A long lost favorite

I recently took some time to sort through all the photos I have on my computer... dating back to as early as January, 2008.

To my delight, I discovered a photo of what was once my favorite painting in the entire world...

When I first started attending a church, I idolized my youth pastor, Ryan. He was the coolest person in the entire world. Without a doubt.

And he had the coolest office in the world, as well. It was a loft, up in the far corner of the church... far away from the hustle and bustle. I used to love sitting up there in an old beat-up rocker, chatting with him and throwing darts. It's where he kept his cool computer, his cool guitar, his cool library, and, at times, his cool girlfriend.

He had the above painting hanging in that office, and I always loved it. You can't tell from the awful, slightly-fuzzy photo I took, but it really was quite lovely... bold shades of blue and black, the paint shoveled on so thick that it stood out from the canvas, bumpy, alive.

Several years after my youth pastor left to pursue a career in carpentry, I was hired as an intern to work with the youth at the same church. I was given the option of what office I wanted, and I knew instantly that I wanted to excavate Ryan's old office from under the 2 years of cumulated church junk, rubble, and un-wanteds. It took me almost a week... but I was so pleased with the finished product.

There was only one thing missing: a painting. This church happened to have a large number of artists in attendance, and many of them stored their artwork in the building. I was handed the keys to several walk-in closets full of paintings to choose one for my work space.

I spent an entire glorious afternoon sitting cross-legged in closets and sorting through beautiful things.

And then I found it. That same old painting I had always adored. I happily carted it up and off to my little room, where it remained until the end of my internship.

So there you go, that's the story. And there's the painting.

Hard Boiled

Next to the fabulous avocado, this is my perfect salad food. Not over done, very yellow-orange (the more orange the better) and oh-so-nice to have any time of day. If you ask me, a properly cooked egg is the true test of a cook. I'm still working on my frying technique but this even I can do!

My Perfect Hard Boiled Egg

6 eggs

1 pot

salt

cold water

Gently place eggs into the bottom of your pot and fill with cold water until eggs are covered with about an inch of water. Place on stove and bring to a soft rolling but not wild boil. (Too much jostling will crack your eggs.) Let it boil for 2-3 minutes then cover and remove from heat. Allow them to stand for 30 minutes undisturbed. Tip: Set a timer or you'll forget about them! Rinse with cool water and enjoy alone with a few pinches of salt, as the finishing touch to the perfect salad, or place them in the refrigerator for later eating.

Cemeteries Part II

This is Part II of 'Cemeteries'. Read Part I here.

Ok, I'm going to try and articulate this once again. Every time I've tried so far, I've felt that my explanation has fallen short. Hopefully this time...

My earliest memory of a cemetery is of one in Vancouver, where we gathered to bury a relative. I remember my grandma taking me and showing me the plots she had already bought - the place where she and my grandfather would be buried. It was such an odd feeling to look down at that grassy bit of land and know what would one day lie beneath it. I'd imagine it would be an even stranger experience for her, however my warrior of an Oma has never been one to flinch at death. In fact, she's always discussed it openly and freely. Perhaps this has contributed to my lack of fear surrounding it all.

Since then I haven't been to many graveyards. I've taken the odd walk through one with a parent, and while in Europe I toured some of the more historic graveyards... Charles Dickens, Jane Austen, Isaac Charles Darwin , St. Francis of Assisi, and the like. It has been saddening at times, but never frightening.

Then last year, at a time and for a reason that is forgotten, I made a trip to Ross Bay Cemetery by myself one afternoon. Maybe it was just curiosity. I wandered through the sun-dappled grounds, and finally came to rest in the shade of a tree where I read the Bible (James if I remember correctly) for an hour or so before continuing on with my day. It was a glorious way to spend my time, there is a quiet and peace to be found in cemeteries that I've been unable to achieve elsewhere. A sense of depth and meaning. Hundreds of years of laughter, tears, longing, dreams... and memories.

Since that day, I've returned to Ross Bay maybe four or five times. Why? Besides from the above, let me try to explain:

I don't know about you, or anyone else for that matter, but I'm often so caught up in my day-to-day life that I forget the big picture. What is the purpose of our lives here? Well, the Westminster Shorter Catechism says "the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever". Think about that. It's so simple, so wonderful. It's exactly right. I know this, and I desire to do this more than anything else.

But... somehow, I forget. This morning I woke up and my 'chief end' was to get to the library to finish a project that's worth 50% of a certain final grade. I did the minimum for my morning devotions, scarfed down a banana, and was out the door. Last week my 'chief end' was to just get through the week, trying desperately to keep my head above water with all this homework raining down.

It's so easy to get wrapped up in the daily stresses and worries of each day. In our culture, everything is in fast forward! We rush from place to place, always harried and haggard, never enough time, never enough money, never enough belongings. More, more, more. It seems to me that there's no time to think.

I know that I should be meditating on the nature and character of my wonderful heavenly Father, that I should study the Word, serve in the church, and reach out to the unsaved. But instead I race about, grasping for something that always seems out of reach. When I get this semester done, then I'll be happy. When I graduate, then I'll have time to study the Word more in depth. When I'm a missionary, then I'll serve the Lord with every ounce of my being. When I'm married with children, then I can fully put others ahead of myself. I always feel discontent here and now, and I always feel like what will fulfill me is just ahead in my future.

That thinking is wrong. And when I wander through a cemetery, reading the abandoned and weather-worn gravestones, I remember.

Every achievement in this life is for nothing, apart from the goal of glorifying and enjoying the Father. Your new car, your lovely home, your great job, your full bank account - Everything this world praises is all for nought.

I see this when I read those gravestones. An entire person's life, from beginning to end, all their laughter, joys, sorrows, heartbreaks, worries, and tears, are all summed up in the words:

JOHN MCDOYLE 1902-1989 BELOVED HUSBAND, FATHER, AND SON. That's all.

In the cases of some women, there's even less...

AND JANE MCDOYLE, WIFE OF THE ABOVE.

Your entire life, forgotten. Everything we strive for and are so proud of obtaining throughout our lives is forgotten within a generation. Maybe our kids remember, then our grandchildren remember half... then, nothing.

So why do we bother? What's the point of working our knuckles to the bone for things that don't last? Storing up treasures here on earth, instead of in heaven.

That's what my time in these places helps me grasp. It helps me grasp that I will one day die. So will you. And what do we want to leave behind us? What do we want to be remembered for? What's worth pursuing - what truly has value?

One of the gravestones I walked by the other day made me laugh out loud at the inscription on it's face.

JONATHAN KLEISMAN (don't know if that was actually the name)

19__ - 19__ (forget the dates)

RESPECTED FUNERAL DIRECTOR

Is that really all they could think of writing? Was there no loved ones? No achievements besides that? It got me thinking...

I want to leave children that I've raised in the 'fear and admonition of the Lord', that serve and love the Father long after I'm gone; a faithful wife and loving mother.

I want to be remembered as a servant of Christ, someone willing to follow His leading despite it's cost to my own personal happiness or comfort.

I want to leave a body of believers that I've blessed through my ministry and constant prayers.

I want to be remembered as a one who had a heart for the lost, a woman that reached out to the suffering, and declared the saving Gospel of Jesus Christ boldly in every circumstance.

I DON'T want to be remembered for the nice house I lived in, the stylish way in which I furnished it, the lovely clothes I wore, or whether or not I used a Mac or a PC.

But even these things will be forgotten. In the end, all that matters, all that I desire to the very depth of my being, is to spend eternity singing praises in the presence of my Lord and Savior. In the end, the only praise I desire to ever hear are the words, "Well done, good and faithful servant.... Enter into the joy of your Lord." (Mat 25:21).

Now if I could only live like it!

Where are your priorities?

Vacation at last

I'm home at last from our vacation up island to Mt. Washington. It was a lovely time and exactly what I needed after so many weeks of never-ending and difficult work. I wouldn't say that it was completely relaxing, because every day was jam packed with activities... but I think that the word 'refreshing' fits quite perfectly. I got to play for hours with my beloved new camera lens, explore wintery wonderlands, dig snow tunnels, and read john keats by a warm fire.

My favorite moment? Yesterday night. Earlier in the day my dad and I had sat at the Nordic Centre and dreamt up the idea of a wonderous snack... and so later the boys made a midnight trek outside and returned with a bucket of snow. We each helped ourselves to a bowl of it, and then dosed the stuff with the purest of maple syrups. It was SOOO very Canadian! We sat, ate maple syrup snow, and said things like, "This is great, eh?" and, "What are you talking a-boot?". I've never felt so patriotic. haha.

Ah. So happy.

Experiments with monochrome

A little taste of my latest forays into photography...

The end of October already?

Here's some images of my autumn, a wonderful season: