Questions about the world

Miss Kristy: Can you fly?
Kid: No
Miss Kristy: Why?
Kid: Because I don't have wings
Miss Kristy: What can fly?
Kid: Unicorns
Miss Kristy: How?
Kid: Because they have smart brains and wings
Miss Kristy: If you had wings, could you fly?
Kid: Yes
Miss Kristy: Can you grow wings?
Kid: No
Miss Kristy: Why?
Kid: Because I don't have sprouts and seeds in my back
Miss Kristy: If you had sprouts and seeds in your back, could you grow wings?
Kid: Yes


Miss Kristy: What makes a rainbow?
Kid: Water
Miss Kristy: Where does the water come from?
Kid: The rain
Miss Kristy: Can you touch a rainbow?
Kid: No. Because they are too far
Miss Kristy: If you were close to a rainbow, could you touch it?
Kid: Yes
Miss Kristy: What would it feel like?
Kid: A mommy


Miss Kristy: How do you buy things at the store?
Kid: Using your hands
Miss Kristy: How do your hands help you buy things?
Kid: By moving


Kid: Miss Kristy, can you get the duck tape so I can tape these straws together?
Miss Kristy: Sure, can you answer some questions while you tape the straws together?
Kid: Sure...ummm duck tape helps us.
Miss Kristy: Do you have a brother?
Kid: Yes
Miss Kristy: Are you a brother or a sister?
Kid: A sister
Miss Kristy: What are mommy and daddy, are they brother and sister?
Kid: Ummm...no
Miss Kristy: What are they?
Kid: They're just...ok ready for the duck tape?



Miss Kristy: Can you touch the air?
Kid: Yes
Miss Kristy: How?
Kid: With my fingers


Miss Kristy: If you close your eyes, can you still listen?
Kid: Yes
Miss Kristy: Why?
Kid: Because I have good ears


Miss Kristy: What makes the leaves fall?
Kid: The wind
Miss Kristy: Where does the wind come from?
Kid: The clouds
Miss Kristy: Where do the clouds come from?
Kid: The fog


Miss Kristy: What makes a shadow?
Kid: Stuff
Miss Kristy: What kind of stuff?
Kid: Toys make shadows...and myself
Miss Kristy: How?
Kid: By using a flashlight

Just a pile of muck

I have been dabbling in pottery for the past few months and thoroughly enjoy sitting at the wheel with my hands mucky and coming out with something that's a sorry excuse for a bowl, cup, or what have you.
Pottery for me has been that hobby that is unlike anything else I've done before. Scrapping is fun but expensive. Photography is good too but I'm only good with kids. Quilting is rewarding but it takes so long to get the finished product that I lose patience. Then there came pottery. Something I have always been interested in but never took the time or seized the opportunity to explore. Since I've started pottery, there have just been a miss mash of philosophical awakenings each time I go. Largely they are of the spiritual kind.
"You have to listen" my instructor explained. "If you don't listen you'll get frustrated with yourself and with me. In order for you to do this you have to listen to what I say and try not to get ahead of where I'm telling you to go." Right.
"Put your hands together. Your hands are stronger when they're together than when they're apart." Right.
"You can reuse anything you think is a mistake." Right.
"You might think something is a mistake or it doesn't turn out how you imagined it, but sometimes they're your best pieces or they're the ones that turn out even better than you thought." Right.
"Sometimes when something isn't working you need to stop and come back to it later." Right.
"When you wedge the clay (kneed it) you wear your muscles down so you're not as likely to fight the clay when you get it on the wheel." Right.
"When you feel friction between your hands and the clay your piece will start to come apart." Right.

If I go and get nothing that I can physically hold in my hand, I walk away with an experience unlike anything else I've done before.

Sin Boldly

“If you are a preacher of grace, then preach a true and not a fictitious grace; if grace is true, you must bear a true and not a fictitious sin. God does not save people who are only fictitious sinners. Be a sinner and sin boldly,  but believe and rejoice in Christ even more boldly, for he is victorious over sin, death, and the world. As long as we are here [in this world]  we have to sin. This life is not the dwelling place of righteousness,  but, as Peter says,  we look for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells. It is enough that by the riches of God’s glory we have come to know the Lamb that takes away the sin of the world.  No sin will separate us from the Lamb, even though we commit fornication and murder a thousand times a day. Do you think that the purchase price that was paid for the redemption of our sins by so great a Lamb is too small? Pray boldly—you too are a mighty sinner.”

Then I'm gonna wait right here

While taking a stroll yesterday, Sarah was looking up at the big dark rain clouds overhead and asked, "Miss Kristy, what will we do if it starts to rain on us." I said, "I guess we'll just have to take off our shoes and dance in the rain." Surprised by my response she smiled and said, "Then I'm gonna wait right here!" After a few minutes she followed it up with, "I wish it would really do that, dancing in the rain would be fun!"

I wonder why we're so afraid of the rain sometimes. At the Jason Mraz concert during the opening act when the Heaven's opened above us and rain pelted every fiber of our clothing, Mr. Opening Act said, "Come on people, it's just rain. It makes things grow." Quickly they changed up their set list and began to sing an African song about the rain falling while the people started to dance around us.

The sunshine is beautiful but the rain is more freeing.

I love to watch the rain. I love the sound of the rain. I love what the rain teaches us. I love that (to steal a quote from Bruce Almighty) no matter how dirty something gets you can always clean it right up.

I've embraced a thought again, a mantra if you will, that God is preparing me for something. Seeing the rain in my life as preparation for something bigger makes me embrace those showers and see them as opportunities to be content whatever the circumstance. I like this new thought, as it forces me to not be anxious and driven to get to the next stage of my life.

One Christmas, Stephanie and Tilden gave us a frame with a blessing painted around it. It's big enough that when I lie in bed I can still read the words. When I can't get to sleep, I'll read these words over and over again and fall asleep reciting a blessing on my life:

May the sun bring you new energy by day
May the moon softly restore you by night
May the rain wash away your worries
May the breeze blow new strength into your being
May you walk gently through the world and know it's beauty
all the days of your life.

Amen.

What do I know?

I woke up this morning with a sigh. We probably slept most of yesterday waking up long enough to eat and then pass out again. Coming back to Charlotte was definitely different this time. Normally I am satisfied after a two week vacation filled with multiple destinations around Newfoundland, long chats around the kitchen table, endless cups of tea, and more food than a bear can store up for the winter. At the end of every trip when the inevitable goodbyes come, you hug your loved ones especially the ones who are more over the hill and the thought will always cross you mind that this may very well be the last time you get to hold them, say I love you, and then good bye.
Our first week was relaxing and went at what seemed like a snail's pace. We did not complain. My grandmother (Nan) has been sick for the past month and doctor's could not quite figure out what the problem was. On Friday, her CT scan showed her cancer is back and there is a mass attached to her abdominal wall. She was admitted Friday evening. On Monday, Des and I were in St. John's (about an hour from our hometowns) to do some visiting and were just getting things together to have dinner with my cousin and his new fiancee when the phone rang and it was mom saying they had taken Nan to ICU. Her breathing had become labored and she was on oxygen. Shortly after my sister got home mom called again and said Nan had been moved to palliative care, we had to move fast. We got to the hospital and I thought Nan had hours to live. The doctor said she may not make it through the night. Late that evening, the minister was called. He arrived with his wife shortly after. The room was packed with family and we all fell silent when the ministers came in the room. He waited for a while before reading Psalm 23 and then his wife prayed. After she prayed Nan made a grunt and we asked if she had heard the prayer, she grunted again. Within that next hour, Nan was asking for water. In the wee hours of the morning, she drank two cups of tea. By the morning, she was lifting a cup to her mouth unassisted. The doctor came in the next morning and was totally baffled at what he saw. She asked why he had moved her to palliative care and he told her point blank, "because we thought you weren't going to make it." She tutted. She asked when she could eat again. The doctor convinced her to take it slow as he was not prepared for this turn of events. You have to understand, she was supposed to die that night. There is a mottling of the skin that occurs just before death and Nan had that. This rash is irreversible once it occurs, and the doctor said her blood pH was at a level that was incompatible with life. By the morning her rash was gone.
That night, we stayed at the hospital. Trying to take her mind off of things I grabbed the Bible and asked if there was a favorite passage she would like me to read to her. She said, "I like it all." I thought so. I told her it was a New Testament copy so what in the New Testament do you like and warned her not to say, "I like it all." She chuckled and said, "What about something in Philippians." I turned to Philippians 4 and read the chapter. Side note: Gideons, please place updated versions of the bible in hospital rooms. Thank you.

"Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength."

The week that followed was a double edged sword to be a part of. On the one hand, I was so blessed to be in the room that night to witness this incredible will to live. To come back from the very edge of death and want nothing more than a good cup of tea should give you an indication of how good tea tastes in Newfoundland. On the other hand, as Walter Scheles put it, death is hard work. And although she is getting stronger every day, gone are the days of walking into her house and hearing her voice say, "Hello?" While I am able to get on a plane and have my last memories be good, my family has to stay behind and see it to the end.
Leaving the hospital on Saturday evening was possibly leaving Nan for the last time. I kissed her forehead and told her I loved her and took in one last gulp of the smell of her hair. She sighed and said "love you too." What a wonderful thing to know you are loved.
For the past week the song "What Do I Know" has been going through my head. I chose not to listen to it while at home. So yesterday while floating above the clouds, I found the track and turned it up.

I have a friend who just turned eighty-eight
and she just shared with me that she's afraid of dying.
I sit here years from her experience
and try to bring her comfort.
I try to bring her comfort
But what do I know? What do I know?
She grew up singing about the glory land,
and she would testify how Jesus changed her life.
It was easy to have faith when she was thirty-four,
but now her friends are dying, and death is at her door.
And what do I know? What do I know?

Well,I don't know that there are harps in heaven,
Or the process for earning your wings.
I don't know of bright lights at the ends of tunnels,
Or any of these things.

She lost her husband after sixty years,
and as he slipped away she still had things to say.
Death can be so inconvenient.
You try to live and love. It comes and interrupts.
And what do I know? What do I know?

Well,I don't know that there are harps in heaven,
Or the process for earning your wings.
And I don't know of bright lights at the ends of tunnels,
Or any of these things.

But I know to be absent from this body is to be present with the Lord,
and from what I know of him, that must be pretty good.
Oh, I know to be absent from this body is to be present with the Lord,
and from what I know of him, that must be very good.

If you look for it you'll find it

Kid: Miss Kristy, there are paper plates in that cupboard, can you get one for me?

(Miss Kristy opens the cupboard, looks inside)

Miss Kristy: Sorry, I don't see any plates

Kid: Okay...now I want you to look REALLY hard. Do you see them now?

Good tune

“i think that possibly, maybe i’m falling for you
yes theres a chance that i’ve fallen quite hard over you.
i’ve seen the paths that your eyes wander down
i want to come to

i think that possibly, maybe i’m falling for you

no one understands me quite like you do
through all of the shadowy corners of me

if i didn’t know you, i’d rather not know
if i couldn’t have you, i’d rather be alone."

Good tune.