Faith, Family, Friendship

Yesterday I attended a funeral for one of my mother's two best friends.

When I called the hospital to check on Mrs. C, I ended up speaking with her daughter instead.

"I am heartbroken that I couldn't attend Mrs. F's funeral," she said.

Although I knew what she meant, I also knew that if Mrs. F were alive, she would agree that Pauline was exactly where she needed to be.

Our mothers came from a generation that knew what Faith, Family and Friendship meant. They had met at a Toronto hospital where two were RNs and the third was an RNA. At 6, I didn't know that I would be 45 before I said goodbye to either of them but that's what happened.

Mrs. F was formidable. A woman who raised her three girls without complaint then went on to contribute to the rearing of her daughter's daughters by providing them with shelter, money, energy and endless support. Although I occasionally remember her wishing that one daughter or another would make a different choice, she was always very  much in tune with who they were as people. She didn't hid their faults, she accepted them and looked for ways to lead them down meaningful pathways.

People are not friends anymore they way that they were friends. I haven't met

 

THIRTEEN

This newly-minted teen is blessed with the surety that she holds all the keys to the universe and the stubbornness to try them all in the lock rather than believe anyone who tells her which one opens a particular lock. She is becoming adept at questioning the boundaries before pushing up against them to see if they will hold. Her mouth is still more likely to smile than disrespect. Her eyes more familiar with creasing in laughter than filling with tears; they sparkle with a newly developing sense of self and twinkle with a secret future. Not yet tested or broken, her heart beats to the rhythm of her violin, her flute, or her voice. She is exactly what we hoped she would be wrapped up in all the surprises we didn’t expect. 

Happy Birthday Athena,

your laughter remains the most beautiful music you offer this world.

Day by Day

One by one (sometimes by two)

my leaves change 

and 

so do you

not all at once 

as often prayed

but day 

by day 

by day 

by day

by God my God and God alone

who sits upon His heavenly throne

one by one my leaves will fall

until I’ve lost them one and all

I’ll stand naked in the wind

and catch the snow when it begins

look! already you can see

my leaves preparing to leave me

it’s August yet the signs are there

the change of life is in the air

the nights no longer hold the heat

seasons are set on looped-repeat

give no thought dear have no care

enjoy my foliage while it’s there

just like I”m changing, 

so are you

by God my God makes you anew

my leaves, your sins He takes away

day by 

day by 

day by 

day

like me you’ll stand there in the wind

stripped bare admit it! You have sinned!

you’ll bow your limbs against the cold

onto your knee you’ll bend and fold

like me you’ll yield your will to His

there is no other way than this

until you’re more like Him than not

’til nakedness is all you’ve got

then he’ll clothe you as He does

with grace and faith and hope and love

then the fruits will start to bud

from underneath the dirt and crud

not all at once but one by one

that’s how our Saviour’s work is done.

- Vera Patterson

Mama’s Children

Bleary-eyed Mama peels 

creased cheek from 

tear-soaked pillow

simultaneously shushing the child 

inside and outside herself until 

one of them is satiated by the breast

she empties

into its eager mouth 

all the while

wishing there was

someone 

from whom she could

make lusty demands 

Because

like baby 

Mama needs someone 

she can

trust

to nourish her.

Mama traces circles gently

on her baby’s

back

until bubbles of

air come up

and out

all the while

wishing there was 

someone

to coax the painful things

secretly hidden

deep within

her

into the open so the

discomfort she lives

with can be

released.

Mama shifts her baby

kissing

the tender head

wishing there was

someone

she could reveal all the soft

vulnerable places of herself

to

knowing that someone would

love her more for knowing

Mama needs extra care in

the places

 where she isn’t finished

yet.

Mama opens the diaper

wrinkling her nose

at the smell

yet wishing there was

someone

who acknowledged 

but didn’t turn away

or shame her for

the less pleasant parts

of her

that need

to be wiped clean, aired out, 

changed.

and like Mama

that someone would have to 

do it again and again

until she

grows.

Mama wraps her baby 

tightly

wishing there was

someone

with whom she could

feel warm,

secure, loved

and

that someone

would keep her safe

Because

like baby Mama feels

scared and alone

sometimes.

Mama moves slow

through the house 

silent

mentally calculating

when baby will need her next

until

the child she pushed aside

inside begins to

whimper.

Mama falls 

on the dry pillow

and allows the child to 

wet it again.

- Vera Patterson

STOKED

My feet have strayed 

from hallowed ground

the flames are closing

all around

I need you Lord

yes I believe

that I have sinned

I was deceived

I wanted something

not of you

as often we

mere mortals do

I run around

I scream and shout

But find there is just

no way out

I seek Your face

and You appear

to whisper sweetly

in my ear

Hold My hand child

though you strayed

I’m with you now

I am the way

In the fire

You are here

You walk so close

You draw me near

You tug my hand

say Walk on child

neither flame

nor heat is wild

You’re in control

of what it burns

eternal life is

Your concern

You are the refuge

from the heat

in this furnace

where we meet

You are the refuge

from the flame

there is no need

to search in vain

You are the one

Who’ll see me through

if I just keep

my eyes on You

I will not fail

to persevere

draw closer Lord

and I’ll not fear

You are the refuge

that I seek

Because my heart and 

flesh are weak

In these flames

I start to sweat

my story

isn’t over yet

My God, My Lord

He overcame

so build a fire

stoke the flame

fasten the chains 

of sin and shame

The Glory?

It is His, you’ll see

Because His love

has set me free

Again.

- Vera Patterson

 

Growth

The biggest bird I’ve ever seen

filled the sky and then my screen

formed of air and formed of mist

for but a moment to exist

suspended there with widespread wings

embracing me and everything

embracing all that it could reach

a lesson here for me to teach

for but a moment... yes that’s true

just a blink for me, for you

time is ticking soon it ends

we lose our patience, lose our friends

we lose our things we lose our light

the day gives way unto the night

we lose our joy, we lose our love

we lose our faith in God above

we lose the laughter, lose our grip

we lose our footing then we slip

we lose our childhood then our youth

we lose sight of what’s the truth

we lose time, we lose the day

we lose our chance, we lose our way

we lose the peace we fought to gain

we lose our mind we go insane

we lose our strength we lose our sight

we lose our cool and start to fight

we lose our dream, we lose our hope

lose all ability to cope

we lose our kids we lose our car

we lose all sense of who we are

we lose our parents, lose some weight

we lose our hair our eyes go faint

we lose so much it’s hard to know

how losing things can help us grow

and yet it does or so it seems

we grow some insight to our needs

we grow some balls, we grow a spine

grow out of saying “No, it’s fine”

we grow some wings, we grow some sense

we drop the need for all pretence

we grow some wisdom, grow some light

grow used to shadows in the night

we grow in touch with all we are

we grow used to battle scars

we grow weak or we grow strong

grow used to sometimes being wrong

we grow up, we grow old

we grow meek, we grow bold

we grow a voice that’s all our own

we stop expecting blood from stone

we grow patience we grow wealth

then understand that time is stealth

we grow sick we grow weary

we look around and we grow teary

we grow wistful for the time

before our age started to climb

for but a moment to exist

formed of air and formed of mist

filled the sky and then my screen

the biggest bird I’ve ever seen.

- Vera Patterson

 Prepared

From the sky and from the air

he watches me but I’m not scared.

My Father also watches on

as does His ever precious Son.

Eyes on me! He commands

I am the Shepherd and the Lamb

I am the way, the truth, the life

the evil one will bring you strife.

Know he’s there, be not afraid

it is for Me you have been made.

One life, one sky, One to be feared

one voice to raise, one God revered.

Your only hope, the Holy One

I’ll grant you life when life is done.

This one can only watch and tempt

In Me your soul can rest, repent

Eyes on me! He commands

I am the Shepherd and the Lamb

I will find you in the storm

from my hand you’ll not be torn.

I’ll wait for you with love and grace

resist the ways he tests your faith.

Turn to me, take my hand, 

heed my words, keep my commands.

The devil wants to steal your gaze

with eyes on Me you’ll not be fazed.

Just like these clouds that soon will pass

the life he offers will not last.

Look past my child, I wait above

to shower you with hope and love

Ignore this one who watches on

he’ll steal your soul and you’ll be gone

From the sky and from the air

he watches me but I’m prepared.

- Vera Patterson

 

This is me at the beginning of each day

killing it!

Jumping high

OVERCOMING

every obstacle.

That back leg though...

It’s

Despair

self-pity

anger

pride.

Sometimes it clears

I land

jubilantly

sometimes it 

knocks,

trips me up

knocks me out

and I feel

blindsided

In this moment I remember as I approach

the hurdle -

jumping is up to

ME

but being airborne?

That is

GOD.

If I FOCUS on 

HIM

I clan clear the challenge.

If I FOCUS on

ME

well...

That back leg right?

If I take credit for clearing the

hurdle

stop to celebrate

MYSELF

momentum will carry me crashing

into the next

hurdle

If I remember

IT WAS GOD

and it will

NEED

to be Him again in

3.2 seconds

I am more likely

to jump and be jubilant

that

HE is a PROMISE KEEPER

who carries me

EVERY

time that 

I TRUST HIM

- Vera Patterson

 

He seeks me.

From deep down in my soul

He bids me Waken!

Follow! Obey!

He seeks me.

Stalks my dreams

Imbuing the with ribbons of hope

for a life not contained by

these fingers, these toes.

A life where skin

dissolves, where my light

re-emerges.

He seeks me.

From a space within

where words from lips

maintain shape,

not transforming between my tongue

and his ears

confusing who I am and what

I need.

He seeks me.

Offering 

more of Him

in exchange for

more of me...

stripping me naked

all the while calling me

Beautiful Creation!

Daughter! Beloved!

He seeks me.

Over 

the mountains

through

the valleys

in the

meadows

in the

sunshine

in the

wind

in the throws of

every storm

offering

a crevice in

His expansive hand

where I curl up and

rest

before 

rising from dreams

imbued with ribbons of hope

to seek 

Him

- Vera Patterson

Cross words

Beat me, shame me all you can

 I am the lion and the lamb

When I die you shall be free

 It is the man you kill in me

I never sinned, I never strayed

I will rise beyond the grave.

My father waits and He is pleased

that I have suffered your dis-ease 

You disbelieved that I am He

To your salvation holds the key.

Father? Forgive them one and all

On your merciful grace I call.

You were right, they all are lost

My precious blood will pay the cost

It will redeem them when it’s shed

The sacrificial lamb be bled

Father! Father! Bring me home

To sit beside you on your throne

Your will for me, it is complete

I die in glory not defeat.

My sheep? Your sins He’ll not condone

And so for them I have atoned

Come my child, sit at my feet

It’s in your need that we shall meet.

 I am your shepherd and the Light

 I will keep you through the night.

It is my blood that cleans your slate 

Young or old it’s not too late.

Tell me... whisper what you’ve done

I’ll lead you home my precious one

When you believe you are the host

for Father Son and Holy Ghost

I am the One, the Great I am 

I wait to love you all I can.

 

- Vera Patterson

ANGEL

The sky is blue the feather’s white

my angel stayed all through the night

she watched me cry, she heard my wails,

reminded me of Jesus’ nails.

I shook my fist, I ranted, raved

She said His love led to the grave.

It isn’t fair! I moaned and sighed

She said you’re right, for you He died

He took your sin He gave His life

and you are stuck on earthly strife?

Where is your hope for what’s to come?

Where do your help and strength come from?

Your lack of faith is so absurd

put on your helmet, shield and sword!

Even now He sent me here

so you would know He’s always near.

Cry and rave but in the end

you’ll bend your knee, begin again.

you’ll follow Him as close you can

you will repent, yield to his plan.

Let it go, your need for this

your joy, my child is found in His.

Delight the Lord… make Him smile

rest in His grace, abide a while

You’ll find that you will want to stay

He planned your life to be this way.

She took my hand, she dried my face

He died, she whispered in your place

His perfect life was used for you

Trust in Him and be renewed!

The sky is blue, the feather’s white

my angel stayed all through the night.

NINE

I had the pleasure of taking these two cuties to Ripley's Aquarium this weekend. As we wandered around looking at the exhibits, it dawned on me that this place was more than just a venue to look at sea creatures, it's a microcosm of the ocean... but more importantly, it is a microcosm of life.

A large group of people above the water contains the same variations as the creatures we marvelled at in the tanks: they were many different colours and species; some fish travelled in schools while others travelled alone; some creatures worked together to better the environment and others were just there because they literally had nowhere else to go.

When this shark swam by, I was like, "Look at those teeth!" then, "Yeah... too bad people who are predators don't have their sharp whites out there like that so everyone knows up front who they are and what they are about." Don't worry... I said it to myself!

"What about the baby sharks?" You ask.  I have to admit to finding them cute but Athena almost touched one by accident when she reached into a tank to pet a stingray. The baby shark was swimming underneath and slipped out just as her hand came down. Human sharks can be like this also...hiding in the shadows then slipping out at opportune moments looking all cute and safe. "Don't touch the shark," the Aquarium employee shouted, startling us all. Thank God for his warning. Even when we watch for danger we don't always see it right there, hidden in plain sight.


We were patient and waited. When the coast was clear, we did pet the stingrays. So smooth and cool to the touch and much like many people I know, safe to hang out with if you don't ruffle their feathers but trigger their defences and you'll know it when they sting you.

Jellyfish too though they don't have to be triggered... they are just always going to sting you, no matter what, if you get on their wrong side, which is well...just about every side.

If you think the Aquarium lesson ended when the exhibits were over, we had to exit through the gift shop, a place full of shiny things designed to catch your eye but which on closer inspection prove themselves to be mostly junk. Rather than grab at the pinkest, cutest or shiniest thing, if you take your time to search, you can usually find something of substance and value hidden amongst the rubbish. I set out to encourage this...

But then I remembered that she's NINE! Unicorns, the tooth fairy and Santa exist... I am still almost always right. I remembered that my bed is the comfiest place for her to sleep and she hasn't realized that she really is too heavy to be sitting on my lap. So I bought the stuffed seahorse with the hearts and pastel colours that made her voice rise two octaves when she talked about how much she loved it. I also bought her a handful of candy from the bulk station just because I wanted to see her smile her crooked smile and skip her crooked-legged skip all the way back to the GO station. I bought them for her friend as well because I know the only thing better than having one happy nine year old is having two.

I filled the empty shopping bags with their discarded jackets, balancing the weight of their baggage from a pace behind. I watched their free arms swing while their others clutched the seahorse tight to their sides, the stuffed heads bouncing in their little-girl grasps and smiled inside knowing there is still so much time before she understands even half of this - thank God.

Happy Birthday!

Danger! Keep Out!

Many North American cities experienced flooding this Spring. I have watched the news reports, silently horrified for those affected and the homes full of loving memories which have been lost. On a recent visit to the docks in Port Dalhousie, I noticed this sign and a truth about who I am hit me.


I wouldn't dream of walking over or around the barriers to explore how deep the water is. I am not tempted to wade up to the fence to see what's going on.

Ninety-nine percent of the time I obey signs. I don't ignore or walk past "danger".  I handle packages marked as "fragile" with care. I assume that the people who place the signs do so with integrity and the intent to keep me safe.

As much as I am an outside-the-norm person when it comes to making independent life choices, I am a conformist when it comes to obeying some signs...ok, a lot of the signs.

Somehow it is also true that I do not obey some of the most important signs...the ones given to me by people about themselves. Instead, I do what I would call puzzle people out. When I see a "Do Not Touch" sign posted in a person's personality I want to poke at it to see why it is painful. A "Do Not Enter" makes me wonder what scariness lies behind the closed door.

One of my favourite quotes from Maya Angelou is: "When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time."  Yet I don't. I can't. I hold out believing that whatever has caused them to react, behave or say the things they have can be healed with love or overcome with understanding.

I don't want people to hurt. I want them to be who they were before whatever it is that changed them changed them. I know that person is still in there, vulnerable but reachable. Catching occasional glimpses gives me the encouragement I need to keep trying.

I have heard it said that you can't change a person. I think that's only partly true... we can't change the experiences people we meet have had but we can offer them a safe place to reveal themselves without judgement and that, in itself can be life changing.

The Ugly Duckling

Paddling on the water, I spotted this array of birds and asked myself: When is the last time you were willing to be mistaken for The Ugly Duckling?

What happened to the me who was comfortable planting herself in an environment full of seemingly different others? How did comfortable come to mean similar?

Why did I need these birds to remind me that it isn't a problem if I am mistaken for an ugly duckling, it is only a problem if I try to be so much like them that I forget I am a swan.

Ripples

I love water, the way it moves, looks, feels, and adapts to whatever contains it...

As many hours as I have spent watching water move, I have spent watching its calm surface reflect everything hovering above it.

I enjoy watching the birds skim its surface, looking for fish or cooling their wings. I like looking through its freshness, curious to discover the sand, rocks and life which lay beneath.

What I like best of all though is the movement formed when elements, such as these two send ripples out farther than my eye can know.

For me, the ripples are reflective of life and how the smallest, least significant-seeming decisions echo forth. Ripples are soft and gentle. They are noticeable yet they neither detain nor disturb us. They may even enhance our enjoyment of the water.

Other ripples, we call waves. Waves are big and loud. They can be seen coming a mile away. The can make us leap with joy or make us panic. They can rock, tip, deafen and sometimes engulf us. Waves change us. They leave us wet, staggering, they can turn us wrong side up, can obscure the light. In the midst of a wave, we lose sight of everyone and everything around us, making it appear as though we are alone. Waves change our perception, our orientation and most often, they carry us back to a place we had already journeyed past, causing us to travel through territory we thought we had already conquered. Some of us seek them, their energy and excitement...

Whether ripples or waves, no creature can move through water without creating a disturbance... not the smallest bug and not the best swimmer.

The same is true of life. No matter what you do or how hard you try, you will not make it to the other side of it unnoticed. You do not have to be a wave-maker. Ripplers will be seen, will be loved, will make a difference to someone just as these two made a difference to me.

A Walk in the Woods

Though the soles of my shoes are soft, my footsteps land heavy in the silence, telling them I am coming to invade their solitude in search of my own.

Overhead, birds call out. I imagine them warning trees that they will be coming to briefly perch.

As if to create the illusion of sisterhood, the few dry leaves from last season which cling to the branches quiver in the same breath of cool wind which causes me to draw my jacket tighter.

High above an airplane flies; a metal container of people who like me choose movement over sitting still. Even as the emotional equilibrium I seek proves elusive, I earnestly pray they reach their physical destination.

Cloaked in the shelter of these mostly naked trees whose fallen leaves still warm the awakening earth, I relish the thought of being invisible to any eyes which might be straining through the small windows in search of familiar landmarks.

Nearby tree branches are studded with buds which stand promisingly perched, tips hopefully exposed to the sun waiting more patiently to discover their potential than ever I have.

These tightly bound leaves I envy. Patient or not, eager or not, in short order, they will likely be supplied with everything they need.

For me, however, time comes daily supplying me with dreams which may never be fulfilled, hopes which sometimes die before they settle in my heart and an assortment of experiences from which I bloom, then die, then bloom again.

From these I must divine who I am and for what purpose I have come.

The wind picks up. I walk on until my cold hands can no longer clutch the jacket closely enough. As I step from the woods, a familiar face allows its mask of concern to give way to a smile.  I cross half the ground between us before I realize I am no longer cold.

EIGHT!

It's hard to believe that today this beautiful little girl of mine is eight. I look at her every day and know my life has a purpose. Know there is a God.  

I was in a marriage which in spite of its beautiful beginnings had started to suck at my soul. One night, as I lay in bed I prayed a prayer I remember still: "God, if there is any other soul meant to enter this universe through me please send it now. I can't hold on much longer."

Shortly after, I found out I was pregnant with this one. Though her birth added strain to an already strenuous situation, it also added joy, much love and laughter.

A few more years of struggle would pass before I left but when I did, I left with four little souls that the universe will use as it needs to. 

Athena is sensitive, kind, loving, creative.  She is joy personified. I love the twinkle in her brown eyes. I love that her body can barely contain the spirit within. She says the unsayable. She thinks the unthinkable. She questions the universe in ways that make me think hard. She feels a deep connection to the universe and to God.  Though her head is always in the clouds, she is rooted in love in a way that gives her the confidence to be who she is. 

She is a living reminder that prayers get answered. A reminder that I need to remain open to God's purpose. A reminder that even as love changes, it can create beautifully wonderful things. 

There is a reason that she was born Thanksgiving weekend. 

Happy Birthday Athena and Thank You!