The Marriage of Your Dreams~Rick Johnson {Book Review}

I read three books on men and marriage in the last 2 weeks. It’s kind of hard not to compare them to each other. I’m one of these women that will read everything and anything on marriage because I want mine to be better. I am not satisfied with where we’re at in our marriage and I don’t think any person ever is. It’s always growing, always changing and always challenging.

That’s why this title intrigued me.  Who doesn’t want the marriage of their dreams? The tag line on the front cover says ” A Woman’s Guide to Understanding Her Man” which piqued my curiosity too! However, I had just finished reading What Your Husband Isn’t Telling You which I thought was the most concise, complete commentary on men I had ever read. Certainly there isn’t more, is there?

From the publisher’s website, here is a quick bio on Rick Johnson:

Rick Johnson is a bestselling author of That’s My Son; That’s My Teenage Son; That’s My Girl; Better Dads, Stronger Sons; and Becoming Your Spouse’s Better Half. He is the founder of Better Dads and is a sought-after speaker.

 

The synopsis of the book(as written on the back cover) :

The marriage of your dreams may be closer than you think

It may surprise you to find that men are fairly simple creatures with fairly simple needs. Understanding and responding to his needs is a positive step that can help him realize and fulfillyour needs. And when both of you meet each other’s needs, your marriage becomes stronger–and a lot more fun.

Relationship expert (and fairly simple creature himself) Rick Johnson gives you an open and honest look inside a man’s world. With candor, humor, and insight, Rick shows you how to understand your man, including

• his need for respect and admiration
• his sexual desires
• his communication style
• his work
• his emotions
• his relationship with the “other woman” in his life (his mother)

With Rick’s help, you’ll learn how best to use your considerable influence in his life to have a satisfying and exciting relationship that lasts a lifetime.

First of all, I will say that there were sections and passages of this book that I felt were redundant and repetitive. The point is made and it’s clear and then the author re-states it and re-words it~but it’s still the same point.  I found that to happen periodically throughout the book and I figured it might detract from the message. But honestly, the first couple chapters had my attention. Why? Because they jumped into the topic of a man and his relationship with his own mother and his mother-in-law as telling indicators of how he may or may not treat his wife. I found them fascinating. Perhaps because my husband’s relationship with his own mother is somewhat of a mystery to me and yet this was extremely enlightening. For the first two chapters alone, this book is worth the read and worth buying. I think we often underplay how our husbands were raised and how they view their own mother.

“A wise(and healthy) mother realizes that a wife supplanting her role as the most important woman in her son’s life is the natural course of life, and she allows her son to go without clinging to that queen bee status she has held in his life since birth. A mother who won’t willingly relinquish this role frequently resorts to emotional manipulation to control him. She attempts to subtly undermine or sabotage his relationship~all very innocently of course.” ~p.27

The other thing that makes this book stand out is that Rick Johnson uses years of counseling and speaking experiences where he has gathered common questions that women ask. This is actually the foundation of the book and what moves it along.  The questions run the gamut from childhood abuse to pornographic use to adulterous affairs to spiritual leadership. Women have questions and we want answers. The author does a great job in pointedly answering these questions and it is a valuable resource.

This book, is kind of like an encyclopedia for women about those things that bug us and threaten our marriages and our relationships with our husbands.

I would recommend this first to mothers of sons(if only just for the first 2 chapters) and then for women planning on getting married soon, those who have been married for a short time and are confused about  what is going on and for women who have been married for many years.  Even if you think you’ve got your husband figured out, it never hurts to have an outside viewpoint of the influences on our men.  And there are many.

“Book has been provided courtesy of Baker Publishing Group and Graf-Martin Communications, Inc.
Available at your favourite bookseller from Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group”.

What Your Husband Isn’t Telling You~David Murrow {Book Review}

Wow. Let’s get right to it: this is THE BEST book I’ve read on men. Ever. Blunt. Revealing. Profoundly enlightening.

I’ve been married for almost 21 years and I’ve learned a lot about men that I never knew or understood. I have read a lot of books on marriage and men and our relationship with them.  But I have had questions and some things have never been clear. This book, written by a man, is the answer to pretty much all of those questions.

Written from the viewpoint of a man who was deeply wounded by a difficult past that threatened all of his relationships and who is not shy about addressing a broad range of topics, I found it easy to get into, extremely captivating and thorough in every respect.

Warning: some of this book may come across sexist or even chauvinist.  I would urge all women to read it with an open mind and hear the voice of a man. The fact is, we are different creatures and trying to fit us all into a universal non-specific gender role is NOT working. Read this book and hear the heart of a man.

From the introduction: If the shrinks are right, about 80 percent of a man’s thought processes are opaque-even to him.  This is why committed family men suddenly leave their wives for no reason. Why deacons smile at church and then scream at their children in the car all the way home. Why men who are normally wise with money sink their cash into ridiculous Ponzi schemes. Why men who truly love their families suddenly abandon them- if not physically, then emotionally. -p.7-8

The most telling chapters were those written in the first person perspective of Provider and Protector.  Women, we might have had a clue but we didn’t really understand.

“When your man is secure and balanced as a protector and provider, he’s happy. So is everyone around him. Life is good. But when he’s out of balance in one or both, expect trouble. And that leads us to the great problem with me: most are either over- or underdeveloped as providers and protectors.” ~p.18

This book is a must on every home book shelf. For every woman in a relationship with a man, married or not, I cannot recommend this highly enough.  And yes, there are sections on sex but more so the chapters that reveal the heart of our men are priceless. Women are initiating divorce two-thirds of the time and over 90% of those divorces are not related to abuse but rather, discontentment.

“If you penalize your man each time he tells you his true feelings, here’s the message you are sending: ‘if you want your life to be hell, tell me the truth.If you want things to go smoothly, lie to me; tell me only those things that will keep me happy in my delusions.’ ” ~p.130

The last third of the book addresses something that I rarely gets talked about: a man’s spiritual aversions and his discontent with organized church.  I will admit that there are places where some women may take offense to the generalizations that David Murrow makes but he is careful to not lay blame solely on either men or women but rather on misunderstandings.  Church leaders would do well to read and understand why men are falling away from church in record numbers.

My book is ear-marked, highlighted and written in. I’ll be keeping it close by.  I’m a woman and I need reminders …often.

“So ladies, here’s the big secret to getting the man you want: Stop trying to improve him. Stop trying to fix him. Start trying to free him.” ~p.159

 

UPDATED: From my FB page came this comment from Jenna: “On your urging I read it tonight and liked it a lot. I appreciated that he was direct and to the point, without being wordy and redundant. I find a lot of Christian books on marriage, gender and family that are written by men to come off as patronizing, by this one wasn’t like that.”

“Book has been provided courtesy of Baker Publishing Group and Graf-Martin Communications, Inc.
Available at your favourite bookseller from Bethany House, a division of Baker Publishing Group”.

I receive no monetary compensation for reviewing books.

Help for that Cold or Flu {Home remedies and common sense}

Good grief you all are a bunch of sickies! I mean really! The flu season is early and it is brutal.

For the past 3 years we have managed to avoid the really nasty flu that levels a person for a three or more days. We’ve had a few minor colds and sinus infections and there have been coughs and some minor fevers but for the most part, we have been pretty healthy in spite of working and going to school with people who are clearly not well.

After 20 years of mothering four kids through school, church activities, sports, brutally cold winters and running my own dayhome, I have figured out a few tricks to combat illness.  You’ve probably heard of many of them but some may surprise you. I’m not a doctor or a health professional; I’m a mom. And this is common sense and few of “Grandma’s” remedies thrown in.

1. Don’t sanitize everything!  I do not clean my house like a crazy lady with OCD. Sorry, but germs are everywhere and I’m not going to kill myself trying to purge the house of every form of bacteria. In fact, I am almost exclusively opposed to the use of disinfecting wipes and anti-bacterial hand cleaners and soaps. They are actually making the transmission of germs worse(in my opinion).  Have you noticed how kids and families are getting sicker and for a longer period of time? I blame the over-sanitization of everything around us. Our immune systems simply cannot fight every little germ that comes along if we have been kept from building immunity to them. Now, I’m not suggesting you don’t clean up after a sick person or do preventative measures if you have a revolving door of little ones in your house…but temper that with common sense. Remember, some of us grew up eating dirt, dog food and the occasional helping of yellow snow. There was a time when “getting dirty” was considered healthy.

2. I use onions. A lot. Even if you don’t like onions, buy some. They’re cheap like borscht! There is much information on the internet which you can research but this is what I do: cut an onion, leave half on the kitchen counter at all times. Leave half or quarter onions on a glass plate or in a glass tumbler by the bedside of anyone who may be getting sick. Do this early~don’t wait till someone is so congested and feverish that they’re in it for the long haul. Change your onions out every 2-3 days during flu season. Yes, there is a bit of an odour at first but the onions do absorb bacteria and germs preventing them from being absorbed into your respiratory system. Also, boil some onions and inhale the steam for sinus infections. Drink onion broth when you have a cold and you can even try putting vicks on the bottom of your feet, add some slices of onion and put socks on to relieve sinus congestion.

3.Lemons/Honey:  My GO-TO remedy for coughs, colds and congestion is hot water with lemon juice and honey. I will swear by this till my dying day. Don’t just drink one cup, drink multiple~all day every day when you feel a cold coming on or even to prevent it. Lemons kill the bacteria in your respiratory system and honey is a natural healer and anti-inflammatory. Use raw honey if you can get it. Make it stronger if you are very congested or if you have a sore throat.

4. Cayenne pepper~ I don’t like really spicy foods and I certainly don’t like “hot” drinks but cayenne pepper is one of THE best remedies for congestion. Sprinkle a little into your lemon/honey drink. You will be amazed how quickly you feel better.

5. For sore throats and persistent hacking coughs, try this: (as seen on Pinterest) :¼ teaspoon Cayenne, ¼ teaspoon Ginger, 1 Tablespoon Cider Vinegar (organic, like Bragg’s is preferred), 2 Tablespoon Water, 1 Tablespoon Honey (locally produced raw honey if possible.) Dissolve cayenne and ginger in cider vinegar and water. Add honey and shake well. Take 1 Tablespoon as needed for cough.  Note: this doesn’t dissolve perfectly. Always shake well before using.

6. Fever. You know, a fever is not a bad thing. And sometimes making a person comfortable with rest and fluids and a cool cloth is a much better method than masking the fever with Ibuprofen or Acetaminophen .  Fever is the body’s way of killing off infection.  It’s a burning process and if you medicate the fever away, you’ve taken away the process of cleansing the body of those nasty infections critters~which may just tick them off and make them come back with a vengeance  Check out this article on fevers in children~enlightening! Fever Benefits 

7.Cinnamon/Honey

8. Vicks vapour rub or some other comparable product.  Do not ignore what generations before us have learned: the use of menthol and eucalyptus rubbed on chests, throats, backs and feet for congestion, coughing and upper respiratory infections like bronchitis and strep throat.  Wrap the area with cotton or wool to keep the heat in and help it penetrate. Rubbing vicks on your feet and wearing socks to bed helps to relieve congestion as you sleep and is also a really great way to help little kids out without fear of them getting their hands into in and then rubbing eyes. OUCH!  And moms,here’s a trick: Vicks is pretty strong for babies and toddlers. If you want to *dilute* it a bit, mix it 50/50 (or less) with petroleum jelly OR a lanolin based scent-free lotion. Way cheaper and more effective than buying “baby safe” products.

9. Mustard Plaster~oh, I have bad memories of these. Nasty,foul smelling and burning hot. HOWEVER, they work! There are precautions though. If you are using one on a child, be aware of how hot it gets. Check it often and and protect skin with a layer or two of cotton. (something that you will throw out like an old sheet or pillow case works best).  Don’t know what a mustard plaster is? You obviously didn’t have my mother as your bedside nurse~we endured them with every illness. Works best for chest congestions like pneumonia or bronchitis.  Simply, a mustard plaster is a paste made with flour and no…NOT hot dog mustard! Dry powdered mustard. “Since mustard seed is a stimulant it will warm the circulatory system. This can result in dilated blood vessels, plus a warmed system can help burn and metabolize fat in the body. As a warming herb, mustard seed will encourage perspiration that can lower fevers and cleanse the body of toxins. This will help the body fight colds and flu.”

Click on this link for more info but here’s the basics:

A mustard plaster is made by using 4 tablespoons of flour, 2 tablespoons dry mustard, and lukewarm water. A paste is made that is easily spread but not too watery.

The most effective way to apply any poultice is to use 100 percent flannel and spread the mixture over on half of the flannel and fold the other half to make a package. Apply the poultice to the chest, cover with a heavy blanket to encourage sweating. Do not apply the mustard plaster directly to the skin as it will burn.

The mustard plaster should be left on for up to 20 minutes. If the skin turns red remove the plaster immediately.

10. Fluids. You’ve heard it, but do you do it? Clear fluids when you’re sick. No milk, no chocolate milk, (actually, dairy products are just bad when you have a cold or respiratory infection as they promote bacteria and mucous).  Hot herbal teas, clear juice(but really, keep it to a minimum on the sugary drinks), chicken soup broth(more coming on that), hot water with lemon and honey.  And water. WATER. Room temperature water is sometimes easier to ingest for kids and even when you’re feeling really poorly. The shock of cold water can chill a feverish body.

11. Cook a chicken. You know those cheaper utility chickens in the frozen food section that you often ignore? Well, when they’re cheap, buy a few. It’s very easy to make homemade chicken soup and it’s so healing and therapeutic(this is also great for new moms who are healing and nursing).   Boil your chicken in a large pot for a couple hours. You’ll need to keep adding water as it boils down. Add an entire chopped onion.  In the last 45 minutes you can add some grated carrots and  diced celery. Then add about a dozen whole peppercorns(you won’t be eating these but they’re great for flavour), sea salt(to taste), 1 whole Star of Anise(found in your whole foods/bulk/spice section), 1 bay leaf.

Boil and then simmer for 1/2 hour. Serve over cooked egg noodles or simply drink the broth. So good and it really does contribute to a faster recovery. Grandma was right!

12. Vapourizer. Every home should have at least one. When you feel that scratchy feeling in your throat, it’s time to humidify. If you don’t have one, put a pot of water on your stove to simmer. You’ll know your house is getting steamy when you can’t see out your windows! This is very important during the dry winter months. A dry throat is a hot-bed for new germs and bacteria to collect.

13.Rest. I know this shouldn’t even be a necessary point but most people don’t take enough time to rest and recover. If your kids are sick, they need to sleep, lay down, and NOT go to school or sports. That perpetuates the cycle of infection and is the number 1 reason why so many young families get hammered with illness.

ooops….almost forgot!! Ventilation! This is a biggie. If you live in a house with sealed doors and windows in the winter , you are essentially living in a microbe-infested petri dish. Ick. Open windows. Go out for a walk. Get fresh air. This is essential every day no matter how sick you are. Stale air will be the reason you get sick(likely) and the reason you stay sick. That’s why so many people get sick when it’s super cold and over the holidays~hanging around in houses with poor ventilation and then not getting enough fresh air once they’re sick to clear the lungs and cobwebs out of their system.

Finally, this is not an exhaustive list. I’m sure you all have other ideas. The most important thing to remember is that a cold and flu are NOT reasons to go the ER or your doctors’ offices unless a temperature over 103*F lasts longer than 24 hours in children or longer than 48 hours for adults. That can indicate a bacterial infection which must be treated.

Common sense dictates that when your body is run down, you are more susceptible to infections so slow down, take it easy, get enough sleep at night and don’t be the hero who has to be involved in every committee and every activity. It’s okay to say no.

I hope everyone stays healthy! This is a bad year for flus so stay strong and fight smart!

A Prayer for Our Teens Writing Finals

I have slightly edited this post from last June where I’m praying for my kids writing finals~it’s all I can do to help them now.

I have  two teens writing finals this week; one who is writing her semester 1 finals for grade 12~she’s nearly done. And I know how completely overwhelming studying,cramming, and writing can be. And so……my mother’s heart is praying for my kids and all of their peers who are writing too.

Dear Lord,

You have given wisdom to those who seek knowledge and you have blessed us with strong, healthy minds that hunger to learn.  Bless my children this day, and this week, as they see the fruits of their labours culminate in the writing of exams that are designed to test their knowledge.

I pray that you would guide them to study those areas most important.  Help them to discern wisely what time they spend on each subject and when it is necessary to put the books away and just rest.

I pray that as they sit at their desks, with pencil in hand, that you would give them pause to breathe, to concentrate and to recall all that they have learned.

Help them to not be flustered or panicked.  Give them sharp minds and clear focus.  Sharpen their memories and give them the right words to lay out on that paper to answer the questions before them.

I pray that you would bless the work of their minds over this past year and that all of their late nights, long projects, boring reading and difficult questioning would not be in vain but that you would multiply what they already know into good marks for solid effort.

Give them peace about finishing and handing in their completed exams , knowing that they did what they were asked to the best of their abilities.  And help them to shake off any concerns or worry so they can focus on the next.

And Lord, bless their summers, that they would be renewed in mind and body and challenged for the next years’ work.

And bless all those who are graduating and writing for the last time.  I pray that they would be filled with humility at all that they have learned and understand that this has been the groundwork laid for what is to come but not the end-all and be-all of their lives.  Bless all that they do~that they would use their gifts, talents and knowledge to bring Glory to Your name and no other.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen.

He Paid a Debt He did Not Owe { When Will it Be Enough}

Yesterday, I shared with you all about my family and where I was born and raised. If you haven’t read it, I encourage you to do so because it will give you some insight into why I care so much about what happens today in Ottawa with the meeting of the Prime Minister and the First Nations leaders.

Prime Minster Stephen Harper and First Nations Leader Sean Atleo

When I was a little girl, growing up on an Indian Reservation in Northern Saskatchewan, we spent our summers at home and for many weeks that included walking up the road to the tabernacle in the bush. Along the path we were sheltered by towering evergreens and through those evergreens, wild Tiger Lilies(or Prairie Lilies as some call them) would grow.  If it sounds pastoral and peaceful, then you have read it correct.  It was.  It was a time within a time. Almost a stopping of time.

The world may have been spinning in darkness but we were suspended in moments of perfection and light.  

If you’ve ever been to an Indian camp meeting you will understand when I say there is no agenda and there are no clocks.  If you haven’t been, do yourself a favour and go this summer~it is a world like no other. Cranked up amplifiers, electric guitars, steel guitar, the smooth vocals of the special speaker and his wife from way down south in Oklahoma.  I mostly fell asleep on my mother’s lap as the hours waned after the children’s Bible stories and games were done. There was only so long that our attention could be held before we were sent back inside to that hot and over-flowing  tabernacle of praise.  And when a song was going well and the 4th verse was over, they’d start it all over again to keep the Spirit moving. One song in particular always plays over in my memory…..

( I found this on YouTube and the memories came flooding back).

Wow that brings back memories. That’s pretty much how we’d sing it. 

” He paid a debt He did not owe; I owed a debt I could not pay…I needed someone to wash my sins away..”

The song is about redemption. And the only way to be free from the burden of sin is for Jesus to take the load. Because there’s no human way possible for us to pay back to God for all of the sin in our lives. 

I thought of that song today because this week there’s a battle going on in our country over native rights and responsibilities.  The players and issues are convoluted and complicated. I can’t possibly address it all here in one blog or even ten.

 To be honest, I don’t know what the answer is.

When identities are wrapped up in treaties that are over 100 years old and the foundation of those treaties is based on the past and simple concepts like land ownership, I throw my hands up and wonder “when will it be enough?”  When will our debt be paid?  I am white, you see. And because I am white, I have to pay a debt that I do not owe but I owe a debt I simply cannot pay.  We are in desperate need of a Saviour here and sadly, the only ‘saviours’ that everyone is looking to are mere men and women who are hardly capable of satisfying the demands. 

Identity.  That’s what this is all about. Who am I? Who are you? Who are we together and who are we apart from each other?  If the only answer is more land, more rights, more money, more schools, more houses, more laws……there will never be enough. 

And so, I’m praying this prayer today. It’s the Prayer of St. Francis and I don’t know of anything more appropriate to pray than this over our leader of the First Nations, Sean Atleo,the Chiefs of Reserves and Settlements,Metis and Inuit leaders and for Governor General David Johnston and also our Prime Minister Stephen Harper.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love.

Where there is injury, pardon.

Where there is doubt, faith.

Where there is despair, hope.

Where there is darkness, light.

Where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,

grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console;

to be understood, as to understand;

to be loved, as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive.

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

The Cowboy and The Indian~ A Story about Family

He shuffled forward, almost like his boots were too big;  they probably were. His body, frail and small after years of health problems. My dad and my uncle flanked him on either side and moved him slowly forward. He reached out his hand and I nearly missed that moment. I quickly grabbed my camera because I knew we were about to witness something special.  Grandma stood and reached out her hand too. And then it happened~barely a whisper but his voice got stronger as he spoke.  A beautiful language I did not understand. Though I didn’t need to.  It was between him and his Maker.  ”The Creator” is what he calls Him.  A blessing from one friend to another.  Tears rolled down my cheek as I listened and watched. And he touched my grandpa’s hands and his face. A final farewell from the Indian to the Cowboy after nearly eight decades of friendship.  I can’t imagine the stories or the adventures these two have shared. Most will never be heard or known by human ears.  For barely two months later, Old Bill went to meet his Maker too. I suspect he was homesick for his friend, The Cowboy.

Everyone has a story.  It doesn’t matter where you’ve come from or where you’ve been.  If matters not if your skin colour is brown, white, black or red. And for my grandpa and his friend Bill, the story is full of love, respect and friendship that stood the test of time and  bypassed all political,racial and economical barriers.  I am glad they aren’t around to see what has become of their people and their country.  Protests and name-calling are dividing families and friendships for nothing more than greed and status.

I was called a racist this week. I was called ignorant and uninformed. Someone told me I couldn’t possibly understand what it is like to grow up on a reservation or have ones rights stripped. If only they knew….

If everyone has a story and we’re all fighting for the same thing, do you want to hear mine? Some people don’t. It seems we’ve come to this moment in history where no one’s story matters except those of one specific race. But how different am I from them?

I grew up living on the threshold of an Indian Reservation on the Alberta Saskatchewan border in the north. Our neighbours were Cree. I don’t remember knowing or understanding anything about the difference between them and me. They were our friends, and our family.  In our home, my mom and dad often had young people around. Some played their guitars, others sang. Dad had moved an old school building onto our property before I was born and that became the meeting house for weddings, potlucks, gatherings, baptisms, Bible studies, and Christmas concerts. In a world where the “Us and Them” mentality decided where you lived and where you didn’t, where you shopped and where you ate, we managed to live harmoniously and obliviously happy for decades. My grandpa pushed bush and built a thriving ranch from nothing. He was a man in tune with the land and all of its resources. A businessman for sure but before that and always thereafter, a lover of life, nature,horses  and the Cree people who he called his friends.  That’s why it’s no surprise really, that his children fell in love with this indigenous people too.

If you’ve lived on the prairies of Canada for any length of time, chances are that you too, have family and friends who call themselves First Nations.  That’s a perplexing label to me. Indian, Metis, First Nations, Aboriginal….whatever you call these people, it doesn’t really matter; they are our neighbours and they are fellow Canadians. This is where I find myself confused and somewhat hurt.  My great-grandparents were either born just prior to coming to Canada or born following the migration of their own parents to Canada.  At what point do I become First Nations?  Doesn’t the idea of “first” mean the place of your birth? The place of your heritage? The place of your family’s beginnings? And what is the beginning? Is the beginning 3 generations back? Or ten?  Does it really matter?

Yesterday the news came out that a high court in Canada had decided that all people of First Nations/Aboriginal/Metis descent , whether living on reserves,settlements or in cities,off reserve or elsewhere would benefit from Indian status. What does this mean? Well, as best as I can tell it means that they can apply and be approved for any funding, health care, privileges that people on reserve are privy to.  Now, as far as the concept goes, I agree. If people on reserves are getting special privileges for their racial background then in all fairness, those of the same race should receive those privileges regardless of where they live. I absolutely 100 % agree with this.  However(and you knew I’d have a big BUT right here),  this is exactly where the system is wrong and broken.  The idea that a group of people, based on race alone, are treated differently than the rest of the country is absolutely offensive to every race, Aboriginals included. This is not equality. This is segregation. And it now muddies the waters of inter-racial  heritage. It also encourages the ongoing labeling of people based on country of ethnic origin which is silly and pointless.

Back to my story…..

My mom’s family, both sides, are Mennonites.  Mennonites from Russia to be precise.  They fled the Ukraine in the late 1870s because of religious persecution.  Some stayed but most left. The Canadian government helped them to get here because the land in southern Manitoba and southern Saskatchewan was uninhabited and the ground needed to be broken and worked. Thousands upon thousands of Mennonites , Ukranians, Irish and Scottish Europeans came over with little idea of what they were about to face. Can you imagine not speaking the language, facing your first prairie winter in little more than a shack for shelter? And the process of homesteading required that the land be lived on for the entire year before land titles were turned over to the owners. I have seen some of these “homes” that could only be called mud huts at best.  But they did it, to be free and to have a hope of a future. This is my family and this is the family of my husband.  In the 1920s the government of Manitoba took over the education of all immigrant children. Up until that time, Mennonites, Hutterites, Ukranians and any other ethnic group were free to educate their children in their mother tongue.  But the Canadian government and provincial and territorial governments of the day decided that English must be taught as well as government approved curriculum. There is a part of me that totally understands the fear and anger that my family must have felt during this time.  They had just become accustomed to a new way of life in a new country and now their rights were being taken away. And so, many fled.  South to Mexico and other points in the US. There is , to this day, a very large community of Mennonites in Mexico and more communities in Bolivia, Paraguay, Brazil and other South American countries.  My great aunt was one who fled and died a short time after, leaving many children without a mother. But I do not blame the government.  I do not advocate for compensation for my family who were persecuted and driven from their homes. (There was a threat of government intervention and children were forced by authorities to attend these schools. It was not optional.)  But that was then and this is now.

In the 1940s following the bombing of Pearl Harbour, there was a mass round up of Japanese Canadians.  They were interned in camps and forced to work in often treachorous conditions. Japanese men were separated from their wives and children and laboured on the Trans Canada Highway that we all now enjoy the freedom to drive. This was less than 70 years ago but you don’t see Japanese Canadians demanding compensation or restitution for the time or property lost(their houses and possessions were sold and they didn’t receive the proceeds).  It was a different time and a different place.  That doesn’t excuse what happened but it is no more Stephen Harper’s fault than it is my own. It is a sad part of our history but it is in the past.  The stories of these people is no less important than that of Aboriginals who were forced into residential schools.

So why does any of this matter? It matters only in the context of each family’s history and story. And all of our stories matter in the context of what Canada is and who we are as Canadians.  Why an aboriginal who is 28 gets more privileges, rights and protection than I , at 41, when we both have been born here, our parents and grandparents and great-grandparents were born, worked, paid taxes here is beyond me.  I get treaties. I understand promises and the shaking of hands. I also understand that the day a treaty was signed in the 1860s  or 1910s it was a very different world than it is today.  No vehicles relying on gas and oil, no homes powered by electricity, no hospitals with NICUs keeping preemies alive long before they ever would have survived in more primitive times.  The leaders of the day shook hands in good faith and they promised in the context of what they knew and what they could imagine only years ahead of where they were.  Not decades and not centuries.  I am Canadian.  My kids are Canadian.  My cousin and brother and sister and aunts and uncles and nephews and nieces are all Canadian.  Some of us have darker skin and some of us are pasty white. But we are still family and we love the land which we came from and which we still hold dear.

A year ago, we laid my grandpa to rest a mile or so from the border of the Indian Reservation where he lived most of his life. I was in the minority at his funeral. As I looked out across that room full of friends and family there were definitely more brown faces than white. And it made me smile. This is how my grandpa would have wanted it:Friends and family all together~Laughing, hugging and sharing stories of times gone by.

My dad and a dear family friend whom I had not seen in many years. I love the smiles and I love these two people.

Old Bill, my Grandpa’s lifelong friend, with help from my Dad and my cousin throws one of the first shovels of dirt onto Grandpa’s casket. A poetic moment I will never forget.

 

 

How do I , a white woman, introduce the brown-faced members of my family?  Like this:

He’s my brother.

My dad and my brother. Love them.

My brother, my cousin and my husband. Three of the handsomest men I know.

She’s my sister.

My sister, and 2 cousins(they’re all about the same age)~ and their dads are all brothers.

 

This is my cousin, whom I love like a brother.

This is my nephew,isn’t he cute?

The last time many of us got to see Grandpa it was a lovely time~family time.

And here’s one of  some of my favourite people in the world.

This is my family.

Me,my sister, my grandma, my aunt and my cousins.

Begin again. {Starting over and a new word for 2013}

The thing about turning over the last page of a calendar is you get to start over.  I love clean pages, empty notebooks, clear calendars.  They beg us to fill them but before that…..pause and just soak in the simplicity of nothing on the page.

January shouldn’t be the excuse or reason to make resolutions or goals, but it is.  Something about this time of year, after all the busyness of Christmas. Too much eating. Too much spending. Too many expectations. Pausing and refocusing on what matters is what makes January such an inviting month for clean slates. And so, I begin again……to think about what this blog is and what it isn’t.

I screw up. A lot. I engage in conversations and debates that I really should walk away from. I’m making big strides in not going there. But every once in a while a topic comes up that pulls me in .  And so, if you read my blog, I may post a recipe or some tips and tricks for kitchen happiness. But then, I might get political.  Isn’t that how it is with friends? We talk about our kids and our work and then we talk weather and sports. And very often we debate and disagree but we always laugh and hug and come back together again.  That’s what this blog is to me. A conversation.  (I wish it wasn’t so one-sided; you all need to comment more!)

I took down our tree yesterday. I packed up those shiny balls and the pinecones.  I smile when I see them~ I will smile again in November when I pull them out from their storage hiding places.

I can’t quite bring myself to take it all down though.  Especially this little nativity set that is so homely and unimpressive. Baby Jesus with His arms open wide is inviting and welcoming.  Joseph, with that chip on his shoulder from years ago. And Mary with her glazed over smile~unaware of what’s to come.

 

I debated whether to continue writing at all. Does it even matter? I had an interesting year(and by interesting I mean awful) last year with my One Word: Redeemed.  I was all excited in January that the Lord might redeem the mess we were in financially and with our house not being sold.  But here we are in January one year later and the finances are worse for wear and the house is not yet sold.  Did anything get redeemed? Or what does that even mean? I’m still working on it. I never will understand or arrive at being redeemed until Jesus returns. If anything was redeemed, it was my attitude….still in process but so much better than it was a year ago.

So what is to be my one word? I pondered and prayed and lamented.  Story? New. Renew?  Maybe Freedom. Ya, that’s a good one.  Mercy, humble, justice, hope, moments…..WRITE.   None of it felt right and none of it encompassed all that I wanted to do.

and then came……………THRIVE.  Yes. That’s what I want.  I don’t want to just live. Or survive.  I want every story, every hope, every dream, every recipe to make me step one inch closer to thriving in all that I do.  And so, that’s it.

My goal this year is to do better tomorrow than I did today.  That’s it.  Losing weight would be nice.  Being debt free would be great. Spending more time in the Word would be awesome.  Making more time for friends~absolutely.  But I’m not going to get hung up on check lists and deadlines.  I just want to do better and do more with what I already have.  And in all of it….THRIVE.

2012 in Pictures ~ Because sometimes,there are no words big enough.

My grandpa’s tender hands. I held them for the last time in January. He was nearly 93 when he died on January 20,2012. I miss him so.

 

 

 

At my grandpa’s grave side~his friend Bill , who would pass away 2 months later, threw on one of the first shovels of dirt. A poignant moment.

Grandma and just about all of her grandkids. This was good for her.

Family fun at Sunshine Village in February.

Dad and son jamming before everyone had to leave for their “temporary homes” .

Lyndon actually let me photograph him. What a miracle.

Leslie working on one of her many masterpieces. This girl has mad talent.

The view of our farm from the road. And a few friends dropped by.

Epic night of aurora borealis in March.

Friends from Ontario~all of us reuniting where our friendship began more than 23 years ago.

Does one ever tire of a prairie sunset?

Saying goodbye…we will meet again!

The girls enjoying one last prairie storm before our big move to the city.

My son’s high school grad~time has flown. (he’s on the far right).

Another night of amazing skies.

“‘Then sings my soul~~ How GREAT Thou art!”

A hazy,hot summer day.

The glory of God I see most in His amazing displays of creation. How can one not believe when you see this?

One last sunset…

Storm clouds followed us as we left the farm…a fitting farewell I think!

” ….I hear the rolling thunder, Thy power throughout the universe displayed. Then sings my soul! “

A lot of kitten chaos~who can resist?

Welcome to Regina!

The perks of living here ~ cousin/friend/adults to share the days with!

Our move tuckered everyone out…particularly this pair!

Our furry little ball of love is growing up.

Lyndon getting some good experience with one of his former teachers on the church worship team.

Finishing out the year with family around! Happy New Year to all!

Confetti Batter Peppermint Sandwich Cookies

I have modified a recipe that I have used for years. It is my go-to cookie recipe for many occasions.

Easiest recipe ever.

You will need for the cookie part:

2 boxes Betty Crocker Confetti Cake Mix

4 eggs

1 cup vegetable/canola oil

 

For the filling:

1 250gr/8oz pkg cream cheese

1/2 cup butter

1/2 cup icing sugar

1-2 tsp peppermint extract

optional: food colouring and coloured sprinkles

 

Preheat oven to 350*F

In a mixing bowl, add both cake mixes, eggs and oil. Use paddle attachment and mix thoroughly; making sure to get all of the mix incorporated.  Drop by spoon fulls OR roll gently into small balls and place on parchment lined baking sheet. Do NOT flatten cookies at this point. They will flatten while baking. The key here is to make them all uniform for even baking.

Put in preheated oven and bake for 8 minutes.  Do not overbake. This is critical. Based on your elevation and oven , baking times may vary. When we were at a higher elevation I would bake for 9 minutes. The size of your cookie will also determine baking time. You want to remove the cookies from the oven when they just begin to crack. The will look unbaked but trust me; overbaking will give you crispy/hard cookies and that is not what we’re looking for here.

Leave on pan for about 5 minutes to settle before moving to a cooling rack.

After about an hour or 2 your cookies will be ready to frost.

Mix the cream cheese, butter and enough sugar to your liking. I go light on the icing sugar as I don’t want it too sweet. The cream cheese balances the sweetness of the cookie nicely.  Add enough peppermint extract also to your liking. I went heavy on it for Christmas treats.

Spread frosting between to similarly sized cookies and then cut the cookie in half. Dip the cut edge into sprinkles.  You may also want to colour your frosting for a more festive presentation.

These cookies passed the taste test of my 16(nearly 17) year old daughter. She would be brutally honest with me if they weren’t good.

These will freeze well for weeks. I leave them out for a day or so but not longer. Keep frozen or refrigerated until a few hours before you plan to serve. Freezing them will actually intensify the flavours.

A great recipe for little time and prep.

**I recommend Betty Crocker cake mixes as they seem to bake up the best. I’ve tried other brands and I’ve been quite disappointed. I have used this recipe for years with Devil’s Food Mix, plain cream cheese(with almond flavouring) or Butter Pecan mix. The possibilities are endless.

But I’ve Heard All that Before~I want to Hear YOUR Story

Last week I was at a women’s Christmas tea.  The ambiance was lovely~dim lighting, white Christmas trees, soft decor.  The tables were clustered and seating was arranged prior so that your host~the one who invited you~ was with you and all of her other invitees.

The theme of the evening was Peace.  Peace at a time of year when many don’t have it, can’t feel it, don’t understand it.

I don’t always feel comfortable in these settings. Yes, I grew up in an organized church. Yes, I’ve even organized functions like this. But sitting in this place, this year, after all that we’ve been through~~ I felt awkward.  And then the speaker for the evening got up to share.  This is the part I was waiting for. I love to hear peoples’ stories.  When someone has struggled and has overcome or is in the process of overcoming….these are the stories I want to hear. My soul longs for the connection between what I know and what I see.  As she began her talk, I leaned in.  And then, I was disappointed.  I had heard it all before.  The story of Mary , Joseph and the shepherds.  I thought perhaps she would move into 2012 and our desire for peace. I was waiting for the hook.  You know, the part where the whole story gets turned upside down and we can all relate.

But that never happened.  The story was read straight from scripture.

Let me interject here and say that I love the Christmas story. I love to hear how Mary was afraid and fled to Elizabeth’s house. I love that Joseph was wary and concerned. I love that these ARE real people and their story is supernaturally linked to mine.  But none of that was said.  Scriptures were read and then she was done.

This entire agenda for the evening~Peace~ was a huge let down.

Now, while you may be chastising and shaking your finger at me for not embracing what it was, I did. I enjoyed the evening for what it was but I was disappointed for what it could have been.

I don’t want to hear the retelling of an age-old story.  I want to hear how THAT STORY has changed YOU.  I want to hear your stories.  Because, at this time of year, more than any other, we all want that Peace. We want HOPE.  We want to know that everything we’re doing isn’t paying lip service to an historical event but rather a living, tangible Person who came in the form of a Baby to be with us in all things and through all things.

 

So, tell me your story. I want to hear from you and what this season is to you. I want to know how hard it is to be festive and jolly when life is hard and has hit you in the gut.  And I want to hear the stories of how God With Us is a resounding theme in your life, when the world is unraveling at the seams.