dark out.

• Yesterday, I started unpacking. I set up my bookshelf, set up my bed (finally!), and took some of my clothing out of their boxes. For the past week and a half, I've been really tired, in part because of huge changes, but also because of the huge disorganization in my house. A disorganized house, for me, is unsettling. This morning is the first morning I've woken up not feeling as though a truck had run over me. My room is far from unpacked, but even just getting the major things up and tidied is such a huge relief! I feel energized! A neat and tidy home is a happy home!

• Yesterday I had da been lo (Chinese Hot Pot). Miam miam!

• Last Tuesday, when I was on campus at UdeM I was petrified of approaching people with my horrible anglo french. But this week, I was reminded that I'm in a war, and that in a war, you get muddy and you gotta stop caring about how your hair looks. I'm a hugely prideful person, and I hate being humbled. Speaking French is humbling. It is a reminder of how inadequate I am. But, I took a faith step, and approached some people (with a Francophone right by my side, mind you) and loved it! I have a feeling that I'm going to come out of every Tuesday being fried...but I'm excited. Wars are devastating...but kinda exciting too. Especially when you know that in the end, the War has already been won.
  

• Today is my dear friend Aban's birthday. She is the cutest girl ever, and I miss her muchly.

• I organized the books on my bookshelf by colour. It is very rainbowesque.

Time to jet. Gotta do some final prep for my discipleship group today and then head out the door!

introvert. extrovert?

You know, when I was in Edmonton, I always felt really tired. I'd wake up at 9 or 10am, and 2 hours later, I'd be tired. The only time I felt alive was when I met up with friends-- something that only happened once, maybe twice, a week.

Now, I'm here in Montreal, and this week has been exhausting. Most mornings I've woken up feeling like I've been hit by a truck. No joke. Meeting new people every day has been draining--I hate small talk-- and coming home and spending my free time painting walls instead of reading or sleeping or crafting or playing music hasn't alleviated any tiredness.

I realize that I'm not a full out introvert, but neither am i a full out extrovert . I love people, but I need the right kinds of people to recharge and I also need to be okay with being alone sometimes. A lot of the time, I say yes to doing things with people because I feel that if I don't, I'll miss out on some cool adventure. Truth is, I need to establish boundaries so that I can stay a happy person. Sometimes it'll mean I need to find people to hang out with. Other times it'll mean that I have to say a firm NO, so that I can be alone.

Moving is hard. It's a lot of small talk. Don't get me wrong, the Montreal staff team is absolutely amazing, and all the students I've met have been so great. I'm so excited to get to work with them. I know I'll love hanging out with them and that eventually I'll find the right people to recharge with. But this whole week, I've said yes to every invitation to hang out with people. In part, this has been because I am fearful of feeling lonely, like I did in Edmonton, or that if I say no, people won't ask me to hang out again. Also, I really want to get to know people, and I know that I need to hang out to do so.

Despite the great times that have been had (and there have been MANY), this past friday night was probably the most relaxing time of the week. I sat in my kitchen, read blogs, talked to some friends I hadn't talked to in a long while on msn, and basically did nothing, all alone. It was so nice to just be ALONE. This is something I never thought I'd say, whilst I was in Edmonton.

Anyways, it's late, and I'm going to go to bed. I'm tired. This blog feels very piece-y and kinda jumbled.


going...



going...




gone.

teaser.

I haven't spent much time with my camera lately. I rarely edit pictures, partially out of laziness, partially because I don't want to rely on edits to get the shot I want...but of the pictures I have taken lately, so many of them were taken with the improper ISO or white balance that I feel slightly irresponsible putting them up without edits. However, I have neither the time nor the energy to put in some editing work....so... enjoy what little there is! I know most people have been asking for pictures of my house or what not...but you don't want to see my house right now. It's a dump.

Most of these are from a visit to the chinese lantern festival on Monday. You can view them here: Shutter Release starting on the October 29th date. Dates do not correspond to when the pictures were shot.

mia.

i know i've been mia recently. You KNOW you're an msn addict when people start emailing you, asking if you're alive...solely with the reason that you haven't been on msn in awhile.

Life is busy, and I feel like there are so many things to do in my personal life...and in every aspect of life. I haven't unpacked any of my boxes yet, my room is not yet fully painted, and my furniture (which I finally bought last night) is not set up yet.

There aren't enough hours in a day, and though I used to scoff at all my friends who would be in bed by 11, yesterday I stayed up till midnight to finish some ministry stuff and at that point, I was seriously dying of tiredness. I am an old woman.

Alongside this busyness that comes with a new life, a new transplant, comes learning new boundaries. I went from seeing maybe one or two people a week to meeting new people everyday, and seeing people every day. Though I am not an introvert, I am no extrovert. Too many people and too few of the right kinds of people is really draining.

I'm not complaining. Though I thought I would be really lonely here, I'm not. The staff are all too kind, and I have a great roommate. I am missing people though. I feel a sudden disconnect from everything I knew. Aside from one or two people, I have not talked to any of my friends from my church in Toronto, nor any of my other Toronto friends. I have the best intentions to email, but I don't yet have my own room, my own internet connection, and even time for myself. I don't like this disconnect, but I feel as though it will be around for the next while, while I build myself a home.

Other than that, pictures will soon come. I know people have been asking.

My baking/snacks for my small group bible study are now done. I need to take them out of the oven and get ready to leave the house. My need to go and spend a bit of time with Jesus is great. I have not done so for awhile and if I'm going to lead women, I need to follow Someone.

Have yourselves a great afternoon.

In Monts.

Well, here i am. It's been a crazy time. I arrived on Friday night, went to Home Depot on Saturday and essentially washed my walls and primed the walls all day. Last night, the staff had a "Lydia is done MPD celebration", so we had a great dinner etc. Good times.

With all the busyness, I haven't really had time to be lonely, or even think about where I'm at with life. People have asked me what I'm most excited about ,being in Montreal. To be honest, I haven't thought much about ministry etc. It seems almost easier (or, more importantly, less scary) to think about painting my walls, or unpacking, or buying furniture.

I went to church this morning. I'm kind of on a church-shopping spree. For me, the most comfortable thing to do, would probably be to go to Montreal Chinese Alliance. I'm a Chinese Alliance baby and it's such a comfort zone for me. But I realize, that choosing a church, simply because it's familiar, probably isn't the most wise thing. I need to consider that I'm going to be doing full-time ministry and therefore need to go somewhere that I can be fed. But I also want to consider the needs that there are at various churches in Montreal, and respond to that need accordingly. I also know that I need to consider which churches will be supportive of my ministry; I'll be needing a good support base here, apart from my staff team.

It's just a really big shift. I'm so used to being in the thick of things, always knowing what's going on, knowing where I'll be and where I'll go. This is different. In almost all aspects of my tangible life, I feel like I'm on the fringe of things, wondering how I fit into the puzzle. I'm glad Jesus stays the same. Even so, I wonder how much I know Him.

I'm also wondering which paint roller to use, now that both have been used up.

***

addendum: The more I explore, the more I think I will love Montreal. Sure, the people walk extremely slowly...but there's so much to see. So much to photograph. I can't wait to make friends and go exploring even more. It IS a huge change, and life is different...but I can see myself here.

Change.

I just switched my facebook network from Toronto, ON to Montreal, QC. Funny enough, my hand hesitated for more than a few minutes before clicking "join network". I know it's such a silly little thing, but there have been many times in the past couple of months that I've come to the realization that Toronto is no longer my home.

I'm not very good with change. Actually, most of the time, I detest big change. Small change, I can deal with... like what I'll eat for lunch, or what time I'll wake up in the morning. But I'm not very good with big change. It's kind of ironic then, that the organization I work for recently changed it's name to Power to Change.

I hated the change at first.

Today, the president of our organization, Leonard Buhler came to Edmonton to visit. I joined the Edmonton staff team and a couple of others to chat with him. He said that we need our organization to embrace change. "Bill Bright was a man who was willing to experiment, to change the messaging (but not the foundations), and to try out new things in order to remain culturally relevant," he said. "We want our staff to be leaders who are always trying new things, writing out new drafts, and embracing change. As an organization, it would be dangerous for us to get stuck in a rut."

Hmm..

I know this move to Montreal is good for me. I know it's what I've wanted for so long. I know it is what God has called me to do. But I've kinda gotten used to being in a rut here in Edmonton. I've gotten used to the pattern of boredom and facebook. I've gotten used to relying on my parents. Moving to Montreal means big change. It marks a time of financial independence. It marks closure to my time in Toronto. To my time in Edmonton. It's a shift from me being a child to a semi-adult.

I don't like this change.

My hairdresser asked me if I had just graduated from high school.

I'm not ready for this change! Or at least, I do not FEEL ready for this change.
It marks a shift from me being a student to being a missionary.
A missionary? ME?
I'm not good with the unfamiliar. It scares me. What if's scare me.
I'm not good with change, because change means unpredictability. It means that I can't control what goes on.

You know, in Edmonton, I've been lonely. But while I've been here, I've been able to say, "Well, it's okay. I'll be booking a plane ticket outta here and the loneliness will end."
But what if this shift, this move to Montreal, marks a new period of loneliness? I won't have control, and won't be able to book a plane ticket out of Montreal.

This change is big. Somehow, ruts seem very appealing at times. They seem safe. Comforting.

wanted: sawhorses.

Does anyone know where I can find cheap, wooden sawhorses? I've looked at Canadian Tire and Home Depot, but most of them are metal or plastic. Rona has a cute sawhorse, but it's $39.96, which is kinda pricey, and I'd need a pair.

Hmm.... maybe I can make them myself.

Hmm.... who'm I kidding? Until last week, I didn't even know what a stud was! I didn't know that I should screw floating shelves into a stud.

ha.

workaholic.

Can anyone PLEASE tell me WHY, whenever the opportunity presents itself, I overbook myself, and cause myself undue stress?

For example:

Why would I choose to do my monthly newsletter by HAND instead of doing all of it on the computer?

I'm an idiot.

Well...at least, during the times that I find myself the most bored in Edmonton (between 9am-4pm), for the next 2 days, I will not be able to complain.

Mostly, because... I will not even have time to breathe.

Hi, my name is Martha.

Did i ever tell you...

How much I hate shopping for boots? Well, now you know. I hate boot shopping.

Firstly, I just don't get the ABUNDANCE of boots with massively high heels. I understand that some people might like dress boots for work and such....but when 95% of boots have heels, it just puzzles me.

See, I'm under the impression that people wear boots in the WINTER when it SNOWS. And while I realize that some girls are trapeze artists and can balance in heels on ICE (that's TALENT, for sure!), I sure as heck cannot.

Then, there are the nineties looking cowboy biker boots. Now, I know that I live in Alberta, but GOSH, there is NO excuse for these:



Nor is there an excuse for these:



Gosh, even Ferris Bueller's girlfriend wore "nicer" boots, and that was in 1986!


Last year, I bought a pair of cute boots.



They are easy to walk in, lined with some sort of faux fur (so they're extremely warm)...and generally just a happy pair of boots! That is..until I'd step in snow. Then, life would change and for the rest of the day, my feet would be miserable and cold. Nonetheless, I still love them, and they still make a great fall boot.

Today, I knew I had to buy a pair of boots that I could use to trek in slush and snow. Last winter, my feet were perpetually wet and perpetually cold. I've heard that Montreal is colder than Toronto in the winter, and since I won't have a car, and won't be living 5 minutes from campus, I knew that I had to invest in something practical. Problem being, anything practical is just so ugly!

For example:
Who actually wears these? I can't decide. Is it an elf? Or a cowgirl? Or maybe a native cowgirl who also desires to be elfish? I don't know.

Or how about these:



I'm sure I wore some deviation of this when I was 5 years old and bubble jackets were still in...but I'm 21, not 5, and silver bubble jackets went out of style in 1995.

So, as you can see, going boot shopping was a pain today. Maybe I'm just picky, and hey, if you have any of the boots listed above, I'm sure you make them work somehow. You'd think, in the world's largest shopping mall, one wouldn't need to look too hard to find a pair of boots. But we looked in almost every shoe store....

This is how I know God answers prayer. At the last shoe store, I was desperate, and prayed, "Lord, help me find the right boots, because this is INSANE."

And.....

voila!



They're waterproof, they match my brown winter jacket, the foot shape is almost exactly the same as my other pair (I'm all about the rounded toes) but they're about half the height, AND they have birds on them! BIRDS! I'm ALL about birds this season. Anyways, they're probably something I would've worn when I was 5, and they're definitely not haute couture...but hey, at least I'll be able to walk on ice AND retain SOME semblance of dignity, without looking like I'm an elf, a biker, Mia Sara in 1986 or a 5 year old in the winter at recess with chunky boots.

P.S. If you saw any of the above boots, and for some reason or other, desire to purchase them (I can only hope, to dress up for halloween), all of them, other than the two pairs i own, are available at any Aldo store in Canada. And yes, I DID see all of the above today, while I was at the mall. So I DO know that they are in stock.

well...it's official...

i'm moving to Monts on....Friday.

I (THINK) I AM....

.....DONE
......at 100%
...... MOVING TO MONTREAL!
I KNOW I AM....

.....EXCITED
.....LOVED BY THE KING
.....MARVELING AT THE POWER OF PRAYER.
.....AMAZED
.....scared.

"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.