Of all the liars in the world...

I realized tonight that I am enjoying this season of Lent, that it is doing things in my heart yet again, that God is working, even where I didn't expect him.

I'm fasting once a week, and I've stopped reading fiction for the course of this season. Both things that I felt God was asking me to do without for a while, in order to more fully listen to his voice. Both food and novels are ways I hide from the world, and often from the more painful realities in my own life, and the painful things God is doing.

Here's the thing, while the fasting isn't that easy, and I can't quite figure out what to do with my time now that I'm not reading two or three novels a week, I feel certain things shifting in me. I feel parts of me coming alive again, in ways they haven't been alive for a quite a while now. I am listening more, instead of filling the space in my head with false realities. I am hearing God, and voices of people I trust. I'm checking out sermons, reading works of theology and biography, and watching things that challenge me. I am feeling inspired to create again, and to write. I haven't particularly wanted to write this last while - not the blogging sort of writing, but essay writing, and working on a book project I started last fall. I want to create beauty again, rather than just enjoy other's creations from a distance.

Today, as I took the train to work, I was writing in the journal that has rapidly become my c-train book (it's smaller than my other journal, more portable, and pretty - orange silk with a cool decoration - a gift from a friend's trip to China last year). As I was writing, I began to reflect on the various things I'd learned in four weeks of fasting on Mondays. I'm not going to share those things here, yet, and maybe never, but as I wrote I came to the conclusion that even if God does not provide the clarity and direction I'm seeking over the course of this fast, I won't regret it. I value the things I am learning about myself, about God, and about my relationship with God.

Sometime in the next few days I'm going to post some "Jesus stories" here. The latest discussion topic on Marty's blog has got me thinking, and I definitely have some stories to tell - some I'll tell there, some I'll tell here.

See you then!

Check out this article (on RelevantMagazine.com) by Jason Upton's drummer. I appreciated the reminder of the importance of the "ordinary" events.

The vast majority of my extended family lives far away. I see them once every four or five years, or in between if some of them happen to visit Canada.

There have been moments that I’ve resented this distance – this separation from an entire part of my heritage. I’m a historian. I can’t help it. I value family and family heritage quite highly.

But what I really need to admit is that most of the time I’m very glad that they live in another country. That particular part of my family is the very epitomy of the word “dysfunctional.” I once described certain members of that side of my family to a friend who is never without a joke. After I finished, he kind of stared at me for a second, paused, and wryly said, “There’s just no punchline – they’re their own punchline.” To be honest, I think the constant drama, the constant issues, the emotional and spiritual tension would weigh on me far more heavily than it already does at times if I lived nearby. I feel called to love broken people, and break silences that oppress, but a lot of the time I struggle to extend that compassion to my own family, so mired in silence, so seemingly beyond restoration.

May God grant me a growing heart of mercy and restoration not only for the world, but for those within my own family.

I thought I'd stop in long enough to mention how much I value the people in my life, even the ones I only see once every month or too because of location differences, or schedule differences, or just lack of major effort.

I went to Kari's birthday party last night. I came home feeling bathed in love and restored in spirit. (When was the last time you could say THAT about a birthday party?) It wasn't that anything particular happened, it wasn't that there were stunning moments, it was just that I was with people who I knew were actually interested in my life, and in the conversations we were having. We didn't talk about anything earth-shaking, just the variety of things we hold in common and the things we don't. We even talked for a while about who (up to 5 people living or dead) we'd invite to our ultimate dinner party. Everyone from Bono to someone's mom were mentioned!

I am grateful for these friends, who challenge me to keep pushing for more things in life. I am grateful for hugs - I've discovered a huge affinity in the past year for physical contact, particularly the hug. And these people give them freely. I'm grateful for invitations to other events, for friends who share interests and friends who don't, and thus broaden my own interest.

I came home feeling warm and happy, and this is a rare occurrence for me after a big social gathering.

Thanks, Jesus for good friends.

This is my new haircut. Not a great picture, you can't see the blond and the red really well, but I thought I'd share it because it made me smile.

I just glanced at Enviroment Canada's five day forecast for Calgary. There is skirt weather coming our way, possibly by Saturday!

I just thought that I'd share with you all that my late night in combination with the cold/stomach bug I've been fighting for a week or two now have caught up with me, and I am having blond moments left right and center. In that spacy, can't quite believe the lapse in intelligence kind of way that I specialize in.

I’m over winter. I mean really. 6 cm short of record snow-fall in February. I heard somewhere that we had 3 times the average snowfall this February. I picked my best friend up at the airport last night from a flight that was about 2 hours late due to bad weather where she was flying from complicated by bad weather in Calgary. As we brushed the four day accumulation off of her car in my driveway at midnight last night, she commented, “Who moves to a place where they have weather like this all the time?” I laughed at her, because she moved from the much more temperate West Coast to Calgary. She’s just sensitive because she got used to all that nice weather in Pakistan.

Now me, on the other hand – I have full complaining rights. I am a born and bred Calgarian, and like any good Calgarian, I do love to hate the weather. Have I mentioned in the last week or so that one of my goals in life is to live somewhere where I can wear skirts year-round without the risk of frostbite? My work wardrobe is severely limited when the weather and necessity of walking to and from the train confines it to pants and sweaters!

Do you think it will help if I declare the official end of winter? (I’m jealous of Nolan and his plans to leave for California soon – much better weather there!)