Would You Say That Too..

Today I was watching an interview where the actress had been given a bad review for her physically messy appearance in a movie. When faced with the person who had written the article, she asked him about this scenario: "If your daughter one day comes home from an interview and was told that they wouldn't hire her because she was not attractive enough, would you say 'oh that makes sense?'" Upon hearing this the author was appalled and proclaimed that he would never say that! The actress looked at him and said, 'just remember that when you write a bad review because of a woman's appearance in a movie, you are also tearing down girls who are reading it'... I think we just get into the habit of tearing people down and we need to build them up."

While the words may not be exactly what she said, Melissa McCarthy had a very good point. In today's society, women are still judged by their appearance; for all that we advertise and promote beauty within. There are still people, child or adult, who say negative things about woman's appearances, wittingly or not.

Celebrities do take a hard hit with this. One artist, a Mrs. Kelly Clarkson, has been on the brunt end of a lot of negativity with her weight gain after having her baby girl. Her response in an interview to the criticism is also encouraging. "I think what hurts my feelings for people is that I'll have a meet and greet after the show and a girl who's like bigger than me will be in the meet and greet and be like, 'Wow, if they think you're big I must be so fat to them.' You're just who you are. We are who we are-whatever size."

Both Melissa and Kelly are brilliant in their opinions when it comes to body images. I'll be honest. I've struggled with my body image for a good chunk of my life, still do in fact. This is made all the more fun now that I am pregnant and starting to show. It's hard to change your perception of your body when, for so long, you thought a certain way; and society encourages it to a large extent. But now I have more incentive to work on changing how I think. Now, I turn sideways when I'm in the washroom and I look in the mirror and I smile because my shirt is no longer able to hide my growing stomach. Rather than fluffing out my shirt so it drapes nicer, I'm pulling it in tighter to see how much my kid has grown since last week.

It does help that I have fantastic men in my life who, rather than criticize me for my size, are constantly telling me how beautiful I am. If you are a woman and there is a man who is telling you otherwise then ditch him! My father called me, and still does, gorgeous all my life. It was his nickname for me. I used to roll my eyes and say that he was supposed to think I was because I was his daughter. He would smile and say "that doesn't make it any less true." My husband is also quick to call me beautiful and affirm me whenever I complain about my looks. He actually gets exasperated with me if I argue with him! So, while I know that beauty is self confidence in yourself, words do carry a lot of weight!

So, I challenge you with the same thought that Melissa had. Before you speak negatively about a woman, or even yourself, think about your future or current daughter... would you say that negative thing to her? Would you want her to feel that way? Let's be comfortable as we are, no matter appearances or size. Let's look in the mirror and at each other and say "you are beautifully gorgeous"... and mean it.

Someone Else to Someone

Ever watch the news? When something bad happens, are you ever glad that it isn't happening to you? Sure, your horrified, and you feel bad for the person, but in the back of your mind you would rather it be them than you. When we are warned, as children, about horrible tragedies, we always seem to feel as if that event would never happen to us, but would happen to someone else.

Let me show you the flaw in that kind of thinking: Inevitably, at some point, we are that "someone else" to someone.

These last few days we have been that "someone else." We have slept with one eye open, our arms secure around our loved ones, fearful of every noise. Those who don't believe in prayer have been brought to their knees and those who do believe in prayer have prayed constantly. Men have fallen and women and children have cried. Suddenly, all the violence that we hear about in other cities was in our own back yard.

In all my wildest imaginings, it never crossed my mind that I would live in a city where the words 'manhunt' would be predominant in our newspapers. The idea that the 'bad guy' was so close was unreal and unnerving.We were all worried and scared. All I wanted to do was hold my hubby and stay inside.

By mid day yesterday, June 5, the streets were barren and everyone was at home. No one ventured out. Everyone held their breath. The fine people in the RCMP, worked round the clock to make our city, our back yard, safe again. Even though we were not prepared for what happened, the RCMP was quick to respond and they did an astounding job. They allowed us the privilege of fear and worry. They risked their lives so that we could hold our loved ones, while their loved ones could only hold each other and watch.

David Ross, Fabric Georges Gevaudan, and Douglas James Larche laid down their lives for us on Wednesday, June 4th. They will never come home to their families. To think that someone can be so quickly brought down by a man-made instrument strikes home the fragility of life. To think that all of the hard work of mothers in labor can easily be erased in only seconds, makes my heart pound with fear for the those that I love. These men should not die in vain. We should learn from the way that these men lived.

They loved passionately and they fought valiantly. To be a good RCMP officer, you need to believe in what you protect and be quick to face dangers so that other do not have to. They still feel fear because they are human and they should. It is this fear that makes them hero's when they left everything behind to protect our streets. It is because of this fear that they are brave. It is those three names that I will remember and respect.

The last couple of days we have been that someone else. And while we were not prepared, we did survive and we will continue to thrive. We need to use this experience to bring us closer together as a community and as a family. If we don't take it upon ourselves to love others as Jesus loves us and pray as a first defence, rather than a last defence, than those RCMP officers who have lost their lives will have lost them in vain and we will always be that "someone else" to someone.

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Loudest words spoken

There was once I knew an eccentric woman,

Though some may have called her strange,

Her actions were the loudest words spoken,

Each person she met experienced a change.

For some it may have been passing,

For others a lifelong trek.

For help she never was asking

On others she’d rather check.

Her love for her family and friends

Was more than words can express

To each event she was bound to attend

And she always had the best dress.

Though she is in heaven, smiling from above,

I’ll always remember that eccentric woman

Who taught me that family was a labor of love

And that actions were the loudest words spoken.

~ In loving memory of Mary Lee Weiler

What is Easter to you?

Easter.... what's the first image that comes comes mind? Is it bunny rabbits? or maybe eggs? or how about the look on your child's face as they break open the chocolate and find candy inside the hollowed out bunny? The word "Easter" typically conjures up such wonderful images. As children it seemed we looked forward to Easter in much the same way as we looked forward to Halloween. It doesn't hold quite the same place in our minds as Christmas or our birthday, as those are days when we receive 'substantial' gifts; but we do get sweets and things at Easter, so it's worth noting in many young minds.

I wonder how many children in today's society think about the greatest gift that was ever given on this planet we call Earth? See, at Christmas we speak of the greatest gift ever given, Jesus Christ as God coming to live with us; not among us, mingling about, but as one of us, with all of our hurts and joys. But there was a second gift that was give to us and it arrived on Easter. See if God had just come down to live with us, that would have been spectacular in itself. However, if he had not died on Good Friday, and then rose again on Easter, would we be worshiping a Risen Savior?

How would our world look if Jesus had not risen on that long ago Easter morning? Well, nine times out of ten, I would not be writing this down. I am a 'gentile' as the scholars call us; not a Jew. I would probably not attend church and I probably would not have the belief that I have now. But then, who am I to speculate what could have been? When I let my mind wander, and I try to picture a world where Jesus stayed in his grave, it is not a pretty picture that I see. Jesus didn't just give us an example of what we should do in our day to day lives. He gave us an instruction manual for a life-style. This manual consists of two words: Self-sacrificing Love.

How many times have I gone through life and not done the right thing because I was afraid of what the results would cost me? Maybe my reputation, relationships, good opinions, or worldly goods would be lost. My mind would weigh the cost and if I found the value of what I would loose to high, I would be tempted to shy away from the hard option of my choice. I would wish to go the easier road, rather than the one "less traveled by," to coin a phrase. Jesus did not make the easy choice. Because he was human he did ask for an easier rout, but He decided to die for us because that was what was necessary for our salvation.

What do you think of when you think of Easter? Myself, I think of the sacrifice that was given on my behalf. I remember that if it were not for the gift that I had been given, I would be living a very different life right now. When I think of how hard life is and how much I wish it could be simpler, I need to remember that my life is simpler, because Jesus took the burden that I would have otherwise been living with. I am free today because Jesus loved me enough to give me the gift of his life; the prime example of self-sacrificing love. What is Easter to you?

Imagination

My breath caught as I watched the fight. It was the fiercest one that I had ever seen. The land was at stake. Everything that we knew and loved would be lost if he lost this fight and there was nothing I could do about it. My heart pounded as I saw blow after blow just miss it's target by a breath. I was ready for anything, but if they hurt him, they were dead.

Superhero Max fought valiantly against the Evil Nicholas. SM was the strong and true one who worked to save the planet from the evil plots that EN dished out over and over again. It was always amazing to see how many times EN failed. We always wondered at such a stupid villain.

There are many times in my life when I watch a child and I see that they are in their own universe with their own people and stories. They may tell me all about it and I may have no clue what they said but I do know that in their world, all things work out well. Nothing can truly harm them because they always come out on top. I know this because my brother and I did the same thing.

See, unlike today's children, to whom seem to enjoy a computer or TV more than the great out doors, my brother and I had the delight of playing outside, snow or shine, and coming up with our own games and fun. What I particularly liked about these imaginary games was that we could be whoever we wanted to be, and to heck with what anyone else thought. Ben loved Dragon Tales growing up, so he wanted to be Superhero Max, after the little boy in the show. I was always a bit of an odd ball (still am ^.-) and a hippie, so I went by the name of Hearts. Yes, as time went on the names changed to Bennie and Kelsena to now Gage and Emer, but the plot never truly changed. We still were fighting some form of evil and we were still winning.

I always joke around by saying that if you move a lot then you are either a military family or a pastors family. We are a pastors family, and as a result, we moved around a lot later in life. Some say that it is because we moved around a lot that we are such good friends. However, I believe that we were the best of friends long before we became a pastors family and started moving around. I think that it started with SM and Hearts against EN.

To this day my brother is still one of my best friends.  I've found that I can talk to him about anything. He's grown into a man of few words (some would say that's my fault from a young age) and therefore does not open up to a lot of people. I always find it funny when I tell someone that I had a two hour long conversation with my brother because they seemed shocked to find out that he knows more than the words 'k' and 'fine.' In fact, I'll be honest, it's strange to see him have a conversation with anyone else. Gaming conversations don't count, the subject matter is provided.

My brother is brilliant and he is working to get his B.A. and is hoping to continue further in his studies. Where he ends up only God knows. But there is one lesson that I hope he never forgets amid life and it's the same lesson I learned long ago; If you have the will and the determination to beat what ever obstacles are in your way, what you dream in your imaginary world just might come true and you just might end up on top.

Our Story

                When I woke up that morning, I was exhausted. I had slept, but my body still felt groggy and sluggish. I slowly got dressed and started planning for my day. I had two tests: Old Testament and New Testament.  I had been studying the night before and my brain was running through the Hebrew order of the books of the Old Testament and the layout of the temple for the New Testament . As I ate breakfast I ran through the copious amount of notes that I had scribbled down on an old file folder; making notes alongside all my other notes.

                When I arrived at the university my boyfriend was waiting for me. I quickly gave him a kiss and a hug and then settled down in the great hall to study some more. I even ditched my first class so that I could study for my second class, which was Old Testament. Out of the two tests that I had had before hand I had passed one and failed another. I was as determined as I had ever been not to fail this one, else I’d have to take the class again since there was no exam; or that was what I feared anyway. All around me was a blur. I don’t remember if I talked to anyone or if anyone talked to me. I did know that my boyfriend was sitting next to me but that was about it.

                After my test I was feeling a smidgen better. Old Testament was the one that I had been the most worried about and the one that I had studied the hardest for. New Testament I knew enough to finally pass one of the tests so I wasn’t too worried about it. My boyfriend and I decided to go to worship chapel before the test to give me a break from studying. Throughout the chapel he held my hand and occasionally would smile at me. I’d smile back and sing some more. Afterwards he suggested that we go to the lecture hall so that I could finish studying for New Testament.

                When we entered into the lecture hall there was only one other person there. I shrugged and continued walking up the steps but, behind me, my boyfriend said “ah crap.” I just shrugged again. He wasn’t going to interrupt our studying so I didn't see the point in being annoyed that he was there. I just sat down at our usual seats, second row from the back for this particular class, and started pulling my books out and preparing to study. After a few moments by boyfriend took my hand and said off handily, “this is where we first met, isn’t it?”

                I looked up from my studying and said, “yup, it was actually the row below us.” After a moment of silence I looked up again and he was smiling at me. “Oh no,” I said. “Oh yes,” he said and then got down on one knee in the little isle in front of his seat, smiling, his other hand was behind his back.  “Brianna Lynn deJong, I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” I grinned and bounced up and down in my seat, my studying momentarily forgotten, as I said yes I would marry him.

                This has pretty much been the definition of our relationship from before our engagement to years after our wedding. Our engagement was no easy swim and our marriage is most certainly not always a walk in the park. Sometimes it feels as if I’ve gotten into something above my head and I’m just barely able to breath for the stress. Josh has been one of the only constants in the last almost three years of our marriage, four years, almost five, if you count how long we’ve known one another. He knows what to say to calm me down or distract me from my stress and he knows what to say to allow me to let out how I actually feel, rather than pretend that I’m ok, as I do with many others. There are days where I think to myself, by golly what did I do to marry this man and then he does something and I remember why I said ‘I do.’

                At one point in time during our engagement, someone from church asked me what I loved about Josh. I didn’t really even have to think. My instant response was that he could make me smile, even when I hated him. There are sometimes when choosing to love is not easy. But if there is one thing that Josh has taught me over the years, it is how to choose to love. My goodness, I’m not claiming to be any good at it.  In fact, there are some days where I downright suck at it, and then I get angry at myself for not doing what I should to be the best wife that I can be. When he notices this he just smiles, gives me a big hug and says that I am the best wife he could ever ask for. He still loves me no matter what and shows this to me daily. It took me a while, I’ll admit, to even notice the little things that he did to show his love. Now when he does something as simple as draw me a bubble bath I get giggly and I can’t help but smile.

Some may say that we are still in our ‘honey moon’ stage and that those feelings will pass. I like to try to be a bit optimistic. Choosing to love another human being in the way that the recipient feels loved is what can save many marriages. I’m not going to lie. There are sometimes when I am a very selfish person and I want what I want and that’s just the way it’s going to be. My husband is not like that. He is a very giving person, opinionated to the ridiculous sometimes, but giving. He thrives on service and to not volunteer to help out at church or at work is just weird to him. I honestly am not geared that way, though I’m learning and quickly. I thrive on encouragement. If my husband tells me that I can write a novel and get it published than I’ll work my hardest when I’m working on is and it will be great. If someone tells me that I can’t write a novel and have it published, I’ll work on it just to prove them wrong and it will be mediocre at best. My husband is my encourager and because he is so bluntly honest, I know that when he encourages me, he truly believes what he is saying and is not just saying it to ‘stay out of the dog house’ as it were. I believe that if we hold fast to our faith and hold fast to our constant choice to love each other in the best way we can, that our relationship will survive anything. Besides, we already said that the only way we can get rid of each other is if one of us killed the other, and to be quite frank, I’d miss my hubby far too much to do that.

Mouthing My Lines

I was standing on the stage with the lights blinding me so that I could not see the audience. I was wearing a cardboard box decorated to looks like a Christmas present and I had a big red bow in my hair. Beside me was a boy from my class who was dressed similarly only the bow was on the front of the box. I don't remember the lines that I had to say back then but I do remember being quite proud of my role and how well I knew my part. I also knew that, throughout my performance, my mom was sitting in the front row, mouthing my lines as I said them.

 

For the past few weeks we had been practicing our Sunday school production over and over with my mom directing. She had and still has a knack for getting kids in order and putting on a show. I'm not sure if I got the role because I was good for it or if it was because my moms' daughter but I truly didn't care. I felt that my mom believed in me and that was why I had such an important role.

 

Despite what life sometimes throws at us, I still feel that my mom believes in me no matter what. The evidence is in whenever I create something. She adamantly proclaims that it is hers, regardless of my plans. She is one of my biggest fans and she doesn't hesitate to tell me. She is quick to praise and slow to criticize.

 

My mom is my best friend. Like all best friends we sometimes fight but we always make up. More often than not we get along fantastically.  I know that if I had a problem I could go and talk to her about it and she would help me through it. I also know that if I just wanted to waste time and chat for a bit that I could easily talk to my mom for a good two or three hours, just for the heck of it! Not many daughters can say that about their moms.

 

If anything has changed since that production so long ago, it is that my mom and I are closer than ever before, for which I am always grateful. I am proud to be her daughter and am so happy to have the privilege to call her friend. And just like that day so long ago, I know that if I'm ever in the spotlight again, she will be sitting in the front row, mouthing my lines as I say them.

 



Fresh Cut Grass

The sun was shining on the warm summer day as I rode my bike around in the yard with my little brother. The breeze picked up the scent of fallen apples from the apple orchard and the cars on the road could be heard under our laughter. It was summer and we were having a blast.

Then we heard a truck pull into the drive way and our bikes were forgotten. We looked up and saw our dad's green landscaping truck as he drove into to the entrance of the two door garage. He stepped out of the truck once it was turned off and my brother and I dash to greet our dad. He was covered from head to toe in dirt and cut grass and he had a checker print sun burn on his face from his straw hat. Even though he was probably exhausted he still grinned when he saw us, giving us each a warm bear hug that always smelled like fresh cut grass.

Mom would come out and tell Dad that he wasn't allowed in the house till he hosed off all the dirt. He'd nod and go and clean as much of the dirt off as he could before going into the house. We kids would follow him inside, chattering about how our day was, never once thinking that he might just want silence after a long exhausting day. He keep smiling, ask us questions and answering our questions and then he would go to take a shower to wash the rest of the grim off.

My dad is now a pastor, and it's not often that he has to hose off outside before coming into the house. Instead of digging into the dirt of the ground, he now digs into the grit of the bible and strives to find what is planted in it's words. Now when I hug my dad he smells like the church building or of books, still a comforting smell to me, but I'll admit it's not the smell of my childhood. Things change and people grow and sometimes, what was once familiar is now so far from the present that it's hard to reconcile the two images.

The father of my childhood was a hard working man who toiled in the ground and who sought to make little seedlings sprout into a glorious rose bush. He would take that bush and he would care for it, trimming and watering as needed. Now he is a man who seeks to help plant God's seeds and to encourage with God's works, watering and trimming if God allows. It is still the same practice, it is still the same concept, except, instead of using the watering can, in a sense, he is the watering can and God's the one who's holding him and that makes me so proud to be his daughter.

There are still those days when he works in landscaping. I love those days. I may grumble about clearing rocks and getting dirt under my finger nails (what girl truly doesn't) but I still like working alongside my dad because it reminds me of my childhood and the way things were then. I love it when he cuts grass because I absolutely love the smell of the freshly cut grass. And then when I hug him I'm reminded that even thought we both have changed through out the years and have had our ups and downs, he's still my daddy and I know in my heart that when he comes driving in I can abandon my bike, run and give him a big bear hug and even with the smell of books, he still smells like freshly cut grass.

The Road and To do lists.

I had just dropped off my husband at work. My mind was focused on shifting my mental gears into my job and writing while my hand shifted gears in my car. 1st gear, getting into the process of what my to do list is for today; learning new terms, make a few phone calls; second gear, meet new bosses, eat lunch; third gear; writing. Once I had reached third gear I stayed there for a while. The car was running smoothly through traffic and in my mind was a solid to do list. Occasionally I would go to fourth gear and think about what to do tonight once I got home but otherwise I stayed in third and ran through the to do list.

What was really interesting is that all through my to do list, not once did my eyes leave the road and glance at the scenery. Not once did my mind leave the to do list and thank God that I am alive one more day on His great earth. Not once did I think that I even love my hubby. Only to do and road.

Isn't that how we run our lives? Isn't that how we go by day to day. We focus on our list of things that need to be accomplished and we think of how best to get revenge on that 'pipsqueak' who just cut us off. We think of getting our children to school and dashing past the homeless person on the side of the road, thinking to ourselves, 'I'll help them later' when really, we won't even notice them on the way back because we are thinking of what to have for supper and putting up our feet for some 'me time.'

It is increasingly obvious that today's society has become a society of 'I' rather than Him. We try to run our lives and we blame Him when things go wrong. We can't comprehend that the world does not revolve around our to do list and the road. We are always on the road moving from to do list to to list. There is never an end, never a 'break.'

When I turned into my works parking lot I looked at the sky and there was a brilliant red sunrise. It was the most of the sun that I would likely see today since it was overcast. But even in the busyness of my to do lists and the road, I decided to take time and thank God that I'm alive another day, and that He had the wonderful idea of putting that beautiful sunrise in my direct line of view so that I could focus on my road to him, rather than my road to to do.

** I referbished this post from my old blog. I think it's still pertinent even 2 years later. Let me know what you think!