I fell asleep to silence and in the morning there was a storm. The trees were clanging like escaped church bells. We followed our daily routine and went downstairs. I lit a candle and then I made a fire in the wood stove. As I waited for the fire to build itself up so that I could add some larger blocks I poured myself some mostly hot water left in an insulated thermos into my mug. Outside the storm raged and inside there was another. My daughter was having a tantrum. She was lying on the floor kicking. I have written much about the beauty of parenting and about the fatigue but I haven't written about this. Tantrums it seems are as common to young children as winds are to a coastal winter. The room suddenly filled with orange light. I scooped up the toddler with the tear stained cheeks and we rushed outside the door to watch orange clouds like goldfish in a pond. I looked at the little face and saw a smile. No tantrum and no storm can last forever. "...weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning." Psalm 30:5
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I lived alone with my baby in an off-grid cabin on a remote island off the coast of British Columbia. Now I live alone on Prince Edward Island with my ten year old daughter.
"Don't wish me happiness I don't expect to be happy all the time....It's gotten beyond that somehow. Wish me courage and strength and a sense of humor. I will need them all." Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Sunday, 31 January 2016
Monday, 25 January 2016
Trust in the valley
In the silence of an evening I sit in front of a curtain less window. High overhead is a white moon and a white cloud floats on the horizon. The room is dark behind me and the moonlight brushes my wet cheek with the luminosity of promise. I follow the pathway of wordless light into the forest. I see tree trunks standing silently and sword fern fronds reaching up like children for an embrace. I don't remember what it is like to feel a mans arms anymore but I feel peace in this light knowing that I too walk my own path. It isn't one I charted - but as the moon cannot run from it's light neither can I edge off this trail. If the moon shone every night there would be no intoxicating blindness. Neither would there be sadness that clings like sand on a leaf. In time we all must find our way. Faith is mine to chose and release belongs to those who trust. Looking backwards I see the blind folly of youth and its sweet innocence but here in this mid life forest I have learned I am not to blame for what was or could have been. I know now when a tree falls to look up before moving and when the wind blows to stay home. Moonlight is deceptive. Blooming unseen beside the ferns are the white blossoms of primroses. In the morning I will see them and this is why I choose to trust in what I cannot see. "Even though I walk through the valley.....you are with me." Psalm 23:4 May I pray for you? Do you have a prayer request?
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