Growlings

I am extremely wound up at the moment and feeling the need to blow off some steam, so I've put the kettle on to boil for tea, and with the smell of fresh apple bread filling my kitchen, I'm settling in to do some ranting.

First things first, whoever thought it was a brilliant idea to spray poison liquid in our houses to kill ants was not a genius. To begin with, it takes a ridiculous amount of work to prepare your house for said spraying, especially when you live in a tiny, two-bedroom townhouse with small children and every wall has furniture on it and every cupboard and closet is crammed with stuff. Then, you aren't allowed to clean your baseboards and cupboards for four weeks after the spraying has been completed, which basically means you're living with poison everywhere for a month. When you have children under the age of three who are crawling around on the floor and putting everything in their mouths, this is a disgusting and scary thought, not to mention the fact that our dishes and food are sitting in cupboards that have also been coated in poison. Ick.

Secondly, to make an official announcement along with my ranting, Tim no longer works for Artech. He has finally taken the plunge and gone back to trucking at Northland full-time. So far, we are ecstatic not to be dealing with the stress that is working at the mis-micro-un-managed Artech Communications. However, we do still have do deal with an overtime settlement in regards to Tim's hours for 2009, as well as somehow getting a check for his vacation pay owing, as well as some corporate expenses that went on our credit card that shouldn't have. Suffices to say, they are a bunch of idiots, and I'm getting an ulcer just thinking about their stupidity. I won't go into great details about just how stupid they are, but I will say that if they don't get their act together and come up with a number that we can agree on, we will go to the ESA and file a claim, just see if we don't. Honestly, we were ready to deal with this peaceably, until they started saying that when Tim worked a 40 hour week, 9 to 5 every day, that he still owes them 2.5 hours of lieu time for lunch breaks. GAAAAHHH!!!

Anyway, I'm not feeling anymore settled, and I have an inkling that thinking about this as I blog is only adding to my sense of angst. My water is almost boiled; I'm going to go have a cup of tea and work on a puzzle until Reuben wakes up from his nap.

"See, I am doing a new thing!"

I had the great privilege this past weekend of going to a Living Proof conference in Toronto where Beth Moore was the speaker. It was an excellent experience, both because of the opportunity to get out for a Friday evening/Saturday morning without the kids and because of the spiritual experience that I got to have reconnecting with God. I found the theme for the weekend, the title of my post, Isaiah 43:19, quite appropriate. I have been desperate for God to do a new thing in my life, especially when it comes to my relationship with Him, and I hope that this weekend will prove to be the turning point as far as that goes.

I had actually thought that I would have some more profound thoughts to say on the subject, but I'm drawing a blank at the moment. Go figure. I have an evening to myself, Tim's gone on a trucking run, the kids are in bed, I have no work tonight, there's nothing good on TV yet, and I can't figure out what to say on my blog.

...however, as I finished typing that, I just remembered something that I've been meaning to do and never seem to find time for, and that is to watch Season 1 of Stargate Universe that a friend gave me...hmmmm...first I have to figure out how to play movies off the XBox another friend is lending us as the format that I received Stargate in won't play off of our DVD player...

Anyway, I think I'll end this there, then. Isn't it great that I'm blogging more regularly again?!

Inspiration from the Olympics

In reference to Justine's comment on my previous post, yes, I am the one you had the discussion with about the Olympics in reference to people needing something to believe in. I had intended to blog about that at some point, but then I forgot all the profound things I was going to say on the subject. Maybe I'll attempt to cover it now, although I'm sure it won't be as good as I originally intended.

Now, granted, the Olympics have been over for a while now, but it was around the time it ended when there were different discussions happening about how Canadians were really coming through to show their pride in their country etc. etc, that I started having some thoughts about nationalism and patriotism and how all of that fits in to our lives as Christians. I did not come to any firm conclusions on the matter, but one of the things I had commented about to Justine (and maybe to a few other people, I can't remember) was how it really goes to show just how desperately people are looking for something to believe in, and the Olympics gave that to them. I had to wonder what the world would look like if as many people put the passion they felt for the Olympics and being Canadian into a passion for God.

Leading out of that, and this I did not get into in my discussion with Justine, was a massive sense of awe that I experienced after the closing ceremonies. It struck me that the emotions we felt during the Olympics, pride in our Canadian atheletes, joy at watching them win, the awe we felt when watching the opening and closing ceremonies, the sense of solidarity and togetherness we felt as a nation -- think about how much more of that we will experience as Christians when Christ returns and we see God in all His glory; how much more awesome, how much more joy -- my mind was absolutely blown away, and I felt actual fear when I thought about it, fear that when that day comes, I just might not be able to handle all the incredible awesomeness that God is, that my heart just might explode in my chest. I actually prayed to God that He would not let me be too overwhelmed on that day... Is that wierd?

So, in all this, you may be interested to know, dear Reader, that in this past week since writing my last post, I have felt God's presence in my life in a way that I have not felt for a very long time, if ever. It is a rather pleasant change that I hope will stay around for a while...

Jonah 2:2-9

Earlier this week, I had some really good ideas for another blog post. Unfortunately, I didn't get a chance to write them down right away, so now I forget most of what I was going to say. This is a feeble attempt to remember what they were for you...

I was driving home from my Mom 2 Mom group on Monday night when I had most of these thoughts. For some reason, driving is a very therapeutic time for me. The kids (when they're with me, and for once, they weren't that night) are usually quiet. I can put some music on and just think.

On Monday night in particular, I was driving my sister's car, and she had a Sarah McLachlin CD playing -- excellent music to emote to. The moon was full, and the reflection on the water as I drove over the Burlington Skyway bridge made my heart ache. The car passed from shadow to light, shadow to light as the streetlights passed overhead. There's something about driving at night that makes me even more melancholy.

I found myself wondering, when do we begin to heal? The cliche, "Time heals all wounds," comes to mind just now, but it's just such a lame statement that, while maybe true, doesn't really offer much in the way of help. Do we heal gradually, without noticing it, until one day, after "time" has gone by, we wake up and realize we no longer hurt? Or do we somewhere along the way force ourselves to heal by engaging in therapeutic acts, writing blog posts that haven't been written for too much time, laughing at funny movies when we'd rather be crying, playing games with our friends when we just want to be alone, cleaning the house when we'd rather just let it stay dirty...the acts of living life to the fullest instead of wallowing in our misery...

I think sometimes we have no choice but to do those little things that help us claw our way out of that deep pit. Maybe if the pit weren't so deep, we could wait for it to slowly fill back in with dirt until we get back on even ground. But sometimes...sometimes, it takes a litle more effort.

Okay, that was deeper than I meant it to be (hah, no pun intended). Leaving now. Kaylee's done her snack. Ponder that if you will...