Saying Goodbye

The time has come for me to bring to an end this blog which has so well served me over the past years. The next chapter of my life is about to unfold with my upcoming marriage and move across the country and there will be a new blog to follow me through out all the next years.

If my ramblings and philosophical ideas have not already bored you, feel free to keep reading at canadianprairiewife.blogspot.com

The Value of Country Music

It is no secret to anyone long term reader of this blog that I love country music. I am aware that many people do not like country music and that is fine. I have been looking at the reasons that I enjoy country music so much. The reason I love it so much is that it speaks of honour and a manner of chivalry which seems long since past. I have been listening a lot to a song called The Facts of Life by Adam Gregory. The lyrics that keep going around in my head are these. "You better shoot straight and have faith that your prayers are heard. When you give a handshake, make no mistake, you're giving your word." There have been so many times in the past that I have found a handshake or a promise of truth not enough to ensure the validity of a statement. Sometimes it is hard to have faith that you prayers are heard. Country music has no problem drawing on faith as inspiration or speaking openly about that. As annoying as some country music is, it can bring me to tears and it calls upon an era of chivalry that has long since been forgotten. That is why I love it.

My Defining Feature

In three months, I will be married and moving away from all that I have grown up with and what I know. I will be leaving behind my vocation and my families. My address will change drastically and my new life will begin. In light of all the major changes that are a part of my life, I am beginning to wonder what it is that defines me. What makes me unique?

I used to think that being a musician was what defined me. My ability to play an instrument that very few people in the world play and the glory that that brought me was my defining feature for many years. For so many years that was what defined who I was. Now I have lost the power to create music in that way because of the stress it has put on my body. I have lived in chronic pain for 7 years and that has led to my choice to stop being a musician, at least in a professional capacity. I am learning to love the music that I used to before I began to study music. While I have lost what once was one of my most defining features I have been able to regain my love of what I had once lost.

Now, I am no longer certain of what defines me. Is it my role as a L'Arche assistant and caregiver? My role as friend or fiancee? The future role that I shall take on as the rector's wife of various parishes over a long lifetime? I am no longer certain. If I am defined by my vocation, than I should not be leaving it, but I am. I am not certain that I wish to be defined by the role of rector's wife that I am taking on. I am a bit of a feminist and I have no desire to be overshadowed by my husband's vocation. I have one of my own. Maybe I will be lucky enough to have two vocations. Not many are.

With all my confusion of what doesn't define me any longer, I have forgotten all the things that do. My love and joy of being with people, even when it is not the best day in the world. The fact that I love what I do more than anything else and that I will be heartbroken to leave here, even though I know I will carry it with me always. Perhaps that is what defines me. A heart for service full of L'Arche. Maybe that's it.

A Natural Disaster

When cataclysm strikes, the spirit is tested.

The Earth had turned over in it sleep.

People have been crushed, killed, wounded

Let us pray for the survivors,

that their lives may be rebuilt.

When cataclysm strikes, the spirit is tested,

wakes from its dream of immortality.

Yet the spirit cannot be crushed, killed or wounded.

Let us pray that everyone who has suffered

may find strength in the spirit.

~from Gujarat, India

The Weight of Words

I have recently become much more aware of the importance of words and how carefully they must be used. Part of the reason for my newfound awareness is the fact that I have been fighting more. The reason for my recently discovered passion for argument is that I have someone worth fighting with and worth fighting for. It does also mean that I have to be much more careful with my words, especially when I am angry, as I do not wish for my anger to inflict hurt.

Words can be so easily used to wound, often in an irreversible way. Physical bruises may fade, but the pain inflicted by poorly chosen words may remain. However, it is also possible for well crafted and perfectly selected words to be recalled for a lifetime. They may be the words shaped by the greatest wordsmiths of history or words spoken spontaneously with genuine passion and honesty.

In the electronic age in which we exist, there is both a plethora of words and a great misuse of them. When the printed word first became widely available, it was held as something sacred, something that must be carefully considered and crafted. Now, the days are long gone of illuminations of manuscripts as well as the art of penmanship. We absorb so much written information in the day, as well as communicating with poorly chosen words for the most part. We do not take care in what we say to each other, nor what we write. Communication has become a commodity instead of an art. Productivity is measured in how many emails can be sent and how many words can be produced. As a student, words were measured. Papers could only be a certain length, or a professor could refuse to grade it. We had to measure our words to ensure that they were not similar to the words of any other. Writing became a task instead of a pleasure and the weight of them became almost unbearable. The glory of writing for the sake of writing, to enjoy the feel of the words as they move around in your mouth before being transferred to the page is astonishing. The weight has been lifted from my shoulders and transferred into what I write.

Perhaps one day what I write will be published. Until then, the weight of it is enough to comfort my soul.

Team Hoyt

I don't like adding links to my blog, as I tend to think that words can speak more than well enough for themselves, but in this case I will make an exception.

This story is an incredible inspiration for me, especially given what I strive to live out every days of my life. While it is unlikely that I will ever do an Iron Man with another person, the freedom and joy that comes from transcending your limits is what I would love to be able to do and give every day. I know that right now I do not always fulfill my goal to transcend limitations on a regular basis, but I do know what I can always strive towards.

On a less work related note, this is also an incredible story of family and the sacrifices that a father makes for his son in order to show him the life that he is capable of having, despite his physical limitations. Part of me in envious for that kind of parent-child relationship that I will never have with my own father. The other part of me is determined that I will be present enough to offer that to the children that I will have in the future. I can strive to become an inspirational parent who makes sacrifices to give the fullest life possible to their children. I know that even though I do not yet have children, I can strive towards the same goals for all of those I work with and care for.

It is so easy to see Christ in what Dick has done for his son. He has given up many parts of his life in order to ensure that his son knows that he loved and beloved. He has put aside his physical limitations to ensure that Rick has what his heart needs to flourish and be seen as a person and not a disability. He has given his life for his son. That is the most amazing sacrifice a parent can make for their child and it never fails to touch my heart. Maybe one day I will be able to watch their story without crying, but I don't think it will be any time soon.

The Act of Waiting

I used to consider waiting a passive thing and I tend to not be a terribly passive person when it comes to not doing anything. This year, I fear is going to be a year of waiting. Thankfully waiting is not quite as passive as I had once believed.

I am waiting for a great number of things right now. I am waiting to go to China, to finish work, for my fiancee's ordination, to get married and begin my marriage, to go back to school and hopefully find my vocation. I am waiting for people to get along with each other, I am waiting to have more time to myself. I am waiting for so many things, but I am not waiting passively.

I am planning for many things, such as wedding details and picking things for classes in the fall. I am learning about the place where I will be living and trying to find ways in which I will be able to adjust to a drastically different life style than the one I have become accustomed to. I am taking every bit of joy I can out of the work that I do because I do know that I will not be able to do this forever. I am waiting for parts of my life to end while others will begin.

It has been a process of learning for me that waiting does not mean doing nothing. It actually means do something. It brought a drastically different meaning to the season of Advent that has just past, as well as adding a different perspective to my year of waiting. It could be something that I could learn to enjoy, I hope. It's good practice for other times in my life when I will have to wait and simply enjoy the miracle of time and the miracle of having it.