BLESSED BEYOND MEASURE

We have spent the last three weeks in Curacao - a beautiful Dutch island in the southern Caribbean. We have enjoyed stunning weather - sunny and breezy - 31 degrees at the height of the noon hour - 28 degrees at bedtime - the cool of air conditioning to sleep in - swimming in the ocean or pool - hikes and climbs at the two national parks - swimming with “one turtle” - exploring beaches and coves - eating yummy food at home and at restaurants - reading and meditating - walks in the “cool” of the morning before the sun is fully up or in the evening after the sun has set - conversations with our friends and people we’ve just met - calls and messages from home from the kids and grandkids and siblings - it’s been wonderful.

In all of this wonder and beauty - we met so many people who complain about - well - just about everything. “The beach isn’t long enough to walk on. The Villa’s aren’t as up-to-date as they’d like. The wifi is slow. The pool doesn’t get cleaned to their liking. The ocean is too wavy. The ocean is too still. There are sandflies on the sand. There are no “real” ovens in the Villa’s - only air fryers.” It goes on and on! I tried to shut my ears to all the complaining. I want to just say - “well - go home!”

“Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances.” If one can’t be joyful and grateful and thankful in a place like this - imagine what they are like at home.

“Let heaven and earth praise Him, the seas and all that move in them!”

Morning sun, light of creation. Grassy fields, a velvet floor. Silver Clouds, a shimmering curtain. He’s designed the perfect world.

Crazy creatures that absolutely arrived as soon as someone decided to eat something. This fellow jumped right up on a neighbour’s lawn chair to try to get a bite of apple.

I swam with this gentle giant.

“A day without a friend is like a pot without a single drop of honey left inside!” Winnie the Pooh

Someone’s trash is another person’s treasure. There are creative artists who live on Curacao who retrieve the trash from the sea and turn it into art.

“Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy. It does not boast. It is not proud. It does not dishonour others. It is not self-seeking. It is not easily angered. It keeps no records of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects. It always trusts. It always hopes. It always perseveres. Love never fails.”

It was Hannah Whitall Smith who said - “the soul that gives thanks can find comfort in everything - while the soul that complains can find comfort in nothing!” I quoted Smith in my January blog about complaining.

My friend - HC - continues to fight cancer that invaded her body last fall. She is an example to me every time I talk with her or correspond in words. When I ask how she’s doing - she writes things like - “I’m doing fine. Trainer this morning. Eating is going good. Feeling better overall. I’m going to the Y - then pickleball and a walk in the sunshine. Stretch class today. Good day so far - sunshine and 0 degrees. Out walking in the sunshine. Have fun on the beach.” Do these words sound like they are coming from someone who has a devastating disease? She could be the one complaining about so much - but not so. She is an example of grace and trust and faith.

I love you HC. Thank you for who you are.

A flamboyance of Flamingos brought such great joy to us.

In my area of influence - I want to be an encourager. I long to bring encouragement and joy in other’s lives.

MY BROTHER - TIM - WOULD HAVE TURNED 70 ON MARCH 17TH!

Happy Birthday Tim! You’d be 70! I wish you were here to celebrate with Lorraine and your kids and the rest of us. I can’t believe you’ve been gone for almost 31 years.

My parents - Stan and Alice Castle - had 9 children - Marilyn - Bob - Susan - Brenda - Harry - Ted - Philip - Tim and me! Tim was born in 1955 and me in - 1958.

I spent my childhood and youth - playing and hanging with my brothers - especially Phil and Tim. Yes - they were 5 and 3 years older but they included me in everything. I don’t ever remember a time when they told me to “get lost!” Through elementary and high school we were “in each other’s back pockets” - then Phil moved out west and next - Tim was off to college in Lindsay. After graduation Tim took a job with the ministry of Natural Resources up in Dryden and then Red Lake. I missed my brothers.

An interesting fun fact about the Castle children - we all married in order from Marilyn on down. Tim married Lorraine the summer before Randy and me - and as the story goes - Randy called Tim just prior to the news that Tim and Lorraine were getting married to say he was going to propose to me and Tim should get on with proposing to Lorraine!!! He did and the rest is history. We married the next summer after Tim and Lorraine.

Tim and Lorraine married in 1978 and lived in the north all of their lives together. They settled on McKenzie Island - (population 150) - across Red Lake from Balmertown. At one time, McKenzie Island was a thriving island community because of the gold mines operating there. Apparently there were two stores - The Bay and Kollman’s, a movie theatre, a drug store, a bank, a bakery, a butcher’s, a barber shop, a post office, a school and 3 airlines. Not so - when Tim and Lorraine lived there.

Randy and I visited Tim and Lorraine and their two kids twice in the 80’s. We made the long drive from Orillia - stopping to camp at Pancake Bay, Kakabeka Falls, and other campgrounds along the way that I can’t remember. I do remember the first summer we went - 1981 - I was pregnant with Zac and I threw up every morning as we drove north! I’d yell - “pull over” and when the car stopped, I opened the door and hurl all over the side of the road. I also remember staying at Kakabeka Falls because it’s such a cool name and because it was daylight until almost midnight. Our vacations at Tim and Lorraine’s home on the island were idyllic. Our babies were young together - we swam and boated and fished and picked blueberries and ate good food and laughed and played games. We were so young.

The call came on a Sunday night - just after midnight - the early hours of July 25th, 1994. I could tell from Randy’s voice that it was bad news - someone had died. As I listened I thought - probably someone from our church family - not ever imagining in a thousand years that it was my beloved big brother - Tim. My brother Ted was making the calls to each of us siblings - relating the very sad news - Tim had drowned Sunday afternoon in the McKenzie River.

I remember being stunned when Randy shared the story - or at least all that Ted knew so far. I was in shock. I got out of bed and my legs gave way. I felt like I was going to be sick to my stomach. I couldn’t believe the news.

We prayed - for Lorraine - the kids - my parents - our siblings - Tim’s friends - and tried to go back to sleep but sleep would not come that night and for many nights to come.

In the morning - we told our boys. They were young. Their hearts broke for my heart.

More important - I knew that four of my siblings had met on that Monday morning at my parent’s home - near Westport to break the news to my mom and dad…..they didn’t phone them in the middle of the night but would tell them face to face. Marilyn, Brenda, Phil and Ted met on the cottage road and wouldn’t you know it - my Dad was already walking their dog in the cool of the early morning - 7 am. Obviously, when he saw the four of them, my Dad knew that something was up. After they told him - his thoughts and words were only for Mom. ‘“Oh, Al! She’ll be devastated!” The five of them (and the dog) walked up the cottage road hill and Mom saw them from the kitchen window……”what?”

My siblings shared the news and Mom just kept saying - “Timmie. Timmie. Timmie!” Her beloved youngest son was dead.

Tim and his 14 year old son, Scott, had gone on a canoe trip for the weekend and were making their way back home Sunday afternoon. The two of them had spent the weekend canoeing, swimming, fishing, and enjoying being together. Scott told us later that on the Saturday night, as they lay looking up at the star-lit velvety black sky, Tim spoke of heaven. He spoke to Scott about the after life - about heaven - about the things that God is preparing for us - that we all need to be ready because we never know when our time will come!

As they approached Red Lake - late on that Sunday afternoon - they decided to empty their bags and equipment onto the shore and maneuver their canoe through the small set up rapids in the McKenzie River - something they had done many, many times before. There was some white water but nothing dangerous. They were both wearing their life jackets.

They were about halfway through the rapids when the canoe tipped them out in only about 4 or 5 feet of water. Scott swam to shore and Tim decided to stay with the canoe and guide it through the rocks. For some reason that day - the canoe started to go sideways and Tim was being pushed by the force of the water and the canoe. Suddenly the aluminum canoe folded in half and trapped Tim in it - under the water - between two huge rocks. The canoe wouldn’t budge - it was stuck. Scott immediately jumped into the river and tried with all his might to push on the canoe to free it so Tim would be released. It would take 28 hours before the canoe was freed - 28 hours before Tim’s body would be free from his watery grave. The OPP divers worked tirelessly all those hours. It was Tim’s best friend - Big John - who, early Monday evening - 28 hours after Tim’s body was pinned beneath the canoe - banged on the canoe and prayed - “Dear God - please release Tim’s body”. Immediately the canoe slid from the rocks and Tim’s body popped up the surface.

It was a long - sad drive north. All of us siblings made the journey to McKenzie Island to share in Lorraine’s grief and support and love her. We stayed on the island at a Mission Hostel - all of us together. Many of Lorraine and Tim’s church friends brought us food. We heard stories from his friends of how much he was loved.

I wept through the service. I couldn’t sing the hymns but I believed the words. “Day by day and with each passing moment - strength I find to meet my trials here!” “Because He lives, I can face tomorrow - because He lives, all fear is gone - Because I know He holds the future - and life is worth the living - just because He lives.” I was steadied by Tim’s pastor as he spoke the truth of God’s Word about heaven and the afterlife. I wept and laughed through Big John’s eulogy! He quoted Tim’s favourite poem. Tim knew it by heart. I also knew most of it because when we were teenagers - doing the supper dishes together - Tim rehearsed it over and over again - The Cremation of Sam McGee. “There are strange things done in the midnight sun - by the men who moil for gold - the Arctic trails have their secret tales - that would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights - But the queerest they ever did see - was the night on the marge of Lake Lebarge - I cremated Sam McGee.” There are 15 stanzas in this poem! (Check it out!) Tim memorized the whole poem in 1974 and 20 years later he could still say it without making a mistake.

And now - this July - it will be 31 years since that weekend - that started so happy - and ended so tragically. March 17th - Tim would have turned 70! I can’t but wonder what kind of man he would be today and yet I know! Loving. Kind. Gracious. Happy. Faithful. He always had a smile on his face. He was all those things and more.

And now - I also reflect that as he spoke of heaven to Scott - Tim was ready. He had given his life to Jesus as a young boy - was baptized in our home church in Cornwall and was a leader in his church in Red Lake. He knew where he was going. He graced the way for the rest of us.

Love you Tim. Love my memories of happy years as kids and teenagers. You were a fun and good big brother to me and a sweet little brother to the rest of our siblings. You’ll always be young.

HIKING CHRISTOFFEL MOUNTAIN - CURACAO

We’re in Curacao with friends. It’s our first visit to this beautiful island but definitely won’t be our last. We’ve rented a sweet villa at Blue Bay Resort - swim - read - meet new people - walk - and since we’ve rented a car for this vacation, we’re taking in some of the sights on this lovely Caribbean island.

I made a short list of a few things to do before we came down and on my list was a visit to Christoffel National Park. Although there are many things to do and see at the park - I wanted to climb the mountain. The mountain is approximately 1220 feet high - the highest point on the island - where you literally have a 360 view. On a clear day - some say - you can see Venezuella. (We didn’t).

We read several reviews before we went and all of them said - start early to beat the heat of the day! So…….Harv, Julie and I were up at 5:15 am and in the car by 5:45 and at the Park by 6:20. We paid our entrance fee and drove the 3 km to the parking lot at the foot of the mountain where Julie and I would start the climb. It would take between 2 and 3 hours to go up and down.

The entrance to the trail. Notice how smooth and wide it is!

Before long, the trail narrowed, the incline increased and we had to maneuver around boulders!!!

At our first opening from the trail - we caught our first glimpse of the ocean and the sun coming up over the mountain. To God be the glory!

My heart rate was definitely elevated as we climbed up and up!

We’re almost at the top! At this point - we were on all fours!

We made it to the summit in about one hour and twenty minutes.

All smiles!

The trip down!

The path down got easier and easier.

After close to three hours we reached the bottom. We met a new friend and she hiked with us most of the way down.

When we were parents of young sons - we often said - “Jolliffe’s aren’t quitters!” My parents often said - “finish what you started!” Mark Twain said - “The secret of getting ahead is getting started.” Nelson Mandela was heard to say - “It’s always seems impossible until it’s done!” The apostle James reminds us - “Count it all joy, my brothers and sisters, when you meet trials of various kinds….for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. Let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete - lacking in nothing.”

The above sayings were good reminders to myself during and after the tough climb the other day!

Here’s what I think about such a trek!

#1. I’m thankful for my strong body. I’m thankful I’m able to go to the gym and work on strength training. I’m grateful for the coaches at NO DRAMA FITNESS who offer encouragement and grace each and everyday - who challenge me to do what I can with what I have.

#2. I’m thankful for my friend, Julie, who is a good sport to go along with some of my hair-brained ideas. It’s nice to have a “partner in crime!” A shout out to Julie - who very early on the climb, rolled her ankle but kept going. It wasn’t until we got home and she took off her shoe…….that we saw that she had aggravated her foot. RICE for Julie for a few days.

#3. I’m thankful we hit the trail early before the heat of the day set in. We brought plenty of water and stopped every 15 minutes or so for breaks and hydration.

#4. It was a special treat to see the sun coming up around the mountain. “The heavens declare the glory of God and the sky above proclaims His handiwork.”

#5. It was hard at some points along the upper part of the mountain - we were on all fours - sometimes needing to step on boulders that were almost two feet high, using out finger tips to hold on to the walls on either side - but we knew we were close to the prize and for sure would keep going! There were “new” friends along the way who offered a helping hand to pull us up or push us from behind! We need each other!

#6. Julie and I both agreed that it was exhilarating and a real adrenaline rush when we finished. It’s lovely (at our ages) to still be accomplishing things we’ve never done before. We will keep at it.

I’m reminded of Pilgrim - of the great book - Pilgrim’s Progress - by John Bunyan. Bunyan’s book is a Christian allegory - the story follows a man named Christian as he leaves the City of Destruction and journeys to a place called the Celestial City, encountering all sorts of roadblocks, mountains, treacherous pathways etc. along the way. On a deeper level, Pilgrim’s Progress - charts the journey of an average Christian as they walk through this life until they get to Heaven - with its roadblocks, mountains and treacherous pathways!

Keep moving. Don’t give up. Live life to the full.

A PICTURE SPEAKS ONE THOUSAND WORDS - MY WINTER IN A NUTSHELL

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven. (Eccl.3:1) A very long time ago King Solomon penned these various famous words - words that are quoted at birth and at death - at planting and at harvest - at war and at peace - when weeping or laughing - when staying in one place or moving on to the next - when keeping silent or speaking - when loving or hating!

We all experience seasons in our lives! The regular seasons come to mind - winter, spring, summer and fall. We all experience seasons of joy and newness and growth as well as sadness and loss.

I think of the seasons of my life thus far - a little girl in a big family - a teenager in the ever-changing 70’s - finding out who I was - college life - marriage - motherhood with 3 babies - who became toddlers - then adolescents - then teenagers themselves - becoming a mother-in-law (3 times) - Grammie life - the death of my first husband - remarriage - retirement living.

Whatever season we find ourselves in - it has a beginning and an end. A new season is always around the corner! Most bring hope and relief and a deeper sense of faith and peace.

My (literal) winter season (2025)!

Snow and more snow! Twenty-seven bus cancellations in Bruce County. It seemed to go on and on!

Christmas in Kitchener with the O.J’s and K J’s. It’s a blessing for this Grammie when the kids and grandkids gather together. Laugher and chatting and games and a few arguments always make times together memorable. Our family day weekend in Toronto was cancelled……because of snow and more snow! Until the summer then……..

Birthday in Antigua. I turned 67 this past January. Always grateful for another trip around the sun.

My book arrived on a snowy day in January. I wrote this book last year - all about my memories - for my grandchildren to know and read - long after I’m gone!

Oh Canada! We beat the USA in the 4 Nations Cup in overtime! I’m a proud Canadian - always will be - and I cheer loud and proud for my country.

Thankful for Sunday mornings and my church. Each week - the singing and message - revitalizes my faith - encourages my heart and blesses my soul.

Reno”s happening at 56 Boiler Beach. More windows - stripping the brown off the hardwood to blond - kitchen cabinets and such. We’ve been hobbits for the last few weeks - living in the basement.

Didn’t get to watch any volleyball tournaments (they were all out of town) - but thankful that Caleb found his “tribe” in Kincardine with the OVA U14’s! He loves the game!

Upon returning from Antigua in January - 100 little duckies found a home in our home! Hmmm - the Kincardine J’s had fun planting them all over the house - 8 are still to be found but you know - come summertime - they may find their way back to Lynden Drive.

We landed in beautiful Curacao a few days ago and will spend a few weeks here - a wonderful respite from winter! When we go home - perhaps spring?

My friend - Julie - is always up for an adventure.

Thankful to share life together with Harv.

“He has made everything beautiful in its time.”

NEVER ONCE

Matt Redman wrote a song many years ago called “NEVER ONCE”. It is a song of hope and encouragement. It’s a song about finding grace in Jesus, even when life is confusing. It conveys the idea that God is faithful and will never leave us nor forsake us.

“Standing on this mountain top - Looking just how far we’ve come - Knowing that for every step - You were with us……Kneeling on this battle ground - Seeing just how much You’ve done - Knowing every victory - was Your power in us……..Scars and struggles on the way - But with joy our hearts can say - Yes, our hearts can say…….

Never once did we ever walk along - Never once did You leave us on our own - You are faithful - God - You are faithful”

On my 16th birthday, my mom was told that she had cancer. Back in the 70’s a cancer diagnosis was devastating. It still is. I was so scared. I couldn’t imagine life without my mother. Even during that difficult, uncertain time - as I look back now - I see how God’s hand was on my mom - my dad - our family and myself - growing me - challenging my young faith - grooming me to trust even in the most painful circumstances. This wasn’t the only difficulty I would ever experience. There would be more but the more would show me God’s greater power and greater strength in and through me.

My Mom would live another 46 years after her cancer diagnosis - she died in 2021 in her 101st year.

John Rippon wrote these words - “When through fiery trials - thy pathways shall lie, My grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply; The flame shall not hurt thee, I only design - Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.”

In Tim Keller’s book - Walking with God through Pain and Suffering - he wrote - “Modern Western people see suffering as something like adverse weather, something you avoid or insulate yourself from until it passes by.” However - if we want to know who we truly are - what our strengths and weaknesses are - to know if we are compassionate and wise - to know if we are prone to trust in the disappointments in life or prone to bitterness - we must be tested. Keller says - “There is no way to really learn how to trust in God until you are drowning.”

The second real test in my life is when I had my third son in August of 1984. I already had two wee ones at home - Zac was 2 - Ben was 1 - and Pete was to be born. I went into the hospital for my scheduled C-Section on Sunday afternoon - ready to go on the Monday morning. I remember being super excited knowing that soon I would meet either our third son or our first daughter. Randy went home to wait for the few hours I would be in surgery and recovery. Things went very wrong - very quickly. The anaesthetist and nurse came into the OR and all the doctor said was “roll over on your side and draw your knees up!” I did! He administered the epidural and then he and the nurse left the room. They left the room. I was alone. I felt the anaesthetic go down my body and legs and then just as quickly - up my torso to my neck and down my arms. I was completely paralyzed from my neck to my toes. I couldn’t move a muscle. I knew it. I knew I was in trouble. I knew my baby was in trouble. Neither of us would live if we didn’t get help. I wasn’t breathing. I couldn’t move and I couldn’t yell for help. My life flashed in front of me. I was calm. And then I wasn’t. In my head - I pleaded with the Lord to let me live. I asked God to send help. I asked Him to spare me and my baby - so I could be a wife to Randy and mom to my three children. God answered. He sent doctors and nurses into the OR and very quickly I was put on life support - my baby son was born and the paralysis all disappeared within 4-6 hours. “Scars and struggles on the way - but with joy our hearts can say - never once did we ever walk alone.”

I cry a lot. Tears come easy. It’s good to lament. Remember the guy - Job - when he finds out his children have died - finds out that he has lost his home and farm - animals and stock - the Bible says “Job tore his robe and fell to the ground but in all this he didn’t sin.” We can express grief and sadness with powerful emotions.

My third very sad test came in 1994 - my brother Tim drowned in a canoeing accident. You know when the phone rings after midnight - it’s not going to be a call with good news (unless you have a new grandchild on the way!) In the summer of 1994, it was a very sad call to receive. Tim was three years older than me - we grew up together - we had always been super close, tight siblings. He was a husband and a dad. Tim and his son had been on a weekend away and were coming home on the Sunday afternoon, when whitewater overturned their canoe. Scott swam to shore - and Tim tried to guide the aluminum canoe through the bouncy water. The canoe hit some rocks - folded in half and pinned Tim under. Heartbreaking. Devastating. The night we received that horrible news, I clung to Randy and wept my heart out. That week I cried until I wondered how there could be anymore tears. We buried Tim the next week. Thirty years later, I still miss him. “Carried by Your constant grace - Held within Your perfect peace - Never once, no, we never walk alone.”

There would be more times to come of learning and trusting. God allowed us to trust Him through the loss of our pastoral responsibilities in not one - but two churches. We saw friends turn their backs on us through those times. We would watch - first as Randy’s mom suffered with cancer and passed to Glory - then my Dad - then Randy’s Dad diagnosed with dementia - Randy going Home to Glory suddenly - his Dad - my Mom - other family members passing away - saw the marriages of loved ones and friends disintegrate - difficult diagnoses of cancer - a lot of heart ache.

BUT - there’s been so much joy too. My marriages. Watching my sons grow to be strong men. The marriages of my children. Grandchildren born. Great jobs. Awesome vacations. Close relationships. Friendships that have flourished. Siblings that I love. Eating good food. My cup has overflown with blessings.

“Every step we’re breathing in Your grace - Evermore we’ll be breathing out Your praise. You are faithful, God, You are faithful.”

I wrote these words following the death of Randy in 2014 - “Above all, follow Christ. That takes precedence over every other priority - over every other commitment, obligation and personal need. Follow Christ fully.

Never Once have I ever walked alone. Thank You - God - for this great gift.

I even wrote a wee book a few years ago - I called it Never Once.

OTHER BOATS

A very long time ago, Randy preached a sermon called “Other Boats”. It was based on the account of when Jesus was with his disciples on the sea of Galilee. ‘On that [same] day, when evening had come, He said to them, “Let us go over to the other side [of the Sea of Galilee].” So leaving the crowd, they took Him with them, just as He was, in the boat. And other boats were with Him.

I’ve often thought about that sermon and that phrase - “other boats were with Him.” Why did the author include that sentence. What did he want us to remember? Where can I apply this to my life.

I get seasick quite easily. I remember a trip to the Caribbean several years ago where we signed up for a snorkling tour and the sea was a tad bit wild. A bit. Not overly but……the boat we travelled on to reach the reef - bounced up and down and down and up. When we reached the area where we would snorkle - it wasn’t much calmer however, like a good sport, I donned my snorkel and fins and jumped into the water. After a few minutes, I grabbed onto Randy’s arm and managed to tell him that I didn’t feel well. He pulled me over to the boat and shoved me over the side. I lay on floor of the boat with literally, my stomach and head rolling - I couldn’t see straight. I closed my eyes! I prayed! I leaned over the side and heaved my cookies into the ocean.

I can only imagine how the disciples felt that night so long ago on the Sea of Galilee. The wind raged - the waves pounded - the men with Jesus were terrified - but in a one succinct sentence - with a word from Jesus - everything quieted down. A miracle.

While I don’t love the motion of the seas - I do love the part in this story where it was recorded that there were other boats with them. They were not alone in this storm. Neither am I. And neither are you.

It’s important to reach out to the other boats. It’s imperative that we not ever walk alone. It’s also so important to let others reach out to us.

Young mom - tired of folding endless diapers (do people still fold diapers) - night feedings - countless reading of the same storybook - preparing meal after meal - washing and drying clothes - struggling to get your toddlers in and out of their snowsuits -know that there are boatloads of other young moms who want to walk along side of you and share life together.

Grandparent - living with aches and pains of an aging body - living with the heartache of children who are upset with you - living far away from your grandchildren - living with the fear that the income you worked so hard for all your life will not last - watching your friends and loved ones pass away - there are boatloads of seniors who share these same realities and will walk along side of you and share life together.

Separated/Divorced/Widowed Sister - living with the devastation of your marriage cut short - eating supper alone night after night - going to events by yourself - sleeping alone in your big bed - wondering if you’ll be able to get by financially - grief that pounds on your heart like the waves on the shore - you aren’t going through this alone - there are boatloads of women who are also in the same situations and will cry with you, hold you, advise you and walk your journey with you.

Teenager - trying not to say or do anything stupid that would attract negative attention in your classroom - learning to exert independence in certain areas yet maintaining honour and obedience to your parents - trying to juggle school work and sports and after school jobs and family and friends and not quite sure how to cope with them all - there are boatloads of youth pastors and aunts and uncles and grandparents and friends who will encourage you - challenge you - bless you - hang out with you and walk your journey with you.

Dads - trying to be the best husband - the best father - the best employee - the best neighbour - the best coach - the best - the best - the best - but struggling in one or more of these relationships - hang on - there are boatloads of other dads who want to be a part of your life to encourage you - to be your friend - to listen to you - to laugh with you - to shoot some hoops with you - to share your journey with you.

The thing is - there are other boats all around us who will - if we are willing - who will enter into our lives to love and support us.

I had our boys in pretty quick succession - January 1982, April 1983 and August 1984. I was that young mom up to my ears in babies and diapers and little sleep. There were other boats around me at that time who reached out to me - to care for me and my littles - to do my laundry - to mop my floors - to hug me when I was overwhelmed - to bring us meals when I was too tired to cook - who babysat our three wee sons and gifted us with money to go out for dinner - who took me shopping for new clothes - who challenged me how to love my husband - who shared my journey with me. I’m forever grateful.

Have you watched Moana? I have! I watched Moana 2 last night with Adele and Indigo while their parents and brothers were at hockey. I’m still not sure of what all happened (I may have napped during the movie) but I got the basic gist of the story……and I noticed two things! When Moana and her crew left their island to go search for people - all the boats from their small island accompanied them to the reef - to encourage them and send them off! Hmmmm! Interesting. And lovely. And meaningful. The second thing I noticed was upon Moana’s return to her island. After an hour and a half of watching rolling oceans, watching them getting into messes and getting out etc. - they find what they’ve been looking for - people. I was excited for them. And then this! The last scene of the movie shows their boat arriving back at their island and then the camera pans behind them - so many boats accompanying them - so many boats with them - as far as the eye could see. They were never alone.

There are so many boats out there - ships - canoes - yachts - cruisers - sailboats - kayaks - rafts - ferries - schooners - catamarans - dinghies - sloops - steamboats - rowboats - pontoons - freighters and more - all waiting to accompany you in your journey.

Reach out to them. Don’t give up. Accept the other boat in your life.

Or - be the other boat!

LOVE IT OR LIST IT

Should we stay or should we go?

We’ve all watched HGTV - including the hit show - LOVE IT OR LIST IT! The gist of the show goes like this! “When a house no longer feels like home, homeowners are left with the big emotional question: renovate or sell it? Love It or List It helps fed-up homeowners decide. In each episode realtor David Visentin and designer Page Turner compete for the homeowners' final decision to stay or go. David's insider perspective on the real estate market helps target listings to prospective buyers, but Page is determined to show homeowners she can transform their worn-out house into something they can love.”

Last May, you may recall that Harv and I decided to list it! With the help of our fantastic realtor - Mo MacKenzie - we staged our home so that potential buyers would want to buy it. In the meantime, we found a lovely new build bungalow close to downtown Kincardine. It would be the home that Harv and I chose together - our “first” home in our 8 year marriage.

I had a 30 year plan - ten years in a bungalow - 10 years in a condo - 10 years in one of my kid’s basement!

When I married Harvey back in 2016, I moved to his lovely home in Kincardine. It’s on the lake. It’s spacious. We can fit our large family in for vacations and dinners. We added a fantastic patio and fire pit in the side yard a few years ago. We had the basement finished to accommodate sleepovers and parties. We bought a hot tub that gets used (almost) everyday - it has held at least 8 grandchildren once or twice. Our home is lovely.

Back to last May……..Mo did a fantastic job of promoting our home…….he worked so hard for us………..he held several Open Houses…….advertised in Cottage Life (that was cool to see)………online videos………and only 4 people requested private showings. No offers. Clear message! Not the time to sell. Not the time to move.

One comment that people made over and over again to our realtor was that there is “not sufficient natural light” in the living room, dining room and kitchen area of our home. I totally agree.

Shortly after we took our house off the market, Harv broached the idea to me of renovating those areas of the house where it could use some lightening up.

And so…….the loving it……begins next week. Renos!

Two great big windows - one in the living room and one in the dining room are going in to let the sunshine in. The kitchen cabinets and island will be carefully removed by our contractor Guy - (and are sold to be reused)…….the dark brown hardwood is being stripped and redone to a soft blond shade……….the dark brown table and chairs and massive hutch are sold to be loved by my niece……..the new kitchen is being built by Acacia Fine Cabinetry…..white…….the black countertop will be replaced with white and black appliances with stainless.

We want our house to be more comfortable - to be more welcoming - to be more child friendly - to be lighter - to be ours!

I can’t help but compare the house renovations to real life renovations……it’s my desire to keep moving ahead in my life…….not being content to living in the past - with all its hangups and nets - dragging me down…….recognizing the ugly things in my heart that need to be changed……listening more……..being more patient………not repaying nasty for nasty………..

Romans 12:9-21 is one of my favourite passages in the Bible!

“Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honour. Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs and seek to show hospitality.

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Never be wise in your own sight. Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honourable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceable with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written - ‘Vengeeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.’ To the contrary, ‘if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.’ Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

We choose “love it”.

“I’ll post pictures when the redo is redone.

THE ART OF GATHERING

I love - love - love - having people in our home! For a meal! For coffee! To chat! To laugh. To cry. To share stories.

I come by it honestly. I learned from my Momma - who learned from her Momma (Grandmother).

GATHER - so many opportunities for this word to come to fruition come to my mind - “to collect things - from different places” - “to put your arms around someone and hold and carry them in a careful and loving way” - “to become faster, stronger” - “to make a greater effort to be stronger and braver and more courageous” - “to make myself ready to do something special or difficult or challenging”.

Some similar words that come to my mind - assemble, congregate, combine, connect, merge, arrange, concentrate, join, rally, forage, understand, surmise - to name a few.

The older I get - the more I realize that gathering around my table is more about seeking connection with each other - having our hearts drawn together over shared food and laughter and stories - letting go of expectations and enjoying those moments - being vulnerable in the intimacy of the table conversation.

In 2016, my son, Ben, was preparing to graduate with his Master of Arts (Religion) at Reformed Theological Seminary - as he continued pastoring Resurrection Church in Ottawa. He wrote his thesis on - What it means to be hospitable: Paul’s commands in light of his Mediterranean context! I pulled out his book last week and reread it. (It is good). He used three major works that sourced out what the Greeks, Romans and Jews thought about hospitality in the early centuries and why it is still important today……Entertaining Angels by Stephen Arterbury…….Making Room by Christine Pohl…….and And You Welcomed Me by Amy Oden.

Randy and I served at the Baptist Church in Listowel from December 1987 to February 1998. Our boys were young - barely out of toddlerhood - when we arrived - and in high school when we moved to Cambridge. Twice (that I can remember) during those years, I do believe we entertained angels.

During an extremely difficult time in ministry there, a middle-aged man showed up at the church on a Sunday night in the summer time. He said he was in the area working for a few weeks and sought out our church for fellowship and friendship. Randy and I invited him back to our home after church and he brought treats for all of us. After the boys went to bed, he asked about our church and we opened up to him about the difficulties we were facing. We talked long into the night and he spoke words of encouragement to us and prayed for us. He spent about 6 weeks in our area - and spent most Wednesday and Sunday nights at our home for supper and then again, after the meetings. He often brought food, flowers and gifts for the boys but I’ll never forget the words of love and peace he spoke into our lives. I’ve long forgotten his name but I do know that when he left at the end of that summer, Randy tried to locate him in the city where he said he was from and the company that he said he worked for - notta - nothing - zippo - zilch! No such person. No such company. We gratefully thanked God for this man. He came to us - sent from God - at the time we needed him.

The second memory is that of a couple - a husband and wife - who showed up at our church. As I recall, this couple was somewhat downtrodden, dressed shabbily, hair uncombed, (even bad breath). We chatted with them after church and they hung around, long after the last of the regulars had gone home. Randy and I looked at each other - nodded - and we invited them home for lunch. Whatever I set out for lunch that day, they ate. And they stayed and stayed and stayed. We moved to the backyard for a bit and enjoyed iced tea while watching the boys play, chatting about this and that. And they stayed and stayed and stayed. I fed them supper and then we went to evening church. They sat near the back and at the end of the service I turned around to say good - bye to them - they were gone. We never saw them again. Who were they? Where did they come from? I believe we were Entertaining angels but that particular time - it was a test for me. I like my angels to encourage me. I like them to fit into my space. That particular time the angels were not what I was expecting.

I love the reality of Making Room. My Momma was so good at this. With our huge family of 11, you’d think my mom would have said “no” more often when we brought someone home with us…..especially when we were all home. But no - my mom would always make room for one or two or three more. I would be remiss if I didn’t add the fact that we weren’t rich…..our family lived on my dad’s salary from the Paper Mill. Mom would often tell stories about how the local grocery story would call her and tell her that the peaches (or whatever fruit) was ripe and to come and pick them up and “pay me when Stan gets paid”. It didn’t matter which fruit it was in season - mom needed to can them when they were ripe and often didn’t have the cash at hand. Grocery stores were different back in the day.

Besides the many family and friends who had meals at our table - two people come to mind who were given room at our table - who became family - friends of my brothers. These boys spent more of their time at our home than they did at their own homes. They ate most meals with us. They just showed up - and were never turned away. When Mom came to live with Harv and I in November of 2020 and stayed until her passing at the end of January, 2021 - both of these men phoned her regularly. These men - now grown - were like Mom’s children. They grieved her passing and called me later to tell of mom’s goodness and generosity to them when they were just boys. That’s truly making room.

We all love to be welcomed - don’t we? Whether it’s into “the family” - “the classroom” - “the community choir” - “the new church” - “the team” - we all want it. We want to feel part of the group. We don’t enjoy being left out.

When Randy and I moved to Everett in 2010, we had just completed a year of our sabbatical. I was a little bit gun-shy after the rough dismissal from our former church. I really didn’t want to “go back” into the pastoral ministry. I wanted to stay in Westport (where we spent a year of sabbatical) and just live there - me working at the gym and school and Randy, doing construction work with Bob, the handy man. (Randy told me he was called to pastoral ministry and would do it until he died! He did.) Thus, we moved - into a new neighbourhood and a new church family there - and both - welcomed us!

I was lonely when we moved into our new home but quickly realized that the school buses picked up the kids at 8:15 and so Randy and I became intentional of walking Maggie, our golden retriever just at that time. Quickly we became the Grampa and Gramma of our neighbourhood. Those young families welcomed us with opened arms. We met each morning at the bus stop and share life with those parents and children. The kids and Randy made up all sorts of games while waiting for the bus. Once, Randy even got one little boy’s tongue unstuck from the stop sign pole in the middle of January! (Why do kids want to lick a frozen pole?) We had street hockey games each December - we had a pig roast and bbq where over 90 people attended - we had a Labour Day picnic in our back yard every September - I was invited to hold a brand new baby (that was born at home) as Dad had to go to work and the grandparents hadn't arrived yet. Oh yes - our years in Everett were some of the best years of our lives.

The church we pastored in Alliston for those years also welcomed us! After the devastating dismissal from our previous church, Faith Community blessed us with love and acceptance and grace. Randy - especially - was built up in his character and role as pastor. In return he loved the people he was called to shepherd. Those four years (2010-2014) - four very short years - were filled with joy and fun and growth. When Randy died so suddenly in July of 2014 - our church - Faith Community - gave me Randy’s full salary for the next 8 months. Who does that? Who lovingly cares for a widow like that? Only those who are filled with God’s love and welcoming spirit.

All these years later…..I still long to Entertain Angels………still long to Make Room……and still long to Welcome anyone into our home!

FOUR YEARS

I wrote this blog just over four years ago. This week was the fourth anniversary of my Mom’s promotion to Glory - Heaven - the place she longed for near the end of her 100 years on this earth. I miss her. I miss hearing her voice. I miss her wisdom. I miss her laughter. I miss her stories. While I miss all those things - I’m 100% thankful for the mother I had and the years we had together. I’m grateful for the home she and Dad raised us kids in. I’m grateful for my heritage.

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A 100 YEAR OLD

DECEMBER 18, 2020

My mom has been with us for just over one month and it’s like she has always lived with us. We have settled into a pretty good routine. Consistency is good for 100 year olds!

My mom was diagnosed with Lewy Body disease about 8 and 1/2 years ago. (Lewy body dementia (LBD) is a disease associated with abnormal deposits of a protein called alpha-synuclein in the brain. These deposits, called Lewy bodies, affect chemicals in the brain whose changes, in turn, can lead to problems with thinking, movement, behaviour, and mood). It’s a nasty combination of dementia and Parkinson’s - the “good” thing about the dementia part is that mom knows her kids but forgets mostly everything else that has happened in the last minutes/hours/days.

Mom has settled into our home easily and loves her view of Lake Huron. She doesn’t miss a thing going by on Boiler Beach Road.

What do our days look like now?

Most mornings begin with a smoothie for mom - which I call a milkshake - because smoothie isn’t in a 100 year old’s vocabulary. I add some protein in because that’s about all mom eats for breakfast. I usually make enough for two or three days so the blender isn’t humming every morning. One morning, last week, I must have been a wee bit weary because mom’s milkshake was like none other she had ever had before. I opened the fridge - scooped some smoothie into her glass - added some milk, stirred it and stuck a straw in it. Mom took a sip - but then declined it. “No thank you” - she said, “I’m too tired for anything right now”. Funny! Mom usually downs half the glass right away. I came back a little while later and noticed the smoothie was quite lumpy and I knew something wasn’t quite right. I went back to the fridge - looked in the container and realized my mistake. I poured gravy (from our chicken dinner the night before) into the glass - mixed the gravy with milk - and asked my poor momma to drink it. I was laughing when I went back into her room to explain the wicked taste of her milkshake! We laughed together and mom quipped - “did you at least heat it up?”

Mom doesn’t love mornings! She says she had to get up early all her life when she was taking care of her large family and now is the time to rest, so mom naps and rests most of the morning. But pretty much every morning - her sweet little great grand daughter (my grand daughter) - face times with Gramma Alice!

Shortly after 9 (after the big kids have gone to school) - Indigo - calls and wants to talk with Gramma Alice. These two - what a huge blessing to listen to their conversation - Indie showing Gramma Alice her latest lego building - they even sing together - Twinkle twinkle - and - Jesus Loves Me. After the call is over, Mom doesn’t remember it but always for Indy - she’ll have memories of talking with her 100 year old great Gramma.

Mom spends about 22 - 23 hours in bed everyday. It’s a big effort to get up. Her body is frail. Her old bones hurt. The years of hard work have taken their toll, but we do our best to make her day special. We play music for her - hymns and songs she knows and loves - constantly - or I sing to her. We have watched one or two Hallmark movies and I always ask mom if she thinks the characters will fall in love! Sometimes I crawl in bed with mom and we watch a video that a family member has sent. For Christmas this year - I asked our family to send Gramma videos of themselves wishing her Christmas blessings. They are spiritual moments. I remind mom who it is and then we make a video and send it back to that family member.

We eat lunch in mom’s room with her - Mom loves little bites of fruit and cheese and soft, thin bread and always a cookie.

Each day Harv and I have two hours of “free time” when one of our lovely nurses comes to stay with mom. They are such sweet women and we are grateful for them and their personal care for mom.

I try to convince mom to get up for an hour around supper time - sometimes she does - sometimes she doesn’t. She has eaten at the dining room table with us about half of the nights she has been here and we are always pleased for her that she has made an effort. Mom loves to chat - she says “there’s nothing wrong with my tongue!”

Most evenings we watch Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy and then Mom is pretty much ready for “bed”.

Our conversations during the day revolve around “Stan the man” (my dad) - the pie she secretly made for him (and hid until dessert time) when they were newly married - her work at the mill when she was 16 - when she was the paymaster’s secretary and knew who made what - Dad’s retirement party and how the “big wigs” from Montreal came to honour him - the fact that with each pregnancy (9 of them) her friends commented “not again!” - that she was adopted and raised by her grandparents when she was two - and we listen as if hearing if for the first time!

I’m learning new things.

I’m learning to move more slowly.

I’m learning that when I rub lotion on Mom’s body - not to rub too hard. Mom’s skin is fragile - like paper.

I’m learning to eat more slowly to match the eating pace of a centenarian.

I’m learning that some things I used to do are just not that important right now.

I’m also learning that daily physical exercise is crucial to my own well being in order to care for my Mom well.

We have some great laughs!

But………..there have been some rough moments.

The tears have come easily - for both of us. Mom sometimes gets frustrated with her body that has given way to the aging process. Her legs are weak. It’s hard to walk the 15 steps to the washroom. Mom remembers when “the grass didn’t grow under her feet.” She remembers her active life as a wife and mother. Aging is hard. Her body hurts from lying down and yet it’s so much of an effort to sit up. But mostly she misses Dad and wants to go to be with him. She’s lonely for heaven.

And in those hard moments - I pray over my mom - “As your days are - so shall your strength be.” That verse has become our theme. I pray this verse over mom several times a day. I pray that verse over Harv and I as we lovingly care for mom. I remind mom that God has indeed given her this long life and He is sustaining her until the end.

“Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High - will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord - “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God , in whom I trust.”

My grandson - Luke - said “Thank God Gramma Alice has lived to be 100!”

Gramma Alice is a Rock Star to her great grandchildren.

You are right Lukie! By Gramma Alice living to 100, we her family have the opportunity to care for her - to know she is safe - to know she is clean - to know she is eating well - to know that even though she can’t remember phone calls and face time visits - she can be reminded that her family loves her.

As your days are - so shall your strength be.”

COMPLAINING

At the beginning of the year - the pastor and leadership of our church encouraged us to pray (about everything) and fast (something) for the first 21 days of January. On the first Sunday of 2025 - Pastor Adam began a sermon series called “Pray First”! What would my life look like if I did that? How would it be different? How would my responses be? What would my conversations be like? Different? The same? Prayer should be our first response not our last one!

Pastor Adam talked about firsts. The principle of the firsts!

God must be first - the centre of my life. He spoke about making this principle a reality - this year - this month - this week - this day - God first.

At the end of his message that morning - Pastor Adam - used this illustration!

Choose a different street.

Choose a different street.

#1. I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost. I am helpless. It isn't my fault. It takes forever to find a way out.

#2. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it. I fall in again. I can't believe I am in this same place. But it isn't my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.

#3. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I fall in...it's a habit...but my eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.

#4. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it. (Here it comes!)

#5. I walk down a different street.

That morning I decided to - choose a different street - regarding two things. The first one was easier for me - I had done it before but I would choose it again. I would fast sugar for 21 days. The second choice was harder - I would fast from complaining for 21 days.

It was Hannah Whitall Smith who said - “the soul that gives thanks can find comfort in everything - while the soul that complains can find comfort in nothing!”

A 2009 study on habit creation found that habits develop in a range of 21 to 254 days! There is also something called the 21/90 rule that states it takes 21 days to make a habit and 90 days to make it a permanent lifestyle change. I’ll get back to you on whether my new habits take hold after the 21 days are up!

Giving up added sugar for 21 days was not too difficult for me. I know it’s challenging to cook and bake with ingredients that don’t involve sugar but it can be done. Maple syrup is a great alternative. Sometimes those attempts flop. Sometimes I’m surprised how yummy the outcome is. Giving up sugar has also reduced the inflammation in my thumbs where I have arthritis. That’s a good thing. And it’s interesting that after the first three or four or five days - I didn’t crave sweet things. Even here at the most glorious - beautiful resort in Antigua - I don’t crave the desserts.

Be careful what comes out of your mouth.

Complaining! Now that’s a different kettle of fish.

“Do everything without complaining or arguing” - said the great missionary - Paul.

Complaints come easily! The weather. Crazy drivers. Family members. Aches and pains. Politicians. The Leafs. The refs! You name it - people complain about it. I complain about it.

It takes grace and prayer and discipline to not complain. Sometimes one doesn’t feel like it. It’s tiring. It difficult. Do it anyway.

Because of our pastor’s challenge I’ve been super conscious about not complaining………. by……being grateful……. (replacing bitterness)……..being mindful……..(replacing a quick answer or thought with a non-judgmental one)……..reflecting……(rather than haste)……….meditation and prayer…….(praying first really helps)…….telling my husband and sisters about my fast from complaining……(there is accountability here)…….focusing on joy! This habit is definitely taking more time to achieve. It’s easy to slip back. I’ll keep striving forward.

I’m walking down a different street.

Mont Serrat.

DAUGHTERS-IN-LAW

I have three. They are beautiful inside and out. They are talented. They are smart. They love my sons. They are the mothers of our grandchildren. They have mothers and fathers but they chose to be our daughters as well. They chose to take the Jolliffe name. They are our daughters-in-law.

Tracy - Jen - Heather. These are the girls that I began to pray for back in the early 80’s. When Zac arrived in ‘82 (his birthday was yesterday), Ben in ‘83 and Pete in ‘84, I began to pray for three little girls who would one day be the wives of our three sons. I didn’t know who I was praying for but I knew one day they would show up and our door - when they did - we would be ready to welcome them into our lives and into our hearts. I prayed for their parents. I prayed for their families. I prayed for their friends. I prayed that they would love Jesus more than anything else.

Tracy (married to Zac)

When Randy collapsed all those years ago, I immediately called the boys and it was Heather I talked to first. She was alarmed but calm. She assured me she would get in touch with both Zac and Ben and also my siblings. Before long all six of our children (sons and their wives) had gathered at the Newmarket Hospital and we would have seven days of praying and waiting and talking and praying and more waiting.

Jen (married to Ben)

Upon the advice of a pastor friend, all decisions we made that very long week would be in full agreement - all seven of us would be in on the discussions and decisions. What a blessing the girls were to me as talked through painful and difficult matters. How they loved Randy. It was as if their own father was lying unconscious in the bed. They shared amusing memories of their talks with Randy and wept tears of desperation and loss when we all realized Randy was not going to wake up.

Heather (married to Peter)

After Randy’s passing, it was the girls who made the arrangements with the funeral home for me. It was the kids who accepted food and flowers from neighbours and friends. It was the kids who answered the phone. How thankful I was that our girls stood strong by their husbands and supported them during the most difficult and painful time of their young lives.

They say (whoever they are) that mothers-in-lw and daughters-in-law can’t coexist. I disagree. We both love the same man. We both love the same children. If you are a mother of a son - love his wife and make her thankful you are his mom.

The following letter is borrowed from Debbie Prather.

Dear Daughter - in - law -

I love you dearly. Not just because you love our son so well but because you are wothy and loveable, just the way you are.

I love you dearly. Not just because you are the beautiful mother to our grandchildren, but because you are fearfully and wonderfully made.

I love you. Not because you’re like me, no, but because we’re as different as the individual, unique snowflakes that drift down from the sky.

I love you like I would have loved a daughter, had I had one. Not just because you married into our family but because God gave our family the phenomenal gift of you.

Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for supporting my endeavours as I support yours. Thank you for accepting me even when I say the wrong things or give too much advice. You many not know this, but I think about the error of my ways when I lie in bed at night. I want to do better and better and always do right by you.

I’m grateful that we both believe the best of each other and know that everyone is a work in progress - that it’s never a competition, but a dance, filled with kindness and grace, a dance we rejoice and participate in together. We reach our hands to the sky in praise when we get the steps right. We lift each other up with tender, forgiving spirits if we stumble or fall. Not opponents but confidants. Not at odds but in cahoots. We laugh and share and embrace who God made each of us to be.

Our sons were tiny when we started to pray for the women who would one day become their wives.)

I thank God He placed you in our son’s life. For years, you’re the person we’d prayed and dreamed for, and God came through lavishly. I see how you take care of one another. I see the sweet and thoughtful ways you surprise your husband with the things he enjoys. You champion him in his work. He does the same for you. You two make an incredible team in marriage and parenthood. You respect and admire one another, and he wants nothing more than to keep bringing you joy. What an invaluable legacy from the Lord!

I can promise this - as long as I am here - I’ll help in any way you’d like me to. I will cheer you on and assist however possible. It’s your journey and it’s a pleasure to witness. You see, as much as I care about the grandchildren’s well-being, I care about yours the same.

I listen as you navigate the tangle of emotions that define motherhood and work.

Thank you for trusting me with your cherished children. The time I get to spend with these precious ones fill my heart with delight that spills over into every square inch of me. Thank you for trusting my instincts. It means the world to me.

I pray for you. I pray for your health and your future. I pray that God gives you strength each day for the tasks He puts in front of you. My heart is filled with gratitude. May His favour and blessings be upon you for a thousand generations.

You are fabulous. You are loved. I’m so very thankful for you.

Always and forever, your grateful mother-in-law

(*I have three amazing daughters-in-law, Tracy, Jen and Heather, and for the sake of not having everything in the plural, this letter is dedicated to all three of them.)

MY FETTERLY FAMILY

Private Pliny John Fetterly

Born on 22 May 1897 in Christenville, Ontario - son of Adam Christopher Fetterly, Cornwall, Ontario - at the time of his enlistment in 1915: trade as farmer, single, no current or previous military service, Presbyterian, height of 5 feet 8 inches, chest of 38.5 inches fully expanded, ruddy complexion, brown eyes, brown hair.

Joined the 59th Battalion, CEF, on 10 June 1915 - transferred to the 38th Battalion, CEF, in Barriefield, Ontario, on 30 June 1915 (number 410946) - served with the 319188th Battalion during its period of garrison duty in Bermuda - landed in France with the 38th Battalion on 13 August 1916 - wounded on 29 October 1916 - rejoined the 38th Battalion on 6 November 1916 - struck off the strength of the 38th Battalion on 2 May 1917 - rejoined the 38th Battalion on 18 June 1918 - wounded on 2 or 3 September 1918 - invalided to England on 5 September 1918.

Fun Fact - (Cornwall Mayors - 1919-20 Adam C. Fetterly (my great grandfather) - Pliny’s father.

I didn’t know my grandfather - Pliny John Fetterly. I only met him once in my life but I wish I had had more opportunities. Pliny returned from ww1 in 1918 - married my grandmother in 1919 - they had my mom in 1920 - had a second daughter, my aunt in 1921 and then, sadly, my grandmother passed away in 1922. What’s a man to do with a toddler and an infant? Fresh home from the war. A young man with two babies? Grieving the loss of his young wife. I’m not sure of all the events which led to the adoption - but my grandfather and maternal great-parents came to the agreement that they would adopt the two little girls. I make no judgment. I can’t imagine my grandfather’s sadness. Everyone must have been in shock and dismay and grief-stricken. This was not what they ever imagined happening.

My Mom often spoke so highly of her grandparents. How she loved them. How she gave thanks for her upbringing. She didn’t ever speak unkindly about her father’s decision. Almost until the time of her last breath - she recalled her life with her grandparents - but almost her last words she spoke in this life were - “Mom? Mom? I’m coming!” My mom - who lived to 100 and a half and hadn’t seen her mother for 98 years - called out to her on her death bed. It was touching and emotional for us gathered in her room.

Psalm 68:6 - says - “God sets the lonely in families”. Two babies. No parents. Strong, loving grandparents who stepped in to raise those two little girls to become strong women.

I imagine the 1920’s and 1930’s were not the easiest to raise children. My Mom - a very young girl - would tell us stories about the depression - about the men who would show up at their back door - asking for anything - and her grandmother packing a sack of food for them. So many hungry people.

My grandfather went on to remarry in 1924 and have 6 more children.

Imagine my surprise in the spring of 2022 when I received a letter from the Ministry of the Attorney General/Office of the Public Guardian and Trustee - concerning an aunt who had passed away without a will. My first response - SPAM! But it wasn’t! My cousin had also received such a letter and we decided that she and her brother would follow through and see what was what! A year and a half would go by and not much progress happened.

Fast forward to November 2024. My cousin asked me if I would be interested in working on finding descendants from Grampa Pliny’s second family. Definitely. I was interested.

To make a long story short - thanks to Google - Facebook - Instagram - Ancestry - we have located Grampa’s second family - our Fetterly cousins. One hundred years have passed by since the Fetterly children were born and now their children have found each other. A Fetterly reunion is in the offing - hopefully for this summer.

I think it’s no mistake that my mom was raised by her grandparents. They both died before I was born but I know they both had strong faith - they loved God - they were faithful to attend the Baptist Church in Cornwall - they taught my Mom and my Aunt well and both women grew up to marry strong Christian men - both families staying in the faith that the young girls were raised in. I’m so grateful for our heritage. Psalm 127:3 says that children are a heritage from the Lord. God entrusts parents (and grandparents) with these tiny humans and gives them the responsibility of raising and training those children to know and honour Him.

I love this prayer I found about our Christian heritage - “Gracious Father, we lift our hearts in gratitude for the gift of Christian heritage. Thank you for the faith of those who walked before us, inspiring us with their unwavering trust in You. Forgive us for the times we falter and lose sight of the lessons embedded in the stories of our family. Grant us the wisdom to cultivate an environment where the stories of our Christian ancestors are not forgotten but cherished. May these stories be a source of strength, shaping the foundation of our families and communities.”

I’m grateful for Grampa Pliny. Part of him lives on in me. Strength? Fortitude? Faith? Hopefully the more I get to know my Fetterly cousins, I’ll find out more about my grandfather. I can’t wait.

LITTLE WOMEN

During the Christmas holidays, I watched LITTLE WOMEN with some of my grandchildren and daughters-in-law. It was the 1994 version. I remember the Christmas of 1994 when I put the video of LITTLE WOMEN under our tree and watched it with my own family. I read the book a number of times when I was a little girl. Watching it this year during the holidays renewed my interest in this wonderful book and all the lessons that Alcott weaves into her story.

Louisa May Alcott wrote LITTLE WOMEN loosely based on her own family and relationship with her sisters and parents. The book was first published in the late 1860’s.

Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy, and their mother, whom they call MARMEE, live in Massachusetts in genteel poverty. Having lost all his money, their father is serving as a chaplain for the Union Army in the American Civil War, far from home. The book begins with the mother and daughters facing their first Christmas without him. When Marmee asks them to give their Christmas breakfast away to an impoverished family, the girls and their mother venture into town, laden with baskets, to feed the hungry children. When they return, they discover their wealthy, elderly neighbor, Mr. Laurence, has sent over a decadent surprise dinner, to make up for their breakfast. The two families become acquainted, following these acts of kindness.

Meg and Jo must work to support the family: Meg tutors a nearby family of four children; Jo assists her aged great-aunt March, a wealthy widow living in a mansion in Plumfield. Beth, too timid for school, is content to stay at home and help with housework; and Amy is still at school. Meg is beautiful and traditional, Jo is a tomboy who writes, Beth is a peacemaker and a pianist, and Amy is an artist who longs for elegance and fine society. The sisters strive to help their family and improve their characters, as Meg is vain, Jo is hotheaded, Beth is super shy, and Amy - well she is materialistic. Laurie, Mr. Laurence's orphaned grandson, becomes close friends with the sisters, particularly the tomboyish Jo.

Alcott tells the story so eloquently about the ups and downs - the fights and squabbles - of growing up together in their home. It definitely reminds me somewhat of my home - 4 sisters but add 5 brothers into the mix. The book begins when the girls are young - between 17 and 10 or so.

I relate to this book in so many ways. The scene where Beth (sister #3) passes away rips my heart out every time I watch it. Having lost two of my brothers - Tim in 1994 and Ted in 2023 - my heart breaks over and over again. Losing one’s parents - even losing your spouse - is very different than losing one of your siblings. As I have mentioned, I grew up with 8 sisters and brothers (but mostly my brothers - as my sisters were older and gone from home when I was young) - my brothers are ensconced in my first memories - crawling into their beds to warm up in the early hours of the morning - playing simple games on the register waiting for mom and dad to wake up - my brothers walking me to and from school - my brothers watching out for me - teasing me but caring for me - letting me be one of them.

Here are 5 lessons I relearned from watching LITTLE WOMEN this past week!

#1. Be quick to forgive and even quicker to apologize.

It’s normal for family members to quarrel and even more normal to be angry at each other - but don’t waste your time being mad and resentful. Forgiveness is for our own growth. Jo March said - “life is far too short to be angry at one’s sisters.” This statement comes after a horrendous fight with her youngest sister, Amy. Amy definitely did a horrible thing. She threw Jo’s finished - only manuscript into the fire after not being invited to a party with her older sisters. When Jo comes home and finds out what Amy has done, she is furious and vows never to forgive Amy. A short time later, when Amy falls through the pond while ice skating, Jo realizes that her sister is far more important to her than her cherished book.

There was a time - a long time ago - when I had an unforgiving spirit towards one of my sisters….6 weeks…..I held onto a wee grudge and it was me who suffered most. Finally I made the call - talked it out - asked for forgiveness and promised myself that never again would I hold something against any of my siblings.

#2. Behind a strong woman……are more strong women.

I was raised by the strongest woman I ever met - my Mom - she raised 9 children (born in 1940 - 1958) and we lived solely on my dad’s salary from the paper mill. How she stretched that pay cheque to feed us all (and half the neighbourhood) is beyond me. How she coped with teenagers and babies at the same time was incredible. How she kept our house running smoothly was an example to me. It wasn’t demeaning to her - it was her source of joy. Mom lived to be 100. My older sisters have been a huge blessing and inspiration to me. Teachers and professors. Pastor’s wives. Youth leaders. My daughters-in-law! My grand-daughters! So many beautiful women have helped shape me to be the woman I am today.

#3. Live the story you want to tell.

In the movie, Aunt March felt it was her obligation to be in full control of her nieces’ lives. To this day, there are a lot of people like Aunt March who have so much to say about how others should live their lives but none about their own - telling them what they should do and what they shouldn’t do. Jo spoke for many when she stood up for herself and said that she intends to make her own way in this world.

I think the best compliment I ever received was when someone once said to me - “You aren’t like any pastor’s wife I’ve ever met.” Sometimes Pastor’s wives were put on a pedestal or into a mold and I definitely always marched to my own drummer. I wanted and still do - want to be my own person. I’m strong-willed. I work hard. I play hard. I strive to be better - lift heavier - eat more healthy - try new things - meet new people - see new things! My story is my story. Your story is your story. We don’t need to compare. We need to encourage.

#4. Love means letting go.

Loss is an integral part of life. People really don’t like change. We don’t like it when those we hold close to us die or move away or unfriend us - however the only two constants in life are - change and death. Change was inevitable in the March family. The father went to war. Money was hard to come by. The girls grew up and moved away. Beth became ill and eventually passed away from the effects of her illness.

When I was a young mother - days were long but the years were short. All too soon, the boys were off to university - starting jobs - getting married - having families of their own. To truly love my sons was letting them go - to love their wives and children first and foremost. And isn’t that what love is - putting someone else before yourself? Now our greatest joy is watching and encouraging and blessing our grown children.

It was Mother Teresa who said - “You will teach them to to fly but they will not fly your flight. You will teach them to dream but they will not dream your dream. You will teach them to live but they will not live your life. Nevertheless, in every flight, in every life, in every dream - the print of the way you taught them will remain.”

#5. Stop comparing other people’s dreams to yours.

“Just because my dreams are different from yours doesn’t make them unimportant” said Meg March to her sister, Jo. Meg was getting married and all she wanted to be was a wife and mother and Jo thought it too demeaning for her sister to settle for such a life.

We all have our separate ambitions. We all do things that make us satisfied and grateful and joyful. We mustn’t shame others because they don’t share the same dreams as we do and vice versa. Recently someone said to me that they “played pickle ball for fun - not like you”. One can play any game - any sport - for recreation but also those same sports can be played competitively as well. We must stop comparing and judging.

Okay - just one more! A bonus lesson from the movie. Giving is a greater joy than receiving. In the very first scene in the movie, the sisters sit around the fire complaining about the circumstances the family finds themselves in. Jo grumbles “Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents!” Meg puts in her two cents with - “It’s so dreadful to be poor!” But very quickly we find out that the girls spend their small amount of change on gifts for their mother - not themselves - and then also (reluctantly) take their own Christmas breakfast to a starving family who lives nearby. They were taught well.

I am a gift giver. I love sharing our home and blessings with others. I love seeing the joy on the faces of our grandchildren when they open their birthday or Christmas or “just because” presents. I love arriving at their homes with their favourite muffins and cookies and coffee. There is no greater joy for me. My heart is full.

So - grab a copy of Little Women and either read it yourself or to your children or to your grandchildren - or watch the movie. You will laugh and cry! You will want to be a part of this family. (Even you guys will enjoy it).

Above all - as we begin this new year - let’s all put into practice the lessons learned from the March family.

IT'S BEEN QUITE A YEAR - 2024

It was Hannah Whitall Smith who penned these words - The soul that gives thanks can find comfort in everything. The soul that complains can find comfort in nothing!” I have so much to be thankful for - this past year I have experienced great joy - I have experienced great grief - and through all these immense feelings - I have given thanks. It is not the effort of me alone that a spirit of gratefulness is cultivated - it is through the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. It is the love of God in us. He is the constant in my life - last year - and in the year to come.

Here is a glimpse of 2024 in a nutshell! Pictures are said to say 1000 words - 12,000 words in this essay!!!!

January

My 66th birthday in Barbados!

February

Timmins - hockey tournament!

March

Spring break in Ottawa with all ten Jolliffe grandkids

April

Celebrating my daughters-in-law at St. Anne’s - they have all turned 40

May

Ottawa marathon weekend with Ben and fam

June

Getting ready for Pete and Heather’s big move to Kincardine

July

Lake living

August

Spain - the Camino - Barcelona - Zac and Pete

September

Pickle ball getaway weekend with my friend Julie

October

Ready for Thanksgiving Dinner

November

Getaway to St. Anne’s spa with Laurie and Blaie to celebrate the guy’s birthdays

December

Singing in the Kincardine community choir concert with my friend Cathy.

I once read a story about St. Paul’s Cathedral. A man sees two workers going about their business. One man is laying bricks and is grumbling and complaining. Another man is also laying bricks but he is whistling - smiling!

The man asks the first worker “what are you doing?”

The worker shoots back “Laying bricks! What does it look like I’m doing?”

The man asks the second worker the same question.

The second worker replies “I’m building a great cathedral.”

Both men were doing the same job but only one saw the big picture.

I don’t ever want to lose sight of the big picture - loving my family and friends - serving them - bringing joy into their lives - doing it faithfully - being grateful and thankful.

Bon voyage - 2024!

AND MY WORD for 2025 IS.......

For the last number of years I’ve picked a “word for the year”. It’s kind of like a new year’s resolution but not. Last years word was JOURNEY.

2024 was certainly a journey for me - spiritually, mentally, emotionally and physically. One year ago I quoted my dad who once said to me - “Don’t just arrive at your destination - take time to enjoy the journey!” Funny that he said this as he was always in a hurry to get to the next place.

Another fabulous quote that I read early in 2024 - “And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year - Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown! He replied - ‘go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way!’” And travel with my hand in God’s hand I did and will continue to.

And so the JOURNEY began. Harv and I (physically) visited our family and friends - it seemed we were either coming or then going. Roadtrips were taken east - west - north and south. It is always brings us great joy to spend time with our siblings in their homes - with our children and grandchildren in their homes - with old friends - laughter during shared dinners - tears shed because of disappointments and losses - celebrating birthdays and anniversaries - watching hockey games and running races - judo matches and basketball and volleyball games.

The biggest highlight of the year was our trip to Spain in the summertime - to walk part of the Camino Trail. Zac, Pete and I left Toronto on July 31st and flew overnight to Porto, Portugal - where a driver met us and drove us to Sarria, Spain - where we would begin our 120 km walk. Sarria - Portomarin - Palas de Rei - Arzua - Pedrouzo - Santiago de Compostela. After completing our walk, we flew to Barcelona and toured the La Familia and Monseratt Monastary and spent some well deserved rest at the beach. It was the trip of a lifetime as we remembered the 10th anniversary of Randy’s passing into Glory. I’d like to go back to Spain someday and walk more of the Camino. Anyone want to join me?

I continued to cultivate the spiritual part of me - by getting up (often) earlier than Harv and reading a portion of the Bible - reflecting and meditating on what it says and how it applies to my life and writing in my journal. I wrote this verse in my journal last May - Luke 22:32 - “I (Jesus) have prayed for Thee”. I’m totally blown away that the Christ of the universe prays and pleads for me. He advocates for me. Consider this - Jesus said He will pray for me that my strength will not fail. Day and night He points to the wounds in His hands and feet and side and carries my name to the heavenly Father. Even before the evil one tries to get to me, Jesus stalls him and has entered a plea in heaven on my behalf. Amazing. What love. These truths bless me and cause me to lean into Him - more completely and fully. In those early hours of the day I also pray - for my kids and grandkids - for my siblings - for friends and acquaintances who have great needs, for our country and our world leaders - sometimes for someone I don’t even know but someone has asked me to pray.

My journey - emotionally - this year - has continued to cultivate gratefulness even during the hard moments. There have been some messy times. There have been strained conversations. There has also been laughter and so much joy that my heart overflows. Through it all I focus on joy and peace rather than anger and resentment. I learned a long time ago that it’s better to be thankful for what I have rather than becoming bitter for what I don’t have. I’m continuing to learn that things like - long baths, page turning novels, quiet Saturday morning, stars, oceans, Christmas lights, the sound of my grandchildren in the house, watching the hockey games with Harv, phone calls from my kids and siblings, coffee with friends - are really things that bring me much joy.

I’ve grown mentally this year too. I’ve spent time writing and reading each week. My weekly blog was a goal lasts January and here we are with only one more week to go in the old year. Pete and Heather gave me a Christmas gift last year which would see me write a chapter a week of my life journey - fifty one chapters are completed - one more to go. I’ve read a lot of books and even more poetry. I love World War Two stories. I love easy beach reads. I love autobiographies. I love to read anything by C.S. Lewis and I love to listen to podcasts to of my favourite preachers - Ben Jolliffe and Tim Keller.

Take note of this quote that I penned in my journal this year - it’s by Ralph Waldo Emerson -

Write it on your heart - that every day is the best day of the year. She is rich who owns the day and no one owns the day who allows it to be invaded with fret and anxiety. Finish every day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities, no doubt crept in. Forget them as soon as you can, tomorrow is a new day. Begin it well and serenely, with too high a spirit to be cumbered with your old nonsense. This new day is too dear - with its hopes and invitations - to waste a moment on the disappointments of yesterday.

Dad - I have enjoyed the journey this year. I took the time. I slowed down (a bit). I relaxed and was in the present. I listened more. I tried not to speak too quickly. I loved well.

And now…….the word for 2025. I’m not sure how it will all come to pass but this word has been on my heart for a number of weeks……

GATHER - so many opportunities for this word to come to fruition come to my mind - “to collect things - from different places” - “to put your arms around someone and hold and carry them in a careful and loving way” - “to become faster, stronger” - “to make a greater effort to be stronger and braver and more courageous” - “to make myself ready to do something special or difficult or challenging”.

Some similar words that come to my mind - assemble, congregate, combine, connect, merge, arrange, concentrate, join, rally, forage, understand, surmise - to name a few.

I’m excited to see how my word for 2025 plays out in my life.

Interesting - you betcha.

Challenging - always.

To quote my granddaughter - “Bring it on! I was born ready.”

I HAVE A DATE NEXT WEEK WITH MY OLDEST SON

It all began in the summer when we were walking the Camino in Spain.

No it began 35 years ago or so!

It really began 283 years - when a composer by the name of George Frideric Handel composed one of the most famous oratorios of all time.

Handel composed Messiah, an English language oratorio that traces the story of Jesus Christ, in 1741. Messiah was first performed in Dublin on 13 April 1742 and received its London premiere nearly a year later. The Messiah has gained in popularity throughout these last few hundred years and has become one of the best-known and most frequently performed choral pieces in Western music. The ‘Hallelujah’ chorus is one of the most famous pieces of Baroque choral music and the most widely known section of the work. Though it was originally written for Easter, Handel’s eminently singable Messiah has also become a mainstay of the festive season.

Handel deliberately kept the dramatic content of his Messiah understated – it was in church after all. He created a piece based on three concepts: the story of the nativity and its prophecy; that of the crucifixion and redemption of mankind; and a commentary on the Christian soul and its victory over death. In each of these three parts, the chorus is absolutely at the heart of the work, complemented by four vocal soloists and an orchestra.

Those forces deliver some of Handel’s most heart-stopping music – dramatic and effective, profoundly touching and spiritual.

Handel composed Messiah in just 24 days without getting much sleep and or eating much food. While writing the ‘Hallelujah’ chorus Handel’s servant discovered him with tears in his eyes, and he exclaimed, “I did think I did see all Heaven before me, and the great God Himself seated on His throne, with His company of Angels.”

My love affair with Handel’s Messiah began in my late 20’s. We had just moved to Listowel to begin our pastorate there and I was looking for ways to be involved in our community - meet new friends etc. I joined the Listowel Community Singers and I sang with the choir for ten years. We performed parts of the Messiah every year - sometimes at Christmas and sometimes at Easter. Someone once said to me that they had attended one of the performances and watched me sing. They said they could tell I was enjoying myself. I replied to them that I did enjoy singing such a fantastic piece of music but mostly because I believe the words.

It wasn’t until I moved to Kincardine 8 years ago that I had the opportunity to sing the Messiah again. This year would have been my eighth time - only - in early fall of this year, those in charge of the presentation were not able to make the commitment this year. I was so disappointed - for so many reasons.

Last December, just before we performed the Messiah here in Kincardine, I received a text from Zac. He was in Toronto, with a friend, sitting in Roy Thompson Hall, getting ready for curtains up. His friend had invited him to the performance featuring the Toronto Symphonyt Orchestra and the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir. Not only were they in the audience, they had been upgraded into box seats. I was so excited for Zac. What an evening. I couldn’t even imagine how wonderful that would be.

Fast forward to this summer when Zac, Pete and I walked the Camino. We talked about that night in Toronto and also about the many times I had sung it. Then Zac said something to me that brought tears to my eyes……he told me that in all the years I had been singing it, he hadn’t come to hear me since living at home. This year - he said - “I’m coming to Kincardine to hear your performance in the Messiah!”

How excruciatingly disappointing to tell him it wasn’t happening this year.

How amazingly ecstatic when he called to tell me he got tickets to take me to Toronto to hear the Messiah at Roy Thompson Hall.

A date with my son.

Do you know why the audience stands up when the choir bursts into the Hallelujah chorus? It’s because the King of England did when he heard it performed the first time. How could anyone possible sit?

The last chorus of the oratorio is called WORTHY IS THE LAMB THAT WAS SLAIN. Worthy is the Lamb that was slain - and hath redeemed us to God by His blood - to receive power, and riches and wisdom and strength and honour, and glory and blessing. (The piece begins slowly - powerfully - full of rich phrasing and expectation.) Blessing and honour, glory and pow’r be unto Him, be unto Him - that sitteth upon the throne and unto the Lamb. (The piece continues to build - each part taking turns with the lead - until it hits almost a fever pitch.) Forever, forever, and ever and ever! (And then comes the Amens!) The basses begin, then the tenors, the altos and finally the sopranos - the Amens rising and falling to the dramatic conclusion to his magnificent work. I’m always breathless at the end. Not so much that I’m tired of singing - I’m exhilarated at the wonder and praise and awe of singing these praises to our Lord.

Singing or listening to the Messiah is really a little piece of our future - a glimpse of Heaven - a preparation for what’s to come.

If you have the opportunity to go to a local presentation this year - run don’t walk.

You won’t be disappointed.

THE BEST CHRISTMAS PAGEANT EVER

Every child should have the opportunity to play a part in the Christmas story - Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, sheep, angels, the wisemen, the innkeeper. It’s the story that changed everything. From the beginning of time - Creation - everything pointed to the Cradle - then the Cross and finally one day - ReCreation! But at this time of year - we focus on the Cradle.

When I was in grade three I played the part of Mary in my school - Gladstone Public - in Cornwall. I remember the long blue dress (that my mom made for me), the off-white scarf that wrapped around my head and the sandals for my feet - my costume. I remember singing the carol - Away In a Manger - as a solo. It was a magical evening (as I remember) with all the parents and friends gathered in the school gym. When I held that doll in my arms, I imagined the first Mary - the real Mary - so willing and obedient to be the mother of Christ.

One of the most memorable pageants that I helped organize was held at the Sunbeam Centre in Kitchener, Ontario.” Our Sunbeam Community Living Services (CLS) division offers inclusive living programs including group home living and two overnight respite sites providing the care, accommodation and support needs of children and adults across Waterloo Region.”

I had the special opportunity of working at the Sunbeam Centre in the mid 2000’s. I was the music specialist and events co-ordinator. I broached the idea of putting on the Christmas Pageant with the administrator and she gave me the go-ahead. The day-program children and adults would play the parts….and play those parts they did - with all the earnestness of a Hollywood production. Each participant took their role very seriously.

Joseph stood beside a very solemn Mary - with his arm protectively around her shoulder. Mary sang out in her clear, sweet voice, “What Child Is This?”. The angels were decked out in very white robes and gold halos and said their lines with conviction…..”Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom His favour rests.” The shepherds were dressed in housecoats and towels on their heads, staffs in hand….sheep baaing all around. The wisemen and wise women were glorious in satin robes with crowns upon their heads and presents of gold, frankincense and myrrh. There wasn’t a dry eye in the auditorium. Each one performed with grace and great joy. I’ll never forget it.

In December of 2009, my siblings and I made the trip from eastern Ontario to Lancaster, Pennsylvania to Sight and Sound Productions to see their Christmas Presentation.

We travelled back in time to Bethlehem as the original Christmas story unfolded all around us. We Journeyed alongside Mary and Joseph, a flock of surprised shepherds, and three wise-men, along with their camels! There may be no room at the inn, but God had a lowly stable prepared as the angels announce the coming of the Messiah! We experienced the MIRACLE OF CHRISTMAS as it came to life.

As I watched this live presentation all those years ago, I remember being sadly surprised at how repressed the Jewish people were in those days - how the Romans ruled with an iron fist - and yet, the Jews eagerly awaited the coming Messiah. They never gave up waiting. Another amazing highlight from the show was the scene just after Jesus was born. The stable scene was quiet - the stage lights were on dim - just above the manger a figure in black hovered - the devil - with a sword held high ready to plunge into the newborn baby Jesus. From high above the room - an angel dressed in white - came flying across the ceiling (on a zip line I’m sure) and totally wiped out the dark angel. What a glorious moment.

The last scene in that presentation was majestic and sent shivers up and down my spine. The actor portraying Jesus was seated on a throne and around him was gathered myriads of angels - singing Hallelujah. It seemed the angels were everywhere - hanging from the ceiling - on the floor - on risers - hundreds of them. As they sang, Jesus was raised on a platform until he was high above everyone and everything. It gave me a glimpse of heaven.

And just last week, Harv and I drove up to Owen Sound to the movie theatre to watch - The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. It featured the Herdmans.

The Herdmans are the worst kids in the history of the world. They lie, steal, smoke cigars, swear, and hit little kids. So no one is prepared when this outlaw family invades church one Sunday and decides to take over the annual Christmas pageant.

None of the Herdmans has ever heard the Christmas story before. Their interpretation of the tale -- the Wise Men are a bunch of dirty spies and Herod needs a good beating -- has a lot of people up in arms. But it will make this year's pageant the most unusual anyone has seen and, just possibly, the best one ever.

Imogene (the oldest sister) plays the part of Mary, She’s rough and tough and fiercely protects her younger siblings…..just the same way she fiercely holds and hugs (and burps) the baby Jesus. The church is absolutely quiet as she tenderly holds the baby Jesus and tears roll down her cheeks. She gets it. She gets Who and why Christ came. For people like her. For people like me.

This year as you hear the carols - listen to the familiar readings from the Bible - see your children or grandchildren share their version of the manger scene - feel the emotions of the meaning of Christmas - let it permeate down deep. Let your life be changed. Take a moment or two or three and let the Babe of Bethlehem renew your heart with peace and joy.

IT ALL STARTED WITH A PAIR OF MINI GLOVES

I was part of a running group when we lived in Cambridge. We were called the Harriers and we ran Tuesday and Thursday evenings and Saturday mornings. Randy and I thoroughly enjoyed this group of runners and became close friends with many of them.

We joined the group in early fall and I was surprised one evening that the temperature had dipped and I wasn’t prepared. Cue - my new friend - HL - and her offer of a pair of red mini gloves to keep my hands warm. At the end of the evening, HL encouraged me to keep them. I had them for years.

I learned to run in all sorts of weather - some of those nights were perfect - warm - t-shirt weather! Other nights were dark - cold - snowy - rainy - bundle up kind of weather! Regardless - you would find 20 or 25 of us out there - warmup run through Galt - and then our Coach would give us our workout. Those running days were the best. Often times in the warm-up - HL and I would run side by side. We talked about a lot of things on those runs - emotions, family, jobs, love, faith and so much more.

Several months after our first few runs and the gift of those red mini gloves - HL- asked if she could come to my house to chat. I couldn’t even imagine what she wanted to talk about. HL knew that Randy and I pastored a local church in Cambridge at that time and as we had often chatted about faith - that’s exactly what was on her mind that evening. HL grew up in a church but that particular denomination did not encourage a personal commitment to God and with God. It was my privilege and honour to share the good news of Christ - about Christmas and Easter and faith - with HL that night. Her life changed completely. That evening cemented our own relationship and HL became my little sister in more ways than one.

Shortly after that night, Randy and I moved to Westport, Ontario. HL often came for weekends to see us - we ran together - we shopped - and - she loved spoiling our dog, Maggie. It was later that year that the phone rang one evening and HL said she had met someone…….she would become HC…..and asked me to be her matron-of-honour.

We went shopping in Toronto for our dresses - in Chinatown - as HL wanted to connect with her soon - to - be in-laws. When we walked in one of the stores, the attendant took one look at me and HL’s sister-in-law and commented that we were “too big” to shop in her store. We ended up buying amazing kimonos and wore them over black gowns.

HL became HC and our friendship continued to grow. It was my privilege to attend her baptism and stand up for her at her wedding.

HC has always lived in the Kitchenr/Waterloo/Cambridge area but no matter where I moved to - we always managed to visit at least once a month - all these years.

When Randy passed away in 2014, HC came to Everett once a week for the first several months - (pretending it was to workout and run) but I knew she wanted to bless me with her friendship. When I met Harv and told her I was getting married again, she was so excited for me. Once again, she has made countless trips to Kincardine - to hang out and shop in our beautiful downtown. We’ve spent endless hours sitting on the beach - sharing stories of marriage and fitness and faith - family and friends. A couple of years ago, I cheered HC as she ran her first full marathon in Toronto.

This fall - HC - was diagnosed with a difficult disease. My “little sister” is facing some hard days ahead but the God whom she trusted for her life all those years ago is the One whom she is leaning into these days like never before.

The Psalms are especially special and comforting…..Psalm 9:10 - “Those who know your Name will trust in You - for You, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek You.” Psalm 5:3 “In the morning, O Lord, You hear my voice, in the morning I lay my requests before You and wait in expectation.” Psalm 33:18 “But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear Him, on those whose hope is in His unfailing love.”

Never underestimate the power of sharing - especially if they happen to be - red mini gloves.

Love you HC.

MY VERY FAVOURITE RESTAURANTS

We didn’t eat out very often when I was a child. In fact - before I was ten or eleven, I only recall eating in a restaurant once. It must have been costly for a family of eleven to eat in a restaurant. I’m not sure what we were celebrating - maybe my parent’s anniversary or something, but all eleven of us dressed up in our “Sunday best” and went out for dinner. I remember people gawking at our big family. Now, what I wouldn’t give to go out with all of us together.

In high school, my parents often took Phil, Tim and I to the Ponderosa Steak House. It was a chain back in the day that sold really inexpensive steaks but it was fun.

I love food. I love cooking. We don’t eat out often when we are home - mostly only on vacation. 

Some of the best food I’ve ever eaten was on our honeymoon in Jamaica. Harv and I stayed at the Couple’s Resort and every night we were not disappointed with the entree’s and desserts. 

I’ve enjoyed some yummy restaurants during the time we’ve spent in Florida over the last few years. When we arrived two years ago at Indian Shores, it was the gold medal game of the World Juniors and Canada was playing. There was a sports bar near our condo where we knew we could watch the game - so we called Bob and Lynn to see if they would like to join us. Sure enough - they did. We arrived around 5:45 and and enjoyed the atmosphere and anticipation of the upcoming game. We ordered burgers and fries! We cheered for our boys and when the game went into overtime, we ordered dessert - Key Lime Pie! It was a delightful evening of food, friendship and a big gold medal win for our Canadian boys!

That same year - 2023 - Ted and Irene joined Bob and Lynn and Harv and I in Florida. Harry and Marg came down for a week as well so January was a fun month. My birthday is January 26 and the eight of us went out for breakfast at a fun restaurant on Golf Blvd called Sweet Sage Cafe. That birthday breakfast has a bitter/sweet memory for me. The food was fantastic as always, but it is the last time we had a meal together with Ted. Shortly after this day, Ted found out he had cancer and he went Home to be with the Lord, just three months later. I’ll always cherish that special month in Florida with him.

For many years I have heard of St. Anne’s Spa at Grafton, Ontario and in April of this year, I took my three daughters-in-law there for a weekend to celebrate their 40th birthdays. The grounds of the Spa are spectacular. The atmosphere is wonderful. The treatments were amazing. But the food…….was outstanding. Four wonderful meals a day! Breakfast. Lunch. Afternoon Tea. Supper. Superb! No need to ever be hungry. We brought snacks with us and didn’t even open the bags.

My most magical meal though - cooked in a restaurant - occurred this past summer - when Zac and Pete and I were in Barcelona. After completing our 120 km walk along the Camino Trail - from Sarria to Santiago de Compostela - we flew to Barcelona for 2 and a half days. Finally I was able to embrace the wonderful European lifestyle of eating later in the evening. 

The first day in Barcelona we swam in the Mediterranean Sea and toured the Familia Sagrada - the largest unfinished Catholic church in the world. It was designed by architect Antoni Gaudi (1852-1926) and is now designated as a Unesco World Heritage Site. It was a spectacular experience to visit the cathedral. 

At the end of this busy day, we rested in our hotel room - showered and dressed for a night on the town. Very near to our hotel, was a magnificent square of restaurants and shops. We stopped at one and ordered drinks - watched the people arriving for the evening and chatted about our day.  We then walked along the side streets around the square and decided on a smaller, family owned restaurant. That night I ordered Paella. It was definitely the tastiest meal I’ve ever eaten in my whole life. Rice - saffron - vegetables - and chicken - served in a pan. It was 9 pm and I was eating supper.

We wondered back to the square and found a table and ordered dessert and coffee and drinks. 11 pm. Look at me. Totally embracing the culture. 

I don’t think I’ll ever eat a rice dish again without remembering that amazing night in Barcelona with Zac and Pete, indulging my taste buds with the best of Spanish cooking. 

"One cannot think well, love well, sleep well if one has not dined well." - M.F.K. Fisher

AGING GRATEFULLY

"Don't regret growing older. It's a privilege denied to many." (Mark Twain)

Me! Circa 1959

Time, the relentless tide, carries us forward, each passing moment etching lines on our faces and stories in our hearts. It's a journey that some never get to experience.

I’m soon approaching my 67th birthday. Bring it on. I’ve got the lines - I’ve got the stories - I’ve got family and friends - I’ve had the heartaches but I’ve had so much joy too - I’ve got the memories - I have albums filled with pictures - and now - a phone filled with photos - that I look at over and over again. I cherish these stories. I ponder over the journey of my life so far and embrace the ups and downs, the comings and goings - grateful to experience so much.

Let’s not lament the passage of time, the inevitable advancement of age. Instead, embrace it as a gift, a testament to resilience, a capacity for growth, and enduring spirit.

So…..I embrace these days and months and years. I go to the gym and lift heavy somedays and other days - not so much. I play pickle ball as often as I can - some days the games go well and other days - not quite. I get my 10,000 steps in each day. Right now I’m walking the full camino (on my garmin) and I’m a quarter of the way there (200 kms done). I cook good meals for Harv and I - and for our family and friends. I bake. I read. I write. I play endless games of SkipBo with Indy. I talk to my older brothers and sisters each week. I go to church each Sunday. I read my Bible daily and pray and meditate. I sing. We travel.

Each year that passes is a chapter in our story, a chance to learn, to love, to experience the world in all its beauty.

Hiking the Camino in Spain.

Enjoying the beaches of Barbados.

I celebrate the wisdom that comes with age, the lessons learned, the scars that tell tales of battles won.

There have been times when I’ve battled - I’ve fought - not physically - but emotionally and spiritually. When Randy and I and our boys lived in Cambridge, our pastoral ministry became complicated as some of our congregation desired that we should be relieved of our pastoral duties. (I just said that in a nice way - they wanted to and eventually fired us). It was a painful time. It wounded us but the wound wasn’t fatal. We healed over time. We had family and friends to stand with us - encourage us - love us. We were reminded that our pastoral service was to the Lord and He gave us great grace to walk through and maneuver a difficult time in our lives.

There have been times in my life when a relationship has changed - perhaps even ended! Where once there was laughter and shared companionship - it was replaced by complacency and indifference. The older I get, I realize that relationships do change. Some are meant to last a lifetime and some are meant to last a season and that’s okay.

I love the verse that says - “the joy of the Lord is my strength”. Gratitude and joy go hand in hand.

Nancy Demoss writes - “Over time, choosing gratitude means choosing joy. . . . It’s a choice that requires constantly renewing my mind with the truth of God’s Word, setting my heart to savor God and His gifts, and disciplining my tongue to speak words that reflect His goodness and grace—until a grateful spirit becomes my reflexive response to all of life.”

Let us cherish the moments, savour the memories, and appreciate the gift of life, for it is a precious treasure.

May we grow old with grace, with gratitude, and with a heart filled with the joy.