Love via 'Today's Temp'!

"Love will hold us together" - a beautiful song by Matt Maher.

This song got me to thinking about what it is that holds people and relationships together amidst physical distance, despite trials and misunderstandings, even with huge differences of opinion.  I think this thought of how love holds my most important relationships together has been on my mind as I continue to settle into my new home and community of Glace Bay, Nova Scotia.  Friendships and family relationships have - once again - been altered as a result of me beginning this new chapter of my life in marriage and in ministry...  And I am discovering - once again - that they remain solid and strong.  

Why?

The best way for me to describe *why* is with a story...  Half of my family now live in the United Kingdom, and other than my parents, all of us live in different communities across Canada and England.  In addition, it seems to be a regular occurrence for one or more of us to be "on the move" - travelling to some new destination.  So how is it possible for us to keep in touch when we are land masses, oceans, and time zones apart?  Well, the answer comes in a thermometer.

What?

A thermometer you ask?...  It's really quite simple...  Every few days, my Dad sends an email to all us entitled, "Today's Temp".  And included in this email is an image - a screen shot - of the thermometer that most of us have on the home page of our laptops.  What makes these particular images special is that they include the temperature for every community that the 'Wilsons' represent.  The temperature is overlaid on a picture of the weather - whether it is sunny or cloudy, day or night, raining, snowing or clear skies.  His email often has only the attached image accompanied by a lone sentence, such as the most recent, "Cloudy Glace Bay ousts all for top spot.  Dad."  And that is it.  That is the full extent of it.

How?

You might be thinking...How does this represent "love holding us together?"  Well, that simple image with a one-liner is enough to stimulate discussion, a bouncing off point for conversation between family members that keeps us up-to-date with what is happening in one another's lives!  It is like we get a sneak peek into what is going on, a picture of the places we all are - we can imagine more vividly what people are up to, even whether they are enjoying sunshine or chilly temperatures that day!  My brother may reply to tell us he is at Edmonton airport on his way to a Nunavut gold mine, or to discuss his latest renovation project.  Pooch may share a recent work debacle that leaves us all chuckling.  Or my sis, a funny story to share from one of the kids.  Whatever the news, it is shared across the miles and it begins over something as simple as a thermometer.


Love holds us together via a thermometer.  This is not to suggest that the love between my family is tentative or at risk, quite the opposite.  More that it takes very little to maintain relationships that are built on the foundation of love.  Countless other examples exist of how you - my friends - retain connections with those who mean the most to you in spite of distance and disagreements and differences, whether it is BBM, or facebook, skyping, or a pair of 8 1/2 Steve Madden shoes in the mail.  

Thank you to those who adapt and adjust to our ever-changing lives and allow love to hold us together.  (As a sidebar, who knows where these family 'today's temp' emails are headed with Dad's recent addition of a comparison between pounds sterling and the Canadian dollar!)


PS Check out the song if you don't already know it:
Matt Maher's 'Love will hold us together'

Stories.

I *heart* stories.  All stories, but especially real life ones.  I love hearing funny stories, stories of depth and redemption, stories of grace, or tales of adventure. From a very young age, I have loved stories.  Whether it was listening to my parents reading me a bedtime story, thinking I had fooled my Dad to let me stay up late while he told me a story, drinking tea with my Gran while she told me of her time in Trinidad, or laying under my blankets with a flashlight in the early hours of the morning because I was totally enthralled in the story I was reading.  I used to say to a good friend of mine, "Tell me a story."  Because,... you see,... there is nothing that I love more than sitting around with a friend discussing some story that brings both tears to my eyes and laughter that bubbles up from my gut.

So, with only a day left before I complete my last course at CFOT, I find myself glad that it is a 'Human Diversity' class we are ending with.  It is some intense stuff in this intensive, and although I feel emotionally drained, I have been in my element because,... it is ALL about the stories!  We have heard or read of the stories of the experience of aboriginal people in Canada, we have heard from recent arrivals to Canada who came from a refugee camp in Uganda, we have heard the stories of children who attended residential schools, the stories of those who are discriminated against because of their sexual identity or orientation.  And I have changed because of the POWER of personal stories.


So, if there is anything I have learned or can take away from this week, it is the importance of continuing to tell the story - to never forget where we came from, to understand and respect our differences in order to look ahead to the future.  And the only way for us to maintain history or remember events is to actually listen to people's stories - to 'really' hear what they are saying, and allow these stories to change us from the inside out.

I leave you with this question, "What's your story today?"

(First) Two Grey Hairs

Well, the inevitable has happened...  I officially have two grey hairs - not faded out from colouring, not sun-kissed, but actual grey hair!  And they are strategically placed that a number of people have found the need to tell me that I do.  My response?  A polite, "yes, I am aware."


But here is the thing.  I actually don't care.  I imagined that I would mind, but I haven't found it upsetting or traumatizing in any way.  And that was actually the biggest surprise of all - that the event passed by without tears or drama - that it was genuinely a non-issue for me.  Because I totally thought it would be.


WHY did I think I would be bothered to find grey hair?

(1)  I dye my hair.  I assumed in recent years that I was doing it in anticipation of grey hair.  It turns out it is nothing to do with that and more because of a snooty girl from church camp a decade & a half ago who told me my hair was mousy brown...  I've never forgotten that (so, sidebar: remember kids - words can hurt!); but, over time, I realize that Ms. Beautiful Chestnut Brown Hair had her own insecurities - and the 'mousy brown' comment was really compensating for that.


(2)  I used to say marks didn't matter,... until I got my first bad grade.  Turned out it did matter a little bit, so I had to work through that until I can now return to my original claim, "it isn't about the grade, but about what I have learned."


(3)  I was seriously traumatized in anticipation of two milestone birthdays - 25 & 30.  Wasn't sure how I would cope on the actual day as I was certain I was nowhere close to that age.  Then they happened,... and I can now say age is only a number (marrying someone 7 years my junior to help that thought process along)!?!?

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In summary, the grey hair is perhaps where this perspective and wisdom comes from - and if that is the case, I wouldn't trade one grey hair for an entire head of beautiful chestnut locks.  Like Samson, perhaps my strength is in my hair - and so to remove or cover these hairs would be to not acknowledge that with those 2 grey hairs comes all of my life's experiences (good & bad, sad & happy).  


I've loved my life thus far, but I have no desire to turn back the clock and return to those younger days.  I am happy exactly where I am... right now... two grey hairs & all.


 Thoughts?

The Simple Pleasures

Today, I finally caved and threw away my iron...  You see, somehow I got these weird burn streaks on the base of my iron that rubbed off onto the front collar of one of my white uniform shirts - ruining it for future wear :(.  So, tonight, I opened up the box holding a brand new iron (Sidebar 1: the iron that Josh bought prior to coming to Training College though yet to be used until tonight).  And while I blasted out my favourite tunes on my iPod and danced around in one spot, I ironed all of my uniform shirts.  One after the other, I watched the shirts go from wrinkled and slightly disheveled to a lovely, smooth pressed shirt.  Call me crazy, but there was some strange satisfaction in this monotonous act.

A simple pleasure.

And this got me to thinking, I have enjoyed a number of simple pleasures in the last week or 10 days:

- a half price, grande, extra hot, soy Tazo Chai Tea Latte from Starbucks (ok, perhaps not quite so simple)...
- a phone call with an old friend
- french toast made with Newfoundland homemade white bread and pure maple syrup (I just drooled on my keyboard a little)
- a skype chat with my Dad
- a package from Mum with a short note, new black socks and Granny underpants (honestly love that you keep me in full supply Mum)!
- early morning devotions with a cup of tea and ... absolute quiet...
- the feeling of mastering a simple song on the piano (even if it still is only with one hand)
- a late afternoon nap under my colourful rag quilt
- an 'I love you' from Josh for no particular reason
- you get where I am going with this I think...

The simple pleasures.

When my family lived in North Wales, I was 11 or 12 years old and I got my first job... a paper route.  This paper route offered borderline slave wages.  I made just over 2 pounds ($4CDN) to deliver 218 newspapers every week.  Though I would receive a *bonus* if flyers came in, my brothers would always charge me if I got their help, so no matter what, I seemed to end up with approx. $4 spending money.  Let me tell you, it was hard-earned money.  Mostly because the UK's reputation for constantly raining is true,... and I would often come home almost floating and at least 15lbs heavier from my clothes being completely water-logged.

BUT - and this is a *BIG* butt (ha ha - yes, go ahead and make the bum jokes now if you must).  Sorry, sidebar:  BUT - the thing was, I was sooo proud of my meager earnings, and I would somehow manage to stretch them to have them go such a long way.  I would happily skip a mile down the road to the Spar (the local small market/corner store) and buy myself a 33p ($0.66) pop - it was called a Supercan.  And honestly, you would've thought I had come into big money the way I was so happy with my purchase.  Maybe I would get a little snack if the money was burning a hole in my jean pocket, but honestly, to me, nothing could've brought more of a skip into my step than being able to pick up a few treats for my family and for me to enjoy my Supercan of pop on the long journey uphill back to the house.  Dad still brings up the 'Supercan' on occasion.

A simple pleasure.

We live in a world that seems so concerned with "bigger is always better".  New York City was built on a principle of *trumping* whatever had come before.  But here is what I am pondering tonight after baking some basic biscuits and finishing my ironing.  Life can be *so* good when we allow ourselves to enjoy the simple pleasures: to totally - and without guilt or shame - admit that we enjoy the simple, the inexpensive, the uncomplicated, the un-busy.  To say that "life is *so* good."  I believe this is what God intended for our lives - not always perhaps, but that we take time to enjoy those simple things...

 Whatever that 'Simple Pleasure' is for you, whether crawling under the covers early one night to read your favourite book, to put on a movie classic, to take your children to the park, to go for a walk on a cool evening...  Whatever that 'Simple Pleasure' is, I encourage you to make the time, to let the feeling of joy and absolute peace & contentment overwhelm you, to quiet your heart enough to drown out all of the sounds of chaos around you.  Even if it is something as silly as ironing or going to buy and drink a Supercan of pop...

What are your simple pleasures today?