tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24882753946492803502024-02-19T07:22:16.698-08:00choose to rise above... my feeble attempt at taking the high road ...apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.comBlogger276125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-42594410289793253322020-04-12T11:28:00.002-07:002020-04-12T12:10:36.026-07:00i know i'm a few days late to the party, but i've been pondering the death of Christ in full detail this morning. my heart sunk as i read about him being mocked and spat on and put through so much physical pain, and simultaneously stood in awe as i read about how He refused a mixture of wine and gall even though he knew it would have alleviated some of it. and the feelings of abandonment piece? don't even get me started; i cringed at the thought of the loneliness He must have felt as he took his last breath, and the fact that He endured all of this for you and for me takes <i>my</i> breath away. <br />
<br />
then saturday came and it was dark, full of mourning, confusion, doubt and hopelessness. <br />
<br />
i mean, imagine being one of his disciples or one of the women that day?! "He said he would rise again, but ... ? maybe we are fools!"<br />
<br />
of course, they weren't fools at all; we read on only to see that the very next day - today - the friggin stone rolled away! Christ defeated death, proving that He was who He said He was the whole time: the Son of God, our Saviour. as i read further, i could sense the relief, love and celebration that others must have felt that day. <br />
<br />
but the thing is, i, unlike a lot of people i know, can't seem to move on from saturday quite yet with the world in the state that it is. i can't come to terms with the celebration piece when there are constant sirens and gun shots going off outside my window and robbing my neighbourhood of peace, when some of my friend's lives are in turmoil, or when i sit here feeling deep bouts of loneliness while trying to come to terms with the fact that my social life and all my mental health coping strategies have been washed away with COVID. i was up most of the night last night fighting the will to live (just thoughts, nothing else) and i feel some of the same today...as if it were saturday. <br />
<br />
of course, none of this negates the fact that sunday happened - i believe in the resurrection of Christ and the hope it brings with all of my heart - but for now, i'm gonna camp here for a bit. lamenting is an important part of life, too, after all. apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-72663665109159871342020-04-01T06:06:00.001-07:002020-04-01T21:39:51.050-07:00we are a few weeks into this global pandemic and i am feeling all the feels. some days are wonderful; i find the time to catch up on rest, pick up a good book, bang away on the cajon my brother made me or crush on lebron james (seriously, God should have made him a twin!), and other days, not so much. not being able to see (and hug!) my friends, fighting boredom/trying to feel inspired enough to get some work done and not being able to go to the gym have proven to be my biggest trials, but like anything in life, there are things we can learn and things we can celebrate. below are some of these things. <br />
<br />
<b>i feel more connected than ever before.</b><br />
<br />
i started a document on my computer titled "taken care of in quarantine" (i'm not actually in quarantine, but it sounds cooler than 'while social distancing'.) each day, i write how i saw God or others take care of me and the names of all the people who checked in with my by way of phone, facetime or text, and i find myself being blown away every single day. of course, i check in with people, too, and they're just as grateful. global pandemic or not, let's keep this up. we were never meant to live life alone. <br />
<br />
<b>COVID cultivates: </b><br />
<br />
<b>creativity:</b> my buddy invited me to a games' day on zoom last saturday with his young adults group and it was a blast, a coworker of mine started 'virtual' lunches to make it feel like we're all at the office, and my supervisor, knowing i was feeling rather lonely last week, made plans to drive in from burlington to go for a walk with me (six feet apart, of course.) churches and businesses alike are learning how to reach people online and others are finding creative outlets (check out john krasinki's new show, "some good news" on youtube - it's my fave!) in times like these, creativity abounds. <br />
<br />
and so does <b>compassion:</b> many people have expressed concern for me that i live 'alone' and check in with me accordingly (i do have two roommates, one of whom i don't get along with and the other who is in her room 95% of the time due to recent surgeries), and i am over here thinking about my friends who are forced to balance trying to get work done from home with making sure their children are being taught things their teacher usually takes care of, which is no easy task! (i tried to help my friend with her son's grade five math homework once and i was lost. what happened to jimmy had two fish and susie had six - how many fish did they have?) <br />
<br />
but seriously, my heart goes out to you and those of you whose homes aren't conflict-free or safe. being home a lot more can be a dream for some and a nightmare for others. <br />
<br />
on a 'bigger' scale, social justice advocates have been partnering with the city of toronto and working diligently to make sure that those who are struggling with homelessness are being taken care of. there are improvements to be made here, of course, but it's a start; one i pray only grows from here. <br />
<br />
another positive thing i have seen during this time is society's ability to <b>appreciate those who normally get overlooked.</b> <br />
<br />
doctors and nurses alike are being elevated in a time like this (as they should!), but so are grocery clerks and cashiers. standing behind pexiglass walls, they risk catching this invisible disease more than most do <b>so that we can eat</b>, and i think that's commendable. (truth be told, if i were them i would probably quit, which is one reason that i'm glad not everyone is like me.)<br />
<br />
my mom was a cashier for most of her adult life, and i (and all of alliston) can tell you , on a normal day, she brightened many, many days. the truth is, during a pandemic or not, every job has its value, so let's continue to re-evaluate our view of success and not forget all of this when we all go back to work one day. <br />
<br />
COVID, as you can see, is cultivating many, many good things. <br />
<br />
<b>but it also cultivates anxiety and panic. </b><br />
<br />
i think the scariest thing about all of this (other than the fact that people are dying at a rapid rate) is that you can be a carrier of it and still symptom free. you can touch a gas pump and then your face and risk catching it, step foot on a bus and get coughed on, or pick up a box of cereal at the grocery store and and catch it or spread it without even knowing it. that freaks me out. like i have never washed my hands so much in my life, nor have i ever felt as physically anxious as i have the past few days. my heart is racing just writing this - maybe yours is reading it, too - so i will stop right here for both of us. <br />
<br />
my point is, there are very crappy, scary and painful things <b>that we shouldn't ignore</b> during a time like this and that's our reality, but there are also good things we can focus on, too; hopefully i've been able to help you with the latter today. <br />
<br />
stay safe and connected, everyone. <br />
apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-20845262717330739622020-02-17T10:59:00.001-08:002020-02-17T18:54:22.053-08:00i'm 51 days away from my 40th birthday and i feel like i have nothing to show for it.<br />
<br />
it's family day, after all, and i'm sitting in my empty living room, alone.<br />
<br />
the good news is, i made it through half of the day already. i played my favourite word game, listened to music, cleaned the bathroom and made myself some lunch, and, as as i was reminded of last night as i went for a walk at sunset, every day comes to an end. the seemingly never-ending drawn out ones, too. <br />
<br />
but i'm sad, y'all. with my siblings living three and five hours away, i feel sad, and without a family of my own, even sadder. what's the point in family day when you have to spend it alone?<br />
<br />
now all of you married folk are probably rolling your eyes as you read this. <br />
<br />
"she doesn't know what she has; i wish i could have a day to myself! heck, i would settle for being able to go to the bathroom alone without someone needing me", and that's valid. i hear you. most of my closest friends are married and i've heard similar things before, but hearing that they're tired, overworked, underappreciated etc helps me (try and) understand where they're coming from, feel for them, and be able to lend a hand where needed.<br />
<br />
that's the point in sharing where we're at, isn't it? so we can support one other when needed? <br />
<br />
of course, some burdens are too heavy to carry and can't merely be 'fixed' by a dinner being dropped off at your front door. i get that. but it helps; at least for a moment it helps. <br />
<br />
i was telling a close friend the other day how painful it is for me to think about the idea of not being able to have children of my own. the truth is, as mentioned at the beginning of this blog, i'm getting old with no hope of marriage in site. my body isn't what it used to be (although i am in better shape now than ever) and i fear, like any older woman would, that my body won't be able to handle what i've been created, in part, to do: bear children (something my body painfully reminds me of each month), and that stings. especially today.apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-8039338025476439922020-02-13T14:51:00.002-08:002020-02-15T08:16:32.363-08:00i am more than comfortable doing things alone; i've eaten at restaurants alone (what up table for one?!), go for walks alone, and occasionally, a movie alone (mainly because i don't have to share my popcorn that way), but i hate walking in and out of church alone. i don't know what it is, either. maybe it's because it's the one day of the week where the fact that i don't have a family of my own gets unintentionally rubbed in my face, or maybe, just maybe, it's because being in church reminds me of the importance of community and leaving it by myself feels counter-cultural and wrong. i don't know. all i know is that this particular sunday, the day before the anniversary of my mom's death, was harder than the rest. <br />
<br />
not wanting to go home quite yet, i stopped in at my favourite pizza joint, pizzaiolo, to get some lunch and cash in my gift card. <br />
<br />
at first, i was okay; the cashier was especially friendly to me that day and i scored the window seat. i never score the window seat. <br />
<br />
and so i sat at my preferred table and enjoyed my slice of heaven (no, really, you need to try 'the sonny'!) as i watched the beautiful, thick snowflakes fall on the other side of the window at majestic pace. it was picturesque, actually, and i felt overwhelmed with thankfulness.<br />
<br />
but then i looked across the table from me only to see an empty seat, and all of a sudden, as dumb as this may sound, i was overwhelmed with grief and sadness. <br />
<br />
i wanted to pick up the phone and call someone, but being sunday afternoon, i didn't know who to call. and so i did the next best thing when i need community; i looked to facebook.<br />
<br />
"i eat alone and grieve alone", i wrote. <br />
<br />
was it true? at that moment, yes. and as i ate my pizza - the pizza that i was grateful for - tears started streaming down my face.<br />
<br />
and then a comment came in. truthfully, i don't remember what this person said word for word, but it was along the lines of "paula, you need to learn to be thankful for the small things in life."<br />
<br />
was this person trying to be helpful? maybe. but was it helpful? absolutely not. <br />
<br />
the truth is, as i have most recently learned, <b>you can be thankful and sad at the same time.</b> you can be thankful that you have good people in your life, food in your stomach and beautiful snow to watch fall from the sky <b>and still be sad</b> that you're eating alone or because you have an orphan sized hole in your heart that, at times, appears to be bigger than the organ itself. <br />
<br />
the truth is, contrary to what my well-intentioned friend said, you <i>can</i> carry both.<br />
<br />
as some of you know, yesterday marked what would have been my mom's 74th birthday and a few friends of mine had been kind enough to come over and celebrate 'mama linda/LC" with me. i whipped up a nice dinner and created a cake out of her favourite white donuts and as i went to sit down to say grace, i found myself welling up with tears caused by nothing but thankfulness. i was so touched that my friends wanted to celebrate my beautiful mother with me and felt comforted by their company. <br />
<br />
before we lit the candles on her 'cake', i facetimed my youngest siblings so that we could continue the tradition we started last year by eating a few donuts together in honour of mom's life. i tell ya - i laughed harder than i have in a long time as i watched my siblings - in true castrucci fashion - rub white powder on their face in hopes to make one another laugh, and it worked. boy, did it ever work!<br />
<br />
but then, a few hours later, my friends left and i found myself almost instantly ugly crying myself to sleep, because, well, you can carry both gratitude and sadness in your heart at the same time, and i do. <br />
apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-19589867288057057202020-01-22T11:44:00.003-08:002020-01-22T16:15:48.845-08:00i've never been good at goodbyes. at my best, i just plain hate them. at my worst, i suffer from separation anxiety. <br />
<br />
i felt this way every time i left my mom at the princess margaret lodge while she was in town getting treatment. i would jump on the GO bus every night when i finished work in mississauga and make my way to toronto to meet her for dinner. at times, i would just sit with her as she gratefully ate her hospital food, and other times, we'd walk to the nearest subway a few blocks away for a treat. <br />
<br />
but eventually the clock would hit 8:00, and, as per her orders, i would have to start my journey home. <br />
<br />
"it's getting dark, honey", she'd say. <br />
<br />
and so i would (very reluctantly) get my jacket on and walk the long and dreadful hallway until i reached the front door, treasuring every step i got to take with her along the way. <br />
<br />
"love you, mom" i'd say as i kissed her cheek. <br />
<br />
"love you, too, paula", she'd reply. "get home safe."<br />
<br />
and that was that. another dinner date gone, another day of radiation complete. <br />
<br />
but without fail, i would turn around at the end of the sidewalk only to see her waving at me through the double-paned window. <br />
<br />
and i would wave back with tear stained cheeks. <br />
<br />
because, well, i've never been good at temporary goodbyes, either. apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-767059955215678392020-01-20T16:28:00.002-08:002020-01-20T16:35:17.848-08:00"somewhere along the line, someone has handed you a bat and you've been beating yourself with it ever since", she said to me over the phone. "and i want to help you put down the bat."<br />
<br />
not only was my friend smart enough to use my favourite sport as an analogy, but she was right; somewhere along the way, i've learned to be super hard on myself.<br />
<br />
anyone else with me?<br />
<br />
you react poorly and hide. say something dumb and replay it over and over. experience deep emotion and feel abnormal and ashamed.<br />
<br />
the thing is, i don't know how not to replay stuff i've said, react poorly at times and hide, or how not to feel deeply, but i tell you, <b>i so badly want to know how not to</b>. <br />
<br />
the word i've adopted for 2020 is 'reset'; to set, adjust, or fix in a new or different way:, because frankly, holding this bat hasn't got me anywhere, and neither have some of my thinking patterns, namely, and especially, when it pertains to my self-worth.<br />
<br />
i hide it well, but i battle self-hate on more days than not. <br />
<br />
i wrestle with the world's view of beauty and find myself hideous, unattractive and unworthy of love.<br />
<br />
i hate that i feel so much and loathe my blood boiling temper.<br />
<br />
i dislike my ability to zoom in on what's going wrong instead of what's going right.<br />
<br />
i disapprove of the way i react to certain things and the fact that i'm prone to withhold love when i feel rejected, and the list goes on. <br />
<br />
and so this year, i've decided to put down the bat and pick up a shovel; to dig through what needs to be dug through and heal. to discern when i need to process and sit in my pain and when to chuck the shovel across the yard and find a new yard. this year, i'm being intentional about using my stubborn, innate ability to be hard on myself for good and for growth and learn to love myself the way i ought to. <br />
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who's with me? apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-43322952600448246222019-12-03T11:27:00.000-08:002019-12-04T05:19:47.022-08:00let me tell you about a time when i needed strength.<br />
<br />
my mom and i had just spent the night in emerge. her stomach had filled up with fluid again and the only known pain relief came in the form of an all night draining process. she reached for my hand when they put the I.V in and i didn't let go until they pulled it out five hours later. <br />
<br />
she was drained (literally and figuratively) - we both were - and be it 5:00a.m. when we left, we were more than ready for bed. only my mom didn't have the strength to climb the one - normally very small step - on the front porch, and i didn't have the strength to help her up. <br />
<br />
that's what facebook reminded me of today; the time when i didn't have enough strength to help my mom up.<br />
<br />
what seemed like an hour later, my mom made it up the front step and found herself falling asleep on the white plastic chair at my sister's front door. you know the kind i'm talking about - the kind you pull up to the campfire when all of your good, comfy chairs are taken. i wanted more than anything for her to be able to fall asleep in her bed, but unfortunately, there were stairs in the way of that, too.<br />
<br />
so i sat on the bottom step, put my head against the wall, cried out to God and told him how tired i was and how i wasn't strong enough to 'do this' anymore, and stayed watch until my mom woke up a few hours later. she made it to the couch later that morning, and i laid down on the one beside her. <br />
<br />
facebook also reminded me that my Champ of a Mom conquered the 14 stairs required to make it to her bed that night. i tucked her in, kissed her forehead and said goodnight, to which she replied, "goodnight, paula. i hope tomorrow's better."<br />
<br />
"i do, too, mom. i do, too", i said as i flicked off her light.<br />
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and it <i>was</i> better. tomorrow almost always is. almost. but when it's not, let God be strong for you like He was for me that day (and every day since without her.) <br />
<br />
"God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble" (psalm 46:1)apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-5703113881103066642019-10-27T10:06:00.002-07:002019-10-27T10:06:24.410-07:00shame: a painful feeling of humiliation or distress caused by the consciousness of wrong or foolish behavior.<br />
<br />
ever feel like that? ever feel humiliated or in distress because of a choice (or a series of choices) you made? <br />
<br />
any time i feel this way - and i have this week - i go back to the garden. <br />
<br />
it's there i picture adam and even frolicking in the most beautiful garden. i picture the colourful trees and flowers, the animals, the peace. i picture how pure their relationship with God must have been and how incredibly fulfilling their relationship with each other must have been. they had everything they needed. everything. <br />
<br />
but then entered the serpent. <br />
<br />
"did God <i>really</i> say, ‘you must not eat fruit from any tree in the garden’?”<br />
<br />
she was certain he did, but once that stupid snake informed her that she would be able to gain knowledge she never had before, she caved in, took a bite of the fruit that looked so aesthetically pleasing, and gave her beloved husband a bite, too. <br />
<br />
though conniving, the serpent was right; in doing so, they <i>had </i>gained superior knowledge, <b>but they had also disobeyed</b>. once they realized they were naked and <i>full of shame</i>, they ... hid. <br />
<br />
that's what shame does, doesn't it? it makes you want to hide. it causes you to avoid eye contact and people, and at times, if we're not careful, can be known to be the breeding ground for even more dumb choices.<br />
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of course, we know that this isn't the end of the story. if we read further (and i encourage you to), you'll see that there's grace and reconciliation and freedom all wrapped up in one person (the greatest story ever told!): Jesus. <br />
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but sometimes, just sometimes, we don't get there right away; sometimes, just sometimes, we choose to cover ourselves in fig leaves, hide behind a big ole oak tree and wallow in our sinfulness for a bit.apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-6825915756372073812019-10-04T14:06:00.002-07:002019-10-05T05:20:51.795-07:00he pulled his shoe off and propped his injured foot up on the chair in between us. <br />
<br />
"are you any good at bandaging wounds?", he said as i reluctantly looked at the puss soaked bandage in front of me. <br />
<br />
"i'm not a doctor, *john*, but i'll see what i can do."<br />
<br />
i tried to take the bandage off with care but i soon found out that he preferred the 'rip off the band-aid' approach.<br />
<br />
it didn't look good. to my dismay, he had a nickel-sized hole in his big toe. i covered that baby in polysporin, bandaids and bandages and recommended that he get some <i>real help</i> as soon as he could. he promised he would do so the very next day as he hobbled his way to the homeless shelter where he planned to spend the night.<br />
<br />
what i didn't tell you is, how, as i was, again, very reluctantly playing doctor, he was telling me of his frustration with his current 'housing situation' and how it wasn't fair that he couldn't find a place of his own. <br />
<br />
that's the thing, and the very point of this post; under every bandaged foot lies a deeper need & underneath every social justice issue lies a busted, broken, unfair system.<br />
<br />
so what do i (we) do with that? i'm not entirely sure, but i will keep bandaging feet until i figure it out. apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-19775137248110517432019-09-13T10:49:00.001-07:002019-09-15T08:13:33.427-07:00it's not like people who wrestle with suicidal ideations <i>want</i> to die. though i have never went as far as penning a goodbye letter or planning how i'd follow through with it, i've definitely wrestled with thinking about how freeing it would be to not have to fight this battle anymore. <br />
<br />
now don't go calling 911 on me. my older (and very ex) sister did that to me once (without being a part of my life outside of social media) and it pissed me off a great deal. in fact, it was the most humiliating night of my life. maybe, just maybe <i>had i have been</i> suicidal, i would have come to appreciate her 'concern' one day, but i wasn't. in fact, the night the cops busted down my door, i was sitting at home eating kale and tilapia, a meal that no one in their right mind would choose as their last one, and one that someone would only choose to suffer through if they were trying to prolong their life, not end it. <br />
<br />
so don't call 911. i am not suicidal; i'm merely trying to glean from my experience and shed light on the 'issue' during a week where people are talking about it more than ever. so, without further ado ... <br />
<br />
<b>taking your own life isn't cowardly or selfish.</b> <br />
<br />
in a weird way, you are actually thinking of others when you think these thoughts. you feel like a burden to your loved ones and are tricked into believing that they would be better off without you. of course, <b>this isn't true</b> and being left to grieve a loved one is traumatic (and i can imagine even more so when you're left to grieve someone who 'chose' to die. tack a few layers of regret and guilt on there while you're at it and you have yourself quite the lifelong battle yourself. <br />
<br />
<b>wanting to take your life isn't a normal response to pain and/or circumstance. </b><br />
<br />
if you're feeling this way, you are loved and brave! i beg you to reach out and tell someone safe. you may need to see a doctor and/or a counsellor (<b>and there is no shame in that!</b>)<br />
<br />
<b>and lastly, there is always hope. </b><br />
<br />
knowing what this battle can look like firsthand, i feel <b>extremely sad</b> when i hear that someone took their own life, because, even <b>though the battle is extremely difficult</b> <b>and finding the right help can be scary, costly and exhausting</b>, <b>i cling to hope</b> and believe that if we can just hang on a little bit longer, as hard as it may seem, the darkness will go back to its rightful place. my God, the light will always break through. <br />
<br />
of course, this is what it's been like for me each time and this time is no exception. as you would know from reading my previous blogs, i've spent the past few weeks 'wasting' a lot of time sleeping. i mustered up enough energy to scrape myself out of bed when i could, pushed through my 'worst case scenerios' and showed up where i needed to, begged God to take away this thorn in my flesh, cried A LOT, took care of myself by booking a counselling appointment and the like, <b>and i am finally</b> starting to feel better. the cloud has lifted and i am able to breathe again! <br />
<br />
so ... to you who are battling your own dark battle at the moment, i see you, have hope for you and believe the light will shine through, and to you, the one (of many) who is grappling with a loved ones death due to suicide, i'm so sorry; i feel for you and see you, too. <br />
<br />
"when hard pressed, i cried to the Lord; he brought me into a spacious place" [psalm 118:5]apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-76529968268164568142019-09-12T14:30:00.000-07:002019-09-12T14:46:44.897-07:00there have been times where a circumstance has lead me into depression; take the loss of an important job or friendship, or the death of my mom and dad for example. in some ways, these bouts are easier to deal with because you can pinpoint the source and figure out the 'why'. in cases like these, you 'simply' do what you need to do to get through and hope to God that you're able to muster up enough energy to crawl your way out of the suffocating darkness. <br />
<br />
but then there are times where you have NO IDEA WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON. you notice a change in your mood and very slowly (and sometimes very rapidly) spiral out of control until you find yourself sleeping the days away. sometimes, that's the only thing you can do to shut your mind off and stop the torment. <br />
<br />
the hardest part is, <b>it just doesn't makes sense</b>, so imagine how hard it is to be able to articulate what you're feeling and thinking to others. you can't. (and even if you could, they may think you're crazy, or ungrateful, or not taking care of yourself. or, or, or.)<br />
<br />
but the truth is, you, more than anyone else you know, want this exhausting battle to end. you, more than anyone else, want peace of mind and will do anything to get it, so advice isn't necessarily the best way to help someone in a time like this. <br />
<br />
<b>but presence is</b>. just having someone sit with you (sometimes in silence, sometimes not) speaks volumes and makes you feel less alone. like i said to my friend the other day, even though <b>you want nothing more than to be alone</b> (shame playing a big factor in this), <b>you need to be around people</b>. presence is healing. <br />
<br />
knowing this, i got out of bed today and surrounded myself with people at our staff's spiritual retreat. i spent some time alone by a pond, watched beautiful, bright fish swim about aimlessly (i feel like this at times), did some much needed reflection, had a few great conversations and learned a lot about horses. even related to them believe it or not. <br />
<br />
right before we went into the horse pit (not sure what else to call it), my new friends john and gabby informed us of how vulnerable and cautious horses are. being prey, they tend to run away when they feel unsafe, but once trust is earned, they're full of love and affection and being around them is oddly healing. <br />
<br />
i couldn't help but draw a parallel between their behaviour and my own as i listened to these new and intriguing horse facts. truth be told, i, too, tend to run away when i feel even a tad bit unsafe and/or sense any hint of rejection. i'm quick to build walls around my heart and put my guard up. leave before someone else does. run away in the name of adventure - you name it - but like i was reminded of today through a big and strong but hesitant animal, although being cautious isn't necessarily a bad thing and guarding your heart (the wellspring of life!) to some degree is important and wise, the cost of being too cautious and/or running away when you're full of fear may be too great. because, well, at the end of the day, your heart may have been hurt in the past, but maybe, just maybe, the people in your life now will play a part in its healing. apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-18358053355917363982019-09-11T12:09:00.003-07:002019-09-15T08:08:38.338-07:00for me, depression runs as deep as the veins i used to access to bleed. <br />
<br />
you see, i used to cut myself. it started while i was a teenager and ended while i was a teenager. <br />
<br />
i have had intense emotions as long as i can remember (too intense if you ask me.) i would be fine one minute and enveloped by a dark cloud the next, and no matter how hard i tried, i couldn't escape them. and oh, did i ever want to escape them.<br />
<br />
and so i cut myself. not anywhere noticeable; i was petrified of someone finding out. i didn't want to die, either, so i was very careful as to how deep i cut. but i did it, and the pain i felt with each slit was enough to take the focus off of the indescribable emotional pain i was in. at least, temporarily. <br />
<br />
to my horror, my mom clued in one day. mother's intuition i guess. she stood outside my very locked bathroom door and begged me not to hurt myself. i told her that i would stop if she went downstairs so i didn't have to look her in the eye on my way back to my room, which she did, <b>and i haven't done it since</b>. the pain i caused her that day (i can still hear it in her voice) was enough for me to stop hurting myself, too.<br />
<br />
and so i banged away on the drum kit my uncle gave me instead (which caused my mom a whole different kind of pain.) any time i was feeling intense emotion, i would go downstairs to my dungeon of a basement and let it all out on the toms. this very drum-kit carried me through some really rough patches. <br />
<br />
a few short years later, i went to follow the Lord's call on my life and moved away drum-kit less. to my dismay, these damn emotions followed me, forcing me to explore and exhaust other ways in which i could cope. i tried meds, counselling and exercise. i've cried and journalled and reached out to friends, read the Bible for comfort and prayed for peace. sometimes, some of this stuff worked, and sometimes it didn't. mental illness can't be put in a box, after all. in fact, not much can. <br />
<br />
and so here i am again. <br />
<br />
everything was 'fine' a few weeks a go; i was getting out of bed every day and functioning well. battled then (and have been battling) what i think to be a mid-life crisis, but i didn't feel like i was suffocating like i do today. when you're depressed, it's hard to breathe, and oh what i would do to be able to breathe. <br />
<br />
of course, there are moments where i'm able to find some reprieve. moments where i get invited to a lake for the weekend and get to spend it amidst beautiful creation and safe people or get a chance to share a meal with some new friends.<br />
<br />
or times like yesterday where although it took everything in me to make it to work, i was greeted by a good friend who took me away from my desk long enough to listen, hug me and pray with me as i released some of my pain through tears. (i don't know if she will ever know how much that helped me get through another day.) <br />
<br />
today hasn't been as successful as yesterday, however. it started it off by me cancelling a few meetings i didn't have the mental capacity for, but since then i have managed to force myself out of bed (albeit at 1:00pm), have a shower and go for a walk to the store to get milk, so i guess i'm not doing too badly after all. with depression, sometimes the smallest victories can seem like a big fat win!apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-86294858711612447162019-08-26T12:45:00.003-07:002019-08-26T12:46:33.037-07:00i can't tell you how good it felt to pass that <strike>bloody</strike> muddy finish line.<br />
<br />
the night before, i found myself sizing up the 18 intimidating obstacles that would await me the next day. what if i looked like an idiot, couldn't do it, broke a bone (or two!) - or worse - got frustrated and gave up and made a fool of myself in front of my team?<br />
<br />
all legit fears, i'll have you know. but when i got there and met up with my team two minutes before our start time, i felt at ease. facing your fears in the midst of good company will do that to you.<br />
<br />
the first few obstacles were easy; we had to make our way through a huge mud pit, crawl our way through the "camo crawl" and jump a small (but not too small) wall (which you can imagine i did ever so graciously), gaining momentum and confidence as each one passed. <br />
<br />
but then i hit my first 'real' obstacle: the one they call king kong, and for great reason.<br />
<br />
i made it to the top of the first ladder but froze in fear when i saw what stood in between me and the way down: a checkerboard shaped net made of unstable, wobbly ropes. in order to get make it to safety, i was required to cross it in a crablike manner. oh helllllllll no. i took my crablike attitude back down the ladder with me and tapped out.<br />
<br />
this is when my <b>mental strength</b> came into play. i told myself that it was okay to opt out of something that terrified me to that degree (stay tuned for a story about when i chose the opposite) and that me being incapable of 'conquering the kong' didn't have to stop or discourage me from completing the course set up for me ahead. <br />
<br />
a few obstacles later, those darn wobbly ropes stared me in the face again. i thought about bypassing it, i really did, but then two of my teammates assured me that i could do it and offered to wait for me at the top to coach me on how to make it through. and i did; they were exactly what i needed in order to conquer this specific obstacle (and my fear of it), and for that i am forever grateful. <br />
<br />
of course, i helped people get over their hurdles, too. in fact, i very quickly adopted the nickname, "paula, push my ass" (which i soon learned meant to hold it in place, too - sorry, peeps.) when anyone needed an extra push to make it over a wall, i was there. we all were there. and it made a world of difference.<br />
<br />
we cheered one another on, held each other's hands as we went down the massive and scary water slide that inevitably slammed us into a pool of thick, dark mud, respected one another's limits and gave each other grace when we couldn't complete something, stood in awe as we watched our teammates challenge themselves to tackle the highest of walls in spiderman fashion (i'm talking to you, karen bott), gave each other key high-fives and hugs, laughed a lot and celebrated our accomplishment as we crossed the finish line together 6km later...with help from our photo bomber, josh lott. (love you , bud!) <br />
<br />
i'll have you know that my nearing 40 year old muscles took a beating that day (and the past two), but i had an absolute blast and am already planning to tackle next year's race. of course, i'll be taking the lessons i learned this year with me: <br />
<br />
one, no matter how many people have told you that you can accomplish 'anything you put your mind to', we all have our limits <b>and that's okay</b>. <br />
<br />
two, by the same token, <b>'quitting' isn't always a bad thing</b>; mental strength is crucial to overcoming any obstacle and reminding yourself that it's okay (and human!) to 'fail" is crucial, too. <br />
<br />
and lastly, like i said after hiking the grand canyon not too long a go, we can accomplish a heck of a lot more (and go a lot further in life) when we do so together. no journey is meant to be traveled alone.<br />
<br />
SO ... who's in next year? :)apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-29332515818605707682019-08-13T15:34:00.002-07:002019-08-13T20:41:35.522-07:00she stumbled through the subway car asking people for change with a confidence i haven't seen in many having to do the same. <br />
<br />
i pulled out the tims card i had in my bag for this very purpose and called her over. she smiled, let out a big "YAY!" and sat down beside me as if she were content with this very small gift. she looked at me, grinned from ear to ear and started speaking to me in french. then english. then spanish.<br />
<br />
"you're very bright," i told her. "it's really hard to be able to speak in many languages."<br />
<br />
"i'm a writer", she said. "i write about street culture."<br />
<br />
she told me her name and told me that i could find her writing on the internet. i promised i'd look her up and read her stuff once i had service again (which i did); she thanked me for the tims' card once again, and before we went our separate ways, she turned around and told me that she would never forget my face. <br />
<br />
"i won't forget yours either, shannon", i said before she disappeared. i wondered if any one else would have the chance to see just how brilliant and grateful this lady was despite her appearance. looks can be deceiving, after all.<br />
<br />
ten minutes later, i found myself taking part in church of the holy trinity's monthly service to honour all of those who have lost their lives to homelessness and/or drug addiction the past four weeks. it took me all of ten seconds to notice that i was standing on a sidewalk full of names (and well wishes) that were very carefully and thoughtfully written in chalk - their very own 'guest book', if you will. unsurprisingly to me, there were a lot of 'john and jane does'; it seemed fitting that our new friend don approached the mic to recite a poem he had written to remember all of the 'unnamed' people who had passed away on our very own streets.<br />
<br />
"i miss you, jane", he said before passing the mic onto someone else. his passionate cry didn't fall on deaf ears. not mine. not my interns. not the countless other people who showed up to remember, either. his cry, in fact, tugged at our hearts. <br />
<br />
the next guy spoke of justice and let us all know that he has invited, and will continue to invite, john tory, rob ford and justin trudeau to these monthly gatherings in hopes that they can see the impact our broken system has on this population, meet the people affected by it and give us some answers.<br />
<br />
"we want answers", they said. <br />
<br />
and you know something? so do i. <br />
<br />
i want to know why there are 5,000 people living in our shelter system and/or on the streets or why housing is so unaffordable. i would like to know why food banks are running low on food and why brilliant friends like shannon are pacing the subway begging for spare change. <br />
<br />
my students and i continued this conversation for a bit this afternoon. it's one thing to hand out socks and sandwiches and serve at different organizations that do the same (all of which are important), but it's another thing to stand in the gap, be a voice for the voiceless, and fight our broken system head on. truth be told, we're not exactly sure how to do this quite yet, but one thing's for sure: we stand with every jane and john doe, every shannon, and every last one who showed up to mourn, remember, and cry out for justice today. apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-28041108377276892222019-07-30T18:19:00.001-07:002019-08-01T07:20:29.742-07:00dear mom and dad,<br />
<br />
remember that time you won a trip to vegas at the legion? i couldn't stop thinking about that as i spent a day there last week. i remember how excited you were; you deserved that trip so much. <br />
<br />
i hiked the grand canyon last week also. thought of you then, too. i can just picture your very different expressions; mom, you would have been so excited for me and happy to live vicariously through me, and dad, you would have lost sleep until you got word that i hadn't fallen in or been trampled by a mule. you always were a worry wart.<br />
<br />
i got my credentials a month a go. missed you something fierce that night. the table was full of people cheering me on; amanda, al and jensen came - so did sharon and cindy - yet i longed for there to be two more chairs. you would have been so proud; i would have hugged you so tightly and thanked you over and over until the lights turned out and we were the last ones to leave. all eyes on you two, the givers of this ever-growing and ever-soaring life. <br />
<br />
i'm healthier now. my depression episodes are few and far between and far less intense, i moved to toronto, my friends are incredible, i always have a place mat set for me every holiday and i finally found my place in this world work wise. you would love the organization i work for; they care about me more than any other place has and show me this in so many different ways. i wish you could meet the people i work with and wish more than anything that they could meet you. they'd love you instantly; everyone did. <br />
<br />
they say that the grief process gets easier with time, but i don't know that it does. while i don't feel crippled by it like i did during the first few months following your death, the time between hearing your voice gets further and further away, and THAT is what i find the hardest. <br />
<br />
i sent you a text once telling you how much i missed you, mom. alliston felt so far away that night. your response? "i'm always with you, paula. just close your eyes"<br />
<br />
well, i am closing my eyes a little tighter tonight. miss you both so very much. xoxoapaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-71987790298447792122019-07-28T09:30:00.001-07:002019-07-29T00:41:59.145-07:00he waved me down during our community dinner, motioning that he needed to talk.<br />
<br />
the second i sat down beside him, he burst into tears, 'confessed' that he was drunk, told me he doesn't usually cry, and apologized for both. an apology wasn't necessary for either, i told him.<br />
<br />
turns out that his wife is in the hospital, he's afraid of losing her and that he has had 'the week from hell." he talked, i listened, and then he asked me to pray for him - for them - right there at the table. jesus, be near. <br />
<br />
a few minutes later, i noticed a friend who looked quite sad. when i sat down beside her, she told me how stressed she was that her son was in the hospital back in her home country, how she is pleading with God to make him better, and asked me to pray for them, too. jesus, be near. <br />
<br />
this seemed to be the pattern for the night as a few more people approached me for similar reasons later, too. so much pain. so many unanswered questions. <br />
<br />
i'm not exempt from either, of course. in fact, if you recall through a recent facebook post, last time i was in regent park, i was the one who needed some love.<br />
<br />
one man in my church noticed that i wasn't okay that night. he gave me a big bear hug (no, seriously, the man is over six feet tall and over 200lbs) and carried on. a few minutes later, though, he came up to me again, looked me in the eye and said, "you're really not okay", and from there, he hugged me again and prayed for me right there in the hallway. i, like the friend i mentioned in the beginning of this blog, cried in his arms (more like his armpit) as he did, and walked away from that interaction feeling relieved, at peace and cared for. jesus, be near. (that's really all there is to pray sometimes, you know?)<br />
<br />
a lot of my friends in regent park are stuck in cycles of addiction and poverty, worrying about loved ones who are sick or battling sickness themselves. some of them are dealing with work stress and financial ruin, mental illness and grief - you name it - <b>and so are some of you.<br />
<br />
m</b>y friends in parkdale would say that life is 'brutiful' - an often frustrating and conflicting combination of brutal and beautiful - and i think they've nailed it; there are so, so, so many things to be thankful for, but hidden behind those things (and at times even covering up some of those things) is a lot of hardship and pain. balancing both can be tricky sometimes, but at the end of the day, as i was reminded about the last two weeks at church, being part of a community can take away the sting a bit. <br />
<br />
jesus, be near. to my friends in regent park. to you and to me. <br />
<br />
amen. apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-79974722733308873152019-07-24T10:22:00.003-07:002019-07-24T10:22:50.137-07:00it was unlike anything i had ever seen before.<br />
<br />
below my feet stood a ridiculously deep hole surrounded by an array of colourful rocks and edges. if i looked close enough, i could see several trails with a copious amount of mule poop covering them, and many courageous hikers carefully making their way around it and through the trail my friend and i had chosen to conquer that morning, too. <br />
<br />
the hike down was fairly easy outside of a few really slippery slopes, but the way back up was an ... uphill battle.<br />
<br />
i learned a lot about myself and life during my hike, though.<br />
<br />
<b>i learned that past experiences really do help you build resilience</b>. it wasn't uncommon for me to remind myself along the way that i had conquered two major, strenuous mountains in the past. recounting these specific times reminded me that, although i found this hike extremely difficult at times, i was capable of completing it. <br />
<br />
my friend, who is way more fit than i am and could have reached the top in half of the time that we did, was great with me. she was patient, let me take breaks when i needed, made sure i was fueled with snacks, coached me on how much water i was drinking when i got a stomach cramp, reminded me of a more effective way to breathe when i was breathing like puff the magic dragon, and pushed me on the last leg of the trip when the end was in sight. although there wasn't a moment where i didn't think i could do it, having her beside me <b>reminded me of how much further (and faster) we can go in life when we do it together</b> and that <b>no journey is meant to be traveled alone.</b> <br />
<br />
<b>sometimes, keeping your eyes on the prize helps, but other times, focusing on the step ahead of you does.</b> at the beginning of the way back up, looking at where we had come from seemed daunting and so far away and would have discouraged me to think about how far we had left to go, so i pulled my hat lower to block my view (and the hot, hot sun) and paid attention to each 'next' step. when i saw the "when mules pass" sign at the bottom of the last hill, however, i redirected my attention to the finish line. there's a time for both, after all.<br />
<br />
i gained strength from the messages my friends sent me beforehand, a timely "you got this" from my travelling companion, positive self talk, and the gospel music i blared through my headset when i found myself needing a little more than all of the above.<br />
<br />
i reminded myself of where i came from and the importance of enjoying the journey by choosing to look behind and around every time i stopped to catch my breath, and made sure that i took time to celebrate this huge accomplishment once i got to the top. i think there are lessons to be learned in that, too ;)<br />
<br />
all in all, i'm very happy i did it; i felt proud of myself, the rim hike we did afterwards felt like a breeze in comparison and the sun set we watched at the end of it brought our beautiful day to a close in the most perfect way. apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-35606891170303988872019-07-14T08:53:00.002-07:002019-07-14T09:46:24.747-07:00as a christian, our whole belief system can be summed up by recounting a few very significant events (give or take): the crucifixion of Christ, His resurrection, and His promise to return for us one day, and it's through the reading of scripture and the ways in which the living word transforms our lives that we can hold fast to this truth of these promises.<br />
<br />
but sometimes, i think, we forget that there were three days <b>in between</b> the cross and the resurrection; three very, very dark days, in fact.<br />
<br />
days filled with sadness and sorrow, doubt and confusion. feelings of abandonment.<br />
<br />
but here's the thing - though the disciples (and every one else who believed in Jesus) possessed hope in who he said He was all along, i imagine that they still wrestled through, and had to sit in, all of the other emotions i mentioned above. <br />
<br />
so why can't we?<br />
<br />
we're quick to tell ourselves to move on; we drink one too many beers or watch hours upon hours of netflix to numb our pain or cover it up by saying things we think we should or things we want people want to hear. we tell our friends to pray harder, to read the bible more, or to move on or snap out of it because of the hope we possess in Christ. <br />
<br />
there's a time for this i know; i, for one, am thankful for my friends who shed some much needed perspective on stuff i go through and in doing so, point me back to the truth, but what if, instead, we allowed ourselves (and our friends) to process and feel sometimes? to wail and cry? scream? hide under the covers and sit in our pain for a *little* while? <br />
<br />
because, truth be told, there's no escaping difficulty and heartbreak here on this earth and we're doing ourselves an injustice if we try and avoid it or bury it, and like some of the disciples in Jesus' day, just because you allow yourself to feel an array of emotion during the 'in between' doesn't mean you do so without faith or hope.<br />
<br />
"there is a time for everything,<br />
and a season for every activity under the heavens<br />
...a time to weep and a time to laugh,<br />
a time to mourn and a time to dance."<br />
<br />
[ecclesiastes 3:1,4]apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-7485583338291347022019-07-10T18:05:00.000-07:002019-07-10T18:52:28.064-07:00i've been on this journey of healing. <br />
<br />
a friend of mine came up to me during church recently and told me that he could sense that my greatest desire in life was to have a child of my own. my jaw dropped. i mean, how did he know? i thought i was doing a good job of playing it off like i don't want children (because i'm old and have lost hope more and more with each passing year), but he was right; he <i>is</i> right. i want to have a child of my own. (that's the first time i have been able to say that aloud in years.)<br />
<br />
sure, there are different ways of being a mom and i am reminded of this every mother's day (adoption, spiritual motherhood etc), but what i really want is to be able to experience a child growing inside of my womb and feel it move around; what i really desire is to be able to nurture him or her and help them grow, give my baby a strong name (i have a list tucked away just in case) and pick out cute clothes that i don't end up wrapping and bringing with me to someone else's shower.<br />
<br />
the thing with desiring something, though, is that we have no way of knowing whether or not it will come to pass, and there's risk in that; there's risk involved in longing for something so deeply and speaking it aloud, and this is no different; admitting that i want to bare a child at the age of 39 (with no prospects of marriage at this point) is scary. hope is scary.apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-35989620576477372342019-06-23T09:22:00.001-07:002019-06-23T18:57:15.040-07:00one of the men from my building started talking to me as i crossed the street last night. he remembered me from a few days a go, he said, and i remembered him, too. he told me a bit about himself before handing me some fresh mint that he just bought from the store. i couldn't help but smile. i feel at home here. <br />
<br />
my beautiful apartment, which is much closer to work (and everything else), is surrounded by beautiful trees and the sounds of birds chirping. kids play outside long after the street lights come on as their parents sit curbside and chat, making my new neighbourhood seem quite life-giving and full. <br />
<br />
my roommates are wonderful; one has offered to pick me up and drop me off on several occasions and the other makes (and shares) delicious food. to my surprise, i woke up to a full out breakfast yesterday; it was nice to be able to sit down at our new kitchen table and share a meal together. <br />
<br />
but more than what they do (we are far more than 'what we do'), they are kind, thoughtful and considerate.<br />
<br />
work is slower than i would like it to be and somewhat transitional, but my heart beats for youth and i'm thankful that i get to work for the greatest organization on the planet. we're heading to quebec city this week for our national conference and on saturday night, i walk that stage and officially graduate with my credentials. (if only my parents could see me now!) <br />
<br />
but here's the thing; though everything is going right and i am doing everything right (taking care of my spiritual life, eating well, exercising, getting fresh air etc), i feel really, really sad.<br />
<br />
my go-to isn't to blame God for things; He doesn't owe me anything and i believe He is wholeheartedly sovereign, but i felt my anger geared towards him last week as we approached father's day. stuff surfaced from the past, i missed my dad greatly and felt angry that everyone else in my life has a dad (and/or a mom), not to mention a husband, father-in-law and kids to help lighten the burden a little. (i know that no one can take your grief away, but providing a distraction for the day helps), and some even have all of the above (which i want them to), but i <strike>was</strike> am angry that lack all. it just doesn't seem ... fair. <br />
<br />
maybe this particular sadness has carried me through the week, i don't know. all i know is that while i've been able to function this week and get where i need to be each day (which shows a lot of growth),<br />
<br />
i <br />
can't <br />
shake <br />
this<br />
sadness.apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-9529489618647143632019-05-11T13:08:00.000-07:002019-05-14T06:05:42.210-07:00i suspect that all of you reading this either have a mom or know someone who does, or have children or know someone who does. by the same token, i think it's fair to say that most of you also know someone who is grieving the loss of their mom or child, a poor relationship with either, or, quite frankly, the inability to have kids in the first place.<br />
<br />
the question is, how do we reconcile this on a day like mother's day? do we tip toe around the fact that people are hurting? not hand out roses to the moms in church in fear we are adding salt to someone else's wound? make sure everyone (and their mother) knows how 'blessed' we are to have a proverbs 31 mom? (that's a whole other blog.) plaster social media by telling everyone we know about how great our mom is?<br />
<br />
i think the answer is quite simple (though admittedly hard to navigate); i think we need to do what romans 12:15 tells us to do (especially on a day that both are prevalent): "rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn"<br />
<br />
for me, it looks like this:<br />
<br />
tomorrow i will grieve the loss of my beautiful mom while simultaneously rejoicing with my sister as she celebrates her first mother's day as one. i'll wrestle with being barren at age 39 as i (very gratefully) hang out with kids who are very dear to my heart and like family to me, AND i'll go to church (a place i usually avoid every mother's day) to support and celebrate a friend as she preaches. <br />
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the truth is, it's easy to celebrate beautiful moms and be happy for those of our friends who have kids; <b>rejoicing is the easy part</b> (unless you're jealous.) mourning with those who mourn, on the other hand, is much harder. it takes time to write, call or show up, and feels yucky, heavy or awkward, and at times, costly. but at the end of the day, there are times when we must learn to balance both. <br />
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truth be told, there will be some very selfless women in your life who need to be reminded of how strong, courageous, and appreciated they are tomorrow, but there will be others in your life who need to know that you remember them, too. <br />
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happy mother's day, moms! you are the heartbeat of your family. (dads are great, too, but they have their own day.)<br />
apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-6112343268375951062019-05-03T12:38:00.001-07:002019-05-03T12:39:23.976-07:00i'm moving in 29 days. <br />
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the thought of this was daunting at first. do i live alone and risk financial strain (toronto is expensive yo) or live with strangers and risk <i>the possibility of</i> messy relationships and conflict, or unmet expectations on either end? (i mean, i can work on my expectations, but what if they <i>expect too much from me</i>?) the more i worked through the 'what ifs?' and wrestled with the fear of making the wrong decision, the more i felt stuck. <br />
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but then the Lord directed me to a certain community and neighbourhood. <br />
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so i pursued this option, and everything fell into place. (doesn't it always?)<br />
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the result?<br />
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two (so far) great roommates, cheaper rent than i pay now, a 20 minute trek to a major subway station downtown, a half an hour walk to my office (which now takes me 2.5-3.0 hours by transit) - and get this - a seven minute walk to a church i plan on plugging into on sundays. (for the record, i am still very much so committed to the church in regent park on saturdays and plan on sticking around.) <br />
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one of my biggest prayers in moving was that i would find a church within walking distance (of wherever i ended up) so i could pour into, and be a part of, the church and community i find myself in. looks like my prayer was answered - no more commuting in and out once a week for this one! <br />
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on top of all of this, i believe the Lord gave me a verse and prayer for this upcoming season through my soon to be new apartment number, <b>308</b>:<br />
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"give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread" - proverbs <b>30</b>:<b>8</b><br />
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i don't make much money (very grateful - not complaining) and it's been pretty tight this month, so this passage is especially fitting. call me crazy, and maybe this is because crazy provision has always been a part of my story, but i don't seek after riches or even financial stability. i work hard, do what i can, try and live a generous life, and trust God to take care of the rest, nor do i long for financial poverty (thanks, captain obvious); this prayer serves as a reminder of the importance of living in the 'just enough'; something i find myself constantly wrestling with in our culture because of the field i am in and the populations i work with. (there is nothing wrong with making and having money, by the way - i am just sharing my journey and where i am at with this.) <br />
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the truth is, as much as He has taken care of me (usually through the generosity and kindness of others) up until this point, he will do the same moving forward. after all, he is my daily bread, the provider - my provider - of all things. daily.<br />
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i've already seen some crazy things happen since making that verse my prayer. <br />
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i found a ride (one way) to my work conference/credentialing banquet next month and a roommate to cut the cost in half, my sister offered to pay for my train so i can go and visit her and the baby in just over a week, a friend gave me a gift card to subway (i eat a veggie sub at least three times a week) this afternoon to celebrate my recent credentialing, another friend from college (over a decade ago) emailed me this morning to let me know that he and his wife would like to make sure i have the right pair of running shoes for my upcoming mud hero run (stay tuned for details), and relationally (provision goes beyond finances), i've eaten less meals alone and had more invitations to hang out this week than i have in a long time (and even had to turn one down so i could rest and spend some much needed time alone!)<br />
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what do you need this week? better yet, today? don't be afraid to ask the Lord, our Daily Bread, for it. He knows what we need before we ask, yes, but ask Him any ways! apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-26737222249647694452019-04-20T12:12:00.003-07:002019-04-21T05:00:54.737-07:00i dare not put myself at the crucifixion scene that day.<br />
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i mean, would i still be kicking myself in the butt for falling asleep on jesus when he asked me to keep watch (more than once!) prior to his capture? would i disappear, get up close and personal like the masses or watch from a distance like peter? would i join in the chant to crucify him or be placed on the cross next to him? depends on who i was in the story, i guess, but truth be told, i could have been anyone.<br />
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or how about the next day when all was still? would i have mourned with hope knowing that what jesus said was true and that who he said he was was true? or would the silent darkness cloud my belief and make me doubt both?<br />
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and how about when the tomb rolled away on the third day? what would i have done then? believe the rumours about the disciples stealing his body? make stuff up in my head to try and make sense of it all, search for concrete proof myself, or rejoice, knowing, again, he did what he said he was going to do? <br />
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the answer is, <b>i don't know</b>; i don't know what i would have done then, but i do know what i'll do now. i choose to believe. by golly, this easter, i choose to believe. <br />
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the story line makes sense. the evidence points to the gospel's validity. covenants were made and kept on God's end and prophesies were fulfilled; jesus, the long waited messiah came to earth in human form, was born in a manger (what up, christmas!), lived a sin-less life, exemplified what living a life of love and servant-hood should look like, and humbled himself enough to die on a cross for our sins - <i>my </i>sins - before 'sealing the deal' and coming back to life. <br />
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sure, we can read this blog (or better yet, the bible) and debate it - we weren't there - but i tell you one thing, He's changed my life! His love keeps me secure and grounded. His teachings motivate me to humble myself (still working on that) and live a selfless life full of love and one worthy of my calling (still working on this, too), and His unconditional love and grace transform me every single day, including, but not limited to, easter. <br />
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why, if you ask me, it's the greatest story ever told and i plan on celebrating it in style this weekend! who's with me? apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-29593475488173739412019-04-16T08:29:00.001-07:002019-04-16T11:12:36.810-07:00i turned 39 last week. 39. i remember being a teenager and thinking that 39 was ancient, and now i don't. i'm just hitting my prime! <br />
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to celebrate, i decided to make a list of things i've learned along the way. my intent was to create 39 of them, but apparently i've only learned 23. still working on some, though. <br />
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without further ado...<br />
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24. allow for margin in your life. sometimes your bus is late or traffic sucks. (or you desperately need a coffee or bump into someone you know.) <br />
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23. find some kids to hang around and let loose. pretend to be a dinosaur. build a sand castle. play. <br />
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22. get some fresh air whenever you can. <br />
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21. hug your parents. <br />
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20. tip well. an extra few bucks here and there won't kill you (and will help someone pay their bills.)<br />
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19. hospitality is a gift. invite as many people over as you can, and sit around as many tables as you can. <br />
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18. let your friends buy you dinner once in a while. offer to buy theirs. <br />
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17. use names while talking to people and look them in the eye. <br />
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16. conflict should be approached with the intent to protect the relationship. (your relationship with a spouse, friend, job, whatever.)<br />
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15. counting to ten (and more when needed) changes the way you react. <br />
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14. find somewhere to volunteer. <br />
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13. travel the world and get to know other cultures. try new things and eat new food, listen to stories and see the world through their eyes. <br />
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12. don't be reckless with anyone's heart. don't let others be reckless with yours, either. (thanks, baz luhrmann.) <br />
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11. remember, the mirrors in a retail store are designed to make you look better than the ones at home. your clothes/appearance shouldn't define you any way.<br />
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10. when giving out your number, set boundaries right away. saying something like, "i will reply when i can" alleviates pressure (for you) and expectations (for others.) <br />
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9. nap when you can. (plus, you'll get an extra sit-up in.) <br />
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8. don't pick a career based on money. find one that makes you feel alive and makes good use of your gifts. <br />
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7. scared? do it any way! the scariest things have the greatest rewards. <br />
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6. what you see depends solely on what you look for. look for the good in people and the good all around you, and cling to it. <br />
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5. you will always find your way; what is for you will not pass you by. <br />
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4. people can't read your mind. say what's on it (with love and grace) - still learning this. <br />
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3. there is no script to ministry or life. (thanks, kim.) most things don't go as planned. be flexible. <br />
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2. celebrate your friends. show up to their weddings, baby showers, ordinations, birthday dinners, you name it.<br />
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1. follow Christ. He's the real deal, extremely trustworthy, constant and ever-present. apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488275394649280350.post-82579591103633621892019-03-27T13:30:00.001-07:002019-05-14T02:32:19.753-07:00does anyone else feel an ounce of compassion for the driver responsible for the humboldt bus crash? <br />
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now before you get all squirrely on me, i understand that he is responsible for killing 16 and injuring 13 people, <b>and that in itself is beyond tragic</b>, but my heart breaks for him, too. maybe it would have been different had he had been under the influence, or looking down at his phone, or if he decided to deliberately blow through a stop sign due to poor time management. but he didn't do any of those things; he was simply inexperienced and allegedly distracted by the unsecured tarp on the back of his truck instead of noticing the (literal) warning signs. it could have happened to any one of us, and the fact that he has taken full responsibility for his actions and decided to spare the families an exhausting and painful court process <b>because he knows how much pain he has already caused them</b> makes me feel even more sorry for him. though i believe that consequences are necessary in this case (and in most cases), there's gotta be grace. <br />
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i would say that i am pretty good (and getting better) at extending grace to others (at least when my emotions die down), but i really suck - and i mean really suck - at extending grace to myself. i am my own worst critic, after all. <br />
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anyone with me? any one else lie in bed at night and replay things you said, but shouldn't have? things you didn't do, but should have? hurt that you caused? people you misunderstood or withheld love from due to insecurity? <br />
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real talk: i've been wrestling with feelings of shame lately and battling self- hate when it comes to who i am when i'm (mentally) sick. how i act. my resting ______ face (i work with youth; i shall not swear) and my intense emotions. <br />
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but as i sit here thinking about jaskirat singh sidhu, the truck driver responsible for that tragic accident almost a year ago, i remember that i deserve grace, too. we all do.apaulagizehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17488133713622311011noreply@blogger.com0