tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40013695623226194582024-03-05T16:32:58.863-08:00A Joyful LifeJocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.comBlogger576125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-9607164086912305762024-01-03T09:16:00.000-08:002024-01-03T09:18:18.435-08:00Currently: January<p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiettJYTCqR9YZvyCV_a5YbnQlBbWZKVJL-cm2070sjPmL3i7eRcSIgsL8PqswcliAkdU6X6acfpDfhSfALAl2v4MfqxvQG91IDZxYMvvLnyxxCs1lBKRgaXnv4YDtuPOjJ0hXYaWtuyf6NtIsVAzeig5Z1cIyjTfmDMjziKPKhs8YcvEj5i3QsanxI_rL3/s4800/DSC_3298.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4800" data-original-width="3200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiettJYTCqR9YZvyCV_a5YbnQlBbWZKVJL-cm2070sjPmL3i7eRcSIgsL8PqswcliAkdU6X6acfpDfhSfALAl2v4MfqxvQG91IDZxYMvvLnyxxCs1lBKRgaXnv4YDtuPOjJ0hXYaWtuyf6NtIsVAzeig5Z1cIyjTfmDMjziKPKhs8YcvEj5i3QsanxI_rL3/s16000/DSC_3298.JPG" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Enjoying</b></p><p></p><p style="text-align: center;">The slow and unscheduled pace of Christmas Break </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Listening</b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.bing.com/videos/riverview/relatedvideo?q=one+name+jesus+naomi+raine&mid=058D1D819A2F6AFED5E4058D1D819A2F6AFED5E4&FORM=VIRE">One Name (Jesus)</a> by Naomi Raine</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Personal Reading</b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Ordinary-Discipleship-Wires-Adventure-Transformation/dp/1641587326">Ordinary Discipleship: How God Wires Us for the Adventure of a Lifetime</a> by Jessie Cruickshank <span face="Roboto, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: white; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">J</span><span face="Roboto, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: white; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">JessieCruickshank</span><span face="Roboto, Helvetica, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: white; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;">ess</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Norms-Nobility-Education-David-Hicks/dp/0761814671/ref=sr_1_1?crid=27N5O3A80MLHH&keywords=Norms+and+Nobility%3A+A+Treatise+on+Education&qid=1704300505&s=books&sprefix=norms+and+nobility+a+treatise+on+education%2Cstripbooks%2C189&sr=1-1"> Norms and Nobility: A Treatise on Education</a> by David Hicks</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Five-Lies-Our-Anti-Christian-Age/dp/1433573539/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2Z4L90TMYU75S&keywords=Five+Life+of+our+Anti-Christian+Age&qid=1704300747&s=books&sprefix=five+life+of+our+anti-christian+age%2Cstripbooks%2C184&sr=1-1">Five Life of our Anti-Christian Age</a> by Rosiaro Buterfield</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Chronological-Bible-Premium-Slimline-Large/dp/1414337671/ref=sr_1_4?crid=1JMKDV17FYYX&keywords=The+One+Year+Chronological+Bible+%28Currently+in+Genesis%29.&qid=1704300537&s=books&sprefix=the+one+year+chronological+bible+currently+in+genesis+%2Cstripbooks%2C179&sr=1-4">The One Year Chronological Bible (Currently in Genesis).</a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Hide-Your-Children-Exposing-Marxists/dp/168451391X/ref=sr_1_1?crid=25GD8LC0Z07Y8&keywords=Hide+Your+Children%3A+Exposing+Marxists+Behind+the+Attack+on+America%27s+Kids&qid=1704300568&s=books&sprefix=hide+your+children+exposing+marxists+behind+the+attack+on+america%27s+kids%2Cstripbooks%2C198&sr=1-1">Hide Your Children: Exposing Marxists Behind the Attack on America's Kids</a> by Liz Wheeler</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Seed-Bloom-growing-designing-seasonal/dp/1787137341/ref=sr_1_1?crid=10JNB75ZAO6Y3&keywords=From+Seed+to+Bloom%3A+A+year+of+Growing+and+Designing+with+Seasonal+Flowers&qid=1704300687&s=books&sprefix=from+seed+to+bloom+a+year+of+growing+and+designing+with+seasonal+flowers%2Cstripbooks%2C188&sr=1-1">From Seed to Bloom: A year of Growing and Designing with Seasonal Flowers</a> by Milli Proust </p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Reading for Teaching Homeschool Co-op</b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Brightest-Heaven-Invention-Christian-Shakespeare-ebook/dp/B07BZXHQPL/ref=sr_1_1?crid=366LVI3HBMUUW&keywords=Brightest+Heaven+of+Invention%3A+A+Christian+Guide+to+Six+Shakespeare+Play&qid=1704300721&s=books&sprefix=brightest+heaven+of+invention+a+christian+guide+to+six+shakespeare+play%2Cstripbooks%2C325&sr=1-1">Brightest Heaven of Invention: A Christian Guide to Six Shakespeare Play</a>s by Peter Leithart</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Taming-Shrew-William-Shakespeare/dp/074347757X/ref=sr_1_1?crid=TZALO7UHREL0&keywords=The+Taming+of+the+Shrew.&qid=1704300771&s=books&sprefix=the+taming+of+the+shrew+%2Cstripbooks%2C263&sr=1-1">The Taming of the Shrew. </a>- Shakespeare </p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Kill-Mockingbird-Harper-Lee/dp/0446310786/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1OXP3IU4D7GEJ&keywords=To+Kill+a+Mockingbird&qid=1704300846&s=books&sprefix=to+kill+a+mockingbird%2Cstripbooks%2C228&sr=1-1">To Kill a Mockingbird</a> by Harper Lee</p><p style="text-align: center;"> <b>Delighting</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">In learning how to REST. </p><p style="text-align: center;">I thinking I have finally learning how to do this well. It means putting my feet up and reading a great book (even in the middle of the afternoon), taking a walk with my dog through the meadow near our home, journaling, taking long showers, sitting at my vanity when doing skin care in the evenings, going to bed at a reasonable time, and having lengthy conversations with my husband at the table after dinner instead up cleaning up.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Thinking </b></p><p style="text-align: center;">About how to work from home more effectively .</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Currently</b></p><p style="text-align: center;"> De-junking and organizing all the DOOM piles that have been mounting in my home for the past couple of months. I am not very good at dealing with paperwork. Arrrggg. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Learning</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">Shakespeare. There is a reason people are still reading his plays 400 hundred years after his death. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Dreaming </b></p><p style="text-align: center;">About the space I want to create in my garden for my flock of Call and Muscovy Ducks. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Baking</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">Courtney's GF Chewy Ginger Cookies The recipe can be found on her Website: <a href="https://www.strawberrycreamkitchen.ca/blog/gluten-free-chewy-ginger-cookies">Strawberry Cream Kitchen</a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Planning</b></p><p style="text-align: center;"> Semester 2 for my Challenge 1 Students. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Longing </b></p><p style="text-align: center;">For my husband to put up bead board in my kitchen and install a copper pot rail. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-20502788455588921882024-01-01T10:20:00.000-08:002024-01-01T10:31:28.399-08:00Christmas 2023<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><br /></div><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>Happy New year!!!!!<br /><div><br /></div>Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-24243597341653134792023-11-25T20:47:00.000-08:002023-11-25T20:48:32.508-08:00Pausing for a minute<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: center;"> </span><span style="text-align: center;">S</span><span style="text-align: center;">ometimes in the whirlwind of life, I pause long enough to catch glimpses of beauty, growth </span><span style="text-align: center;"> </span><span style="text-align: center;">and </span><span style="text-align: center;">progress. I try to stop and luxuriate in the sweetness of it before the next demand on my time brings me back to whatever task is at hand. Here are a few throwback photos from this summer that melt my heart like butter. </span></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkZhfSDhKDL-Qf1-9So0fx85bHxdWsA0MCtRjeTC6MZt9z5yM6z9JzUApeuxkF63IMcuHF85Fbtyz5T5Tx6fzyMBPzqjBDo-GwPvQVc0nZgG6xKdqM11QmD3hipyJuKzrZ756BO3HARHQ8vz0BxAZ0dpui9yIXOOuhbDl18fvANwRbEGNWi61ihJ70KEip/s4800/DSC_9530.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkZhfSDhKDL-Qf1-9So0fx85bHxdWsA0MCtRjeTC6MZt9z5yM6z9JzUApeuxkF63IMcuHF85Fbtyz5T5Tx6fzyMBPzqjBDo-GwPvQVc0nZgG6xKdqM11QmD3hipyJuKzrZ756BO3HARHQ8vz0BxAZ0dpui9yIXOOuhbDl18fvANwRbEGNWi61ihJ70KEip/w640-h426/DSC_9530.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpFb0rF63jqLwCyt-apOEtmNAirNyL6rumLcJ_quG_lWhKHcGqPE5beCT-XUi_qnnxreQGatMUJuqBwR4Hn5ykvoWboYGsC6xH6zcYB04CuFSholeU2YNw6otzjSRuwYHm1YVZuYPDOQv6WOnL8LW_aH3gASMVriS60413UwK1Szx7veN29qfYeLugBbig/s4800/DSC_9526.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpFb0rF63jqLwCyt-apOEtmNAirNyL6rumLcJ_quG_lWhKHcGqPE5beCT-XUi_qnnxreQGatMUJuqBwR4Hn5ykvoWboYGsC6xH6zcYB04CuFSholeU2YNw6otzjSRuwYHm1YVZuYPDOQv6WOnL8LW_aH3gASMVriS60413UwK1Szx7veN29qfYeLugBbig/w640-h426/DSC_9526.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju4NKMVZ2SYYDykiO_KFW6izpdRGqng89gCJeoeNasEHqp9SKfwcuIy0cTQ1Ic1MZakmfVG6YfDIX54Z_6rQPLpE1IoYuabfIKaZh6b8vUw0MIDS_Ubn8ZPrqqz_dgGwlsh4hNWF5RstCv2zB-hIhdu4qY3d4sL2_Tjttq3lDcdws8JULn_O59dgdTSO6r/s4800/DSC_1530.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4800" data-original-width="3200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju4NKMVZ2SYYDykiO_KFW6izpdRGqng89gCJeoeNasEHqp9SKfwcuIy0cTQ1Ic1MZakmfVG6YfDIX54Z_6rQPLpE1IoYuabfIKaZh6b8vUw0MIDS_Ubn8ZPrqqz_dgGwlsh4hNWF5RstCv2zB-hIhdu4qY3d4sL2_Tjttq3lDcdws8JULn_O59dgdTSO6r/w426-h640/DSC_1530.JPG" width="426" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHsts0FO_21QURTgLKHz2H9vhRue3ySA4bYK6hzkQKwlxtFA2OAAaDkvGKspebeD6Z56VWSEX2ZEhfsIzdSAqrMefJQrISlpsz_wQ1xzvsfcEqT1AYzh9f8xBASEMf2mhhklZH8bs4pmdYuV0naU09lSaA9hE8knJVjGPn3kjcPImMEB_B9DVzQ6-i5cq9/s4800/DSC_1629.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4800" data-original-width="3200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHsts0FO_21QURTgLKHz2H9vhRue3ySA4bYK6hzkQKwlxtFA2OAAaDkvGKspebeD6Z56VWSEX2ZEhfsIzdSAqrMefJQrISlpsz_wQ1xzvsfcEqT1AYzh9f8xBASEMf2mhhklZH8bs4pmdYuV0naU09lSaA9hE8knJVjGPn3kjcPImMEB_B9DVzQ6-i5cq9/w426-h640/DSC_1629.JPG" width="426" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3qrv6cYeSsKkaYX1ogRJGfj75eAg3JxoYOIf_ZpDEh1uWCE9hZyhx6GJhQb5q7R9b0j-DyIRPQm5AuHgUC1NVtOM5VWpfLeneslO5hWQAckbGrJzkwdwFvbl3ZonbwRbjfh4dgjRlc46Xi4Dwto0SjjaQlYXfW0w_wQIzWT3SUWtb0zTqAbKpxQhTEbcf/s4800/DSC_1650.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3qrv6cYeSsKkaYX1ogRJGfj75eAg3JxoYOIf_ZpDEh1uWCE9hZyhx6GJhQb5q7R9b0j-DyIRPQm5AuHgUC1NVtOM5VWpfLeneslO5hWQAckbGrJzkwdwFvbl3ZonbwRbjfh4dgjRlc46Xi4Dwto0SjjaQlYXfW0w_wQIzWT3SUWtb0zTqAbKpxQhTEbcf/w640-h426/DSC_1650.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJLOUzf-Ht1sV0of8KXOV4XYvusWVd6mY-AaDo-AKQG1R5XNiquecfBLhJDZRYxEMOgH6kyb1cWX7WZS2y14i5OWdbRSUxx-KFBCF109Y_FRGag7sN2ivFil97MaBEW4KKMHK1JU_p_i3aHXgvBezajmnY1IhzNSxpiMqb2veF0XGAuf7wRxREnQNFS25/s4800/DSC_1652.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJLOUzf-Ht1sV0of8KXOV4XYvusWVd6mY-AaDo-AKQG1R5XNiquecfBLhJDZRYxEMOgH6kyb1cWX7WZS2y14i5OWdbRSUxx-KFBCF109Y_FRGag7sN2ivFil97MaBEW4KKMHK1JU_p_i3aHXgvBezajmnY1IhzNSxpiMqb2veF0XGAuf7wRxREnQNFS25/w640-h426/DSC_1652.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgumdpeFYygJnGRrt93ANHBdhZFL-FeVBy0TBiN8MQqYHZKMoyKWjiI8kqp7hA5AwtZnCJsGzKF9XU_VLXpA-fO6k-i6E-kWLcRQf1TjIJr66Y0uKfM6qSUUujhdkfeGb6zadqT8PHYYVA8Q6C8dwyXHo1e5DlhNQWGlXABVCw3o2raSen2sEfYA1gLbhjb/s4800/DSC_1665.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgumdpeFYygJnGRrt93ANHBdhZFL-FeVBy0TBiN8MQqYHZKMoyKWjiI8kqp7hA5AwtZnCJsGzKF9XU_VLXpA-fO6k-i6E-kWLcRQf1TjIJr66Y0uKfM6qSUUujhdkfeGb6zadqT8PHYYVA8Q6C8dwyXHo1e5DlhNQWGlXABVCw3o2raSen2sEfYA1gLbhjb/w640-h426/DSC_1665.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZ2hBS2B_ExPVRAzbJS0OK3ezy1W3zAUcq9fsTBlYFLJePCL9wY7a8Ve3dRJc2KwELxHt1tLM1qV6ucorlvrGk97vpsrrPaoviGAyV09o03xv3ycdDMnhwQ4IP8ZMv9FVy64_TB7Wf3qW4OVPwsQyXoWglujwwSrESu5wmp-fa5WvKJmrSL-pcezjzPAB/s4800/DSC_1677.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZ2hBS2B_ExPVRAzbJS0OK3ezy1W3zAUcq9fsTBlYFLJePCL9wY7a8Ve3dRJc2KwELxHt1tLM1qV6ucorlvrGk97vpsrrPaoviGAyV09o03xv3ycdDMnhwQ4IP8ZMv9FVy64_TB7Wf3qW4OVPwsQyXoWglujwwSrESu5wmp-fa5WvKJmrSL-pcezjzPAB/w640-h426/DSC_1677.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiioQp5NqFUjXwA6mqyn6ZTBgVNO-aOVpH3_1hiojv2HC7H6myeTA3fPp68mxN1W8bR3MwSrMCstraYbhOdLPZw3QLsl6ucEV_e_xmycd-O1iy12PHA_uOYevIQU86dpAPtkoyOSeOjvP8JP8Shq5CvQCdRNi-HHLCY9YQlqAySCUQkupEwyEOP3CuCvQDG/s4800/DSC_1678.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4800" data-original-width="3200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiioQp5NqFUjXwA6mqyn6ZTBgVNO-aOVpH3_1hiojv2HC7H6myeTA3fPp68mxN1W8bR3MwSrMCstraYbhOdLPZw3QLsl6ucEV_e_xmycd-O1iy12PHA_uOYevIQU86dpAPtkoyOSeOjvP8JP8Shq5CvQCdRNi-HHLCY9YQlqAySCUQkupEwyEOP3CuCvQDG/w426-h640/DSC_1678.JPG" width="426" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZRglVE_3LdAvzz-fV_fkAmJnc7RUaDiX_p9t0bgvPJ7KKIt1OEGHtB-HrYUBEId-birih57gpfFjqNP-IbfrRXnhdH2vXvXSRq61Jq1d4D07sQg58foj9hyphenhyphengc8aWCOoEtvt18aiQ9uODHXJJofuTJU5EN9ZR2DRVdr3mQjN1u8iYPPkOJMZBodPy-Imxz/s4800/DSC_1722.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4800" data-original-width="3200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZRglVE_3LdAvzz-fV_fkAmJnc7RUaDiX_p9t0bgvPJ7KKIt1OEGHtB-HrYUBEId-birih57gpfFjqNP-IbfrRXnhdH2vXvXSRq61Jq1d4D07sQg58foj9hyphenhyphengc8aWCOoEtvt18aiQ9uODHXJJofuTJU5EN9ZR2DRVdr3mQjN1u8iYPPkOJMZBodPy-Imxz/w426-h640/DSC_1722.JPG" width="426" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhGee95Cxv4tzgKcwrK2r8L6t6Ex8tcnNOUfOTn6TpyFdQmZIex8bQDgznVkhTnB-dMpl2RxpL2tn50cnzFJX66SGI8pCZQ8n8HN4z2JnTXEBGt1V7sDiFaki-NumyYY-m1eocTF31D5KUli0q27gAvqQkka1KtMd3R5DDTFhlmLTAZNn1nhEY_fl2zmyV/s4800/DSC_1728.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4800" data-original-width="3200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhGee95Cxv4tzgKcwrK2r8L6t6Ex8tcnNOUfOTn6TpyFdQmZIex8bQDgznVkhTnB-dMpl2RxpL2tn50cnzFJX66SGI8pCZQ8n8HN4z2JnTXEBGt1V7sDiFaki-NumyYY-m1eocTF31D5KUli0q27gAvqQkka1KtMd3R5DDTFhlmLTAZNn1nhEY_fl2zmyV/w426-h640/DSC_1728.JPG" width="426" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-89239721845842036002023-11-07T06:49:00.009-08:002023-11-09T08:01:26.420-08:00This Bouquet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNURaji_b2bTDyUKJS6NiHqmdvWWO5lqDwvspfv7DOfWVLDmR6W_5z3Ry_gAupsd9JFSBbcAeddvPc4GAdyT_MHTu0H9BcXDmXPfnLrSBrMpwwYHmqcoTXeSjzzdcUBZzTZM9kLAvTQwx1G-5OHTRBkNyNVEBwSk_sW4CYkVPT-DcAvxScNyzjhGNN1zI8/s4800/DSC_3123.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNURaji_b2bTDyUKJS6NiHqmdvWWO5lqDwvspfv7DOfWVLDmR6W_5z3Ry_gAupsd9JFSBbcAeddvPc4GAdyT_MHTu0H9BcXDmXPfnLrSBrMpwwYHmqcoTXeSjzzdcUBZzTZM9kLAvTQwx1G-5OHTRBkNyNVEBwSk_sW4CYkVPT-DcAvxScNyzjhGNN1zI8/w640-h427/DSC_3123.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">This bouquet whispers to me about courage, victory and overcoming defeat. It challenges me to persevere, grow, and believe. It reminds me that it takes time to cultivate beauty and that beauty is a worthy pursuit.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;">Last winter I when started sighing over seed catalogues and sobbed over the loss of yet another box of dahlia tubers that didn't make it through the winter, I considered giving up on what felt like a frivolous pursuit. I questioned my ability to keep up with seed trays and a planting schedule in light of many more pressing demands on my time and energy. And yet, I didn't. Instead I bought MORE seed trays, MORE dahlia tubers and carefully organized my seeds so that I knew exactly what needed to be planted where and when. I drew up garden plans according to sunlight requirements and purchased a ten year garden journal from Lee Valley to document my journey. I hurled myself into gardening with fervor, planting a whole garden bed of dahlias from seed. I carefully potted up hundreds of snapdragons with a toothpick, presoaked sweet peas and carefully nurtured hundreds of seedlings all the while believing that I was insane to do so. I knew that there was no guarantee that it would<span style="text-align: left;"> amount to anything, and yet I pushed past this doubt because my soul longs for beauty as well as the thrill of imagining something and bringing it to fruition.</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></p><p style="text-align: center;">Each time I gathered an armload of tall, luscious, multi-hued blooms I would find myself musing -"what else can I cultivate"? What else could I succeed at? What else am I pouring my time and energy into that would produce so much loveliness. For me the obvious answer is my children. Like those tedious snapdragons that took forever to amount to anything, I am beginning to see growth and beauty in areas of my children's lives that has taken YEARS to nurture. Choosing to be home and labor alongside them in their formative years has not been an easy choice and there are days where my heart aches for other pursuits, but when I look at the fruit of my decision, I am overcome with gratitude that I have stuck with it. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-82328657776363175522023-04-27T07:46:00.034-07:002023-04-27T08:18:10.774-07:00Currently: April<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrTFE4wfc-zsxMw9gtaoVWfnE_AjpUF4tSYxonI6pb_LzQp1H9Nq1XzqnQn2EqSn2eYEISB5fXcdOkDqvG-1iZ6A8lI-tNAi4pVHR2JGFlf1L7xH0nEdFE4q0KGzYtUxlaJ3_QmrEG6VhirK7XpcLQgLUiyq97ZKgus-PbVjf8kN1_zRkt08_L52zVnA/s4800/DSC_8592.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrTFE4wfc-zsxMw9gtaoVWfnE_AjpUF4tSYxonI6pb_LzQp1H9Nq1XzqnQn2EqSn2eYEISB5fXcdOkDqvG-1iZ6A8lI-tNAi4pVHR2JGFlf1L7xH0nEdFE4q0KGzYtUxlaJ3_QmrEG6VhirK7XpcLQgLUiyq97ZKgus-PbVjf8kN1_zRkt08_L52zVnA/w640-h426/DSC_8592.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>Enjoying</b></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;">When my children bring me handmade cards, un-solicited head rubs and a hot cups of tea. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b style="text-align: center;">Listening</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">To <a href="https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=just+like+heaven+by+brandon+lake&docid=603504237249370883&mid=AFC7214BC3B9639894B0AFC7214BC3B9639894B0&view=detail&FORM=VIRE">"Just Like Heaven"</a> by Brandon Lake on repeat. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Reading</b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.ca/s?k=The+Question+by+leigh+a+bortins&i=stripbooks&crid=3R9XO4UXLNSU&sprefix=the+question+by+leigh+a+bortins%2Cstripbooks%2C130&ref=nb_sb_noss">The Question</a> by Leigh A Bortins</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Contemplating</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">Becoming a director for Classical Conversations. I have been asked to be the "lead learner" for the Grade nine class. Gulp! It would require a great deal of planning and intention. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Delighting</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">All the tulips, fritillaria, and daffodils that I planted in the fall are unfolding and bringing a burst of color to the verdant sea of green in my yard.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Thinking </b></p><p style="text-align: center;">About where I would like to go on my 20th anniversary trip with my husband. We have been saving points for this trip for a long time. The options are endless and overwhelming. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Currently</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">Potting up the dahlia's I grew from seed and hopefully sowing some amaranth seeds today. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Learning</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">About Indigenous people across Canada with my children. They have loved making pemmican, learning how to weave and building wigwams and other traditional structure on our property. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Reading </b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Calm-My-Anxious-Heart-Contentment/dp/1641583002/ref=pd_bxgy_img_sccl_1/136-1335579-9198452?pd_rd_w=4KBuV&content-id=amzn1.sym.93ae3f3f-3555-4971-a952-df8053b1d375&pf_rd_p=93ae3f3f-3555-4971-a952-df8053b1d375&pf_rd_r=K2A00595T718TSRKGV0M&pd_rd_wg=a3UUJ&pd_rd_r=9af97f43-64a3-41fa-86e9-2fba788b8a76&pd_rd_i=1641583002&psc=1">Calm my Anxious Heart</a> by Linda Dillow. I would highly recommend this book if you struggle with anxiety. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Dreaming </b></p><p style="text-align: center;">Of rows upon rows of sunflowers, cosmos and dahlias. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Baking</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">Sourdough bread</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Planning</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">My garden maps and making lists of curriculum to order for next year. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Longing </b></p><p style="text-align: center;">To spend an entire day in my garden planting out all the seedlings that have taken over my boot room. .</p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-21999581673096974402023-01-22T08:10:00.013-08:002023-01-22T08:12:45.844-08:00Garden House<p> This is a post I wrote last June but I never posted it. How I long for the green that Spring brings! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVCzXOcPEFUHX46arUK-Si17wtShPq1-49leL2MF9s9Gfg24Nb57na_9LoEz5eXC8KdZmF5SmzcJSB0Jd47D3OP772k1unkk8x-pDnOEbtofkd1yVi5QOuYbpU_o4OtevF2PuxojdGHS8yv4mO-4R7FxWkHLyTthuTi42z6o34vMF4mLfzOqh4WoI-A/s4800/DSC_4594.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVCzXOcPEFUHX46arUK-Si17wtShPq1-49leL2MF9s9Gfg24Nb57na_9LoEz5eXC8KdZmF5SmzcJSB0Jd47D3OP772k1unkk8x-pDnOEbtofkd1yVi5QOuYbpU_o4OtevF2PuxojdGHS8yv4mO-4R7FxWkHLyTthuTi42z6o34vMF4mLfzOqh4WoI-A/s16000/DSC_4594.JPG" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">This morning I stumbled out of my bed at 5:30 and started the kettle, not so that I could enjoy a cup of tea, but rather to warm up goat milk for an orphaned fawn. It would seem, that in this particular season of my life, I am learning and re-learning how to adjust to every changing demand of life. Sometimes it feels as though those demands will crush me, however, I want to believe that they are refining and helping me prioritize better. The truth is, while my character is undoubtedly being shaped, many things are being cast to the wayside: like cleaning my home, doing laundry, working out, and carving out time to read in the morning. What, you may ask, is taking precedence in my life other than keeping a fawn and a small herd of children alive? The answer is gardening. It consumes the majority of my waking thoughts. It's all I want to do. |I wish I could say that I was devoting my energy to finishing our homeschool year strong, as we only have a mere four weeks left, but the truth is, we are doing the bare minimum and enjoying every available moment outdoors. Needless to say, my house is in shambles. There is a name for this condition; my friends over a </span><a href="https://homemakerchicpodcast.com/" style="text-align: left;">Homemaker Chic</a><span style="text-align: left;"> podcast lovingly refer to it as "garden house". Essentially, you are spending so much time out of doors raking, sewing seeds, transplanting, watering, and scheming where to plant things that everything else in your life is put on the back burner. You have chronically dirty fingernails, dirty floors, and mountains of dishes. It's all about priorities and we all only have 24 hours in each day. When I am not gardening we are saying "yes" to all the people. Sometimes at the same time. I can't tell you how many times I have parked a guest on a chair in my garden so that I could visit while I gardened. I call it "productive visiting". I intend to have a really tidy and clean house this fall when the ground is covered with frost and decaying leaves but right now everything is bursting with life and beauty and I want to soak up every blessed moment. </span></div><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3atjxiB8WdBwSl-SUnuvpxI29hcs9b53kaYETTm5QQbqHQtButmUWulQ00wOAk2EpiN2S5uzS4KawcvEV7Cd2c_jezKNr4LFRnsPYAOtpsZ15l7m5iktM9Qtf3-9IsZ_oKyWxrhfr5S67IJ12DEdozhWcPp5mee-k6uXL2WfdEm5cPulWNOiruofvvQ/s4800/DSC_4463.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3atjxiB8WdBwSl-SUnuvpxI29hcs9b53kaYETTm5QQbqHQtButmUWulQ00wOAk2EpiN2S5uzS4KawcvEV7Cd2c_jezKNr4LFRnsPYAOtpsZ15l7m5iktM9Qtf3-9IsZ_oKyWxrhfr5S67IJ12DEdozhWcPp5mee-k6uXL2WfdEm5cPulWNOiruofvvQ/s16000/DSC_4463.JPG" /></a></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieFWfAmGf857lxvyB9e5incgalJEcyfK_Gtld9ISeaxruexXyXWx8-oJyv4CVxLLtj_Y6oEdfkPFNTdIL38uqb3IhexHXuRLjXWiTqj3k8xasQL2zBUNxbV1UTAW1iu0FGh5rZexRQhquv7-ZJZmHQFAQ6Hrjg2d8J4sn8pla4wZrhJzZaJHap6BxJjw/s4800/DSC_4454.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieFWfAmGf857lxvyB9e5incgalJEcyfK_Gtld9ISeaxruexXyXWx8-oJyv4CVxLLtj_Y6oEdfkPFNTdIL38uqb3IhexHXuRLjXWiTqj3k8xasQL2zBUNxbV1UTAW1iu0FGh5rZexRQhquv7-ZJZmHQFAQ6Hrjg2d8J4sn8pla4wZrhJzZaJHap6BxJjw/s16000/DSC_4454.JPG" /></a></p><p><br /></p>Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-50909697673025962462023-01-21T12:21:00.008-08:002023-01-21T12:50:36.936-08:00Setting aside time to write<p>I am setting aside two mornings per week to write. Something deep inside me needs an outlet for expression, not just because I live a fairly isolated existence but also because my children are not yet riveting conversationalists. I long to share my heart and its musings in a meaningful way. I suppose it is a therapy of sorts, an unraveling of the spaghetti that is my brain. </p><p>I love reading works of literature that invite the reader into the inner dialogue of its author. It's like climbing into people's minds to understand how they arrive at their various conclusions. Some of my recent favorites include <span style="color: #ea9999;"><a href="https://rosariabutterfield.com/secret-thoughts-of-an-unlikely-convert"><span style="color: #ea9999;">The Secrets Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert</span></a><u>: An English Professor's Journey into Christian Faith"</u> </span> by Rosaria Butterfield. I also recently enjoyed The<span style="color: #ea9999;"> <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2967752-the-elegance-of-the-hedgehog"><span style="color: #ea9999;">Elegance of the Hedgehog</span></a></span> by Murial Barbery and <span style="color: #ea9999;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Truth-Beauty-Englands-Greatest-Understanding/dp/0310364612"><span style="color: #ea9999;">The Truth and Beauty: How the Lives and Works of England's Greatest Poets Point the Way to a Deeper Understanding of the Words of Jesus</span></a> </span>by Andrew Klaven. </p><p>Both reading and writing are an invitation to contemplation and to wrestling with ideas. Truthfully, I have felt a little exhausted wrestling with ideas the past two years, particularly in light of all the conflicting information that has steamed rolled my direction. I find myself struggling with the temptation not to think, but rather to stuff every waking moment with someone else's thoughts and opinions on a particular matter. Some of the content I consume is incredibly encouraging, insightful, and motivating but some of it is complete drivel.</p><p>It's unhealthy and I am making a concerted effort to invite silence back into my life. Often that looks like sitting in my bay window with a hot cup of tea in the afternoon, just relishing the view. In doing so I find myself more refreshed than I would have if I had spent that time scrolling through Instagram. </p><p>Over the past two years, I have had an uncanny aversion to writing. Even journaling has taken a back seat. I think perhaps, I am afraid to feel the weight of my emotions and instead, have used podcasts and other diversions to avoid having to sit with my emotions. I know that it is unhealthy and I am making a concerted effort that change that.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98CdO-n8H799sK8QWJD2wAggzF-f-BNc1v6iNLDiefbjbVM4IvVe6mOI1QLQyST4J5ja4tzFCIkNRTiOhQieUZOTswrLPhTMPtbCJQaez3k3D9x5A3hH6GSmY0Fwyp82Z12e5zkgLu5QsPPtlFQWkUxHtAaz1GoRChyyjn7aHXdxc0Q0T694dD632EA/s4800/DSC_7412.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4800" data-original-width="3200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98CdO-n8H799sK8QWJD2wAggzF-f-BNc1v6iNLDiefbjbVM4IvVe6mOI1QLQyST4J5ja4tzFCIkNRTiOhQieUZOTswrLPhTMPtbCJQaez3k3D9x5A3hH6GSmY0Fwyp82Z12e5zkgLu5QsPPtlFQWkUxHtAaz1GoRChyyjn7aHXdxc0Q0T694dD632EA/s16000/DSC_7412.JPG" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p>Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-46421645472507914232022-09-07T07:13:00.012-07:002023-01-22T08:20:43.774-08:00Currently: September<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2T1I7CUqE5G7h0Br132nTx1o92aEN_XrEZBLxTdUr3s5P-c880jlCRGL4RDU3i75PNGpYT2aXejhNAmnS-48ywfaumdFqGMhk9lYlmYVTjpogJlRjgFlgY-XgUl_jrII49NwZikIbZgRv0GJBJZdlSK5ucg6X6JXI6HI3EtuJMRobnVV_hRioOcKe3A/s4800/DSC_5874.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2T1I7CUqE5G7h0Br132nTx1o92aEN_XrEZBLxTdUr3s5P-c880jlCRGL4RDU3i75PNGpYT2aXejhNAmnS-48ywfaumdFqGMhk9lYlmYVTjpogJlRjgFlgY-XgUl_jrII49NwZikIbZgRv0GJBJZdlSK5ucg6X6JXI6HI3EtuJMRobnVV_hRioOcKe3A/s16000/DSC_5874.JPG" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b> Listening</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">To Patrick Mayberry song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KoTNHiFq0p0">"Holy Spirit Come"</a>.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Reading </b></p><p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://classicalconversationsbooks.com/products/as051"> The Question: Teaching your child the essentials of Classical Education</a> by Leigh A Bortins <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/14652699-the-psalms-poetry-on-fire"> The Psalms: Poetry on Fire</a> by the Passion Translation <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Created-His-Help-Meet-Discover/dp/1892112604">Created To be His Help Meet: Discover how God can make your marriage glorious</a> by Debi Pearl <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Ways-Destroy-Imagination-Your-Child/dp/1610170792">Ten Ways to Destroy the Imagination of your Child</a> by Anthony Esolen <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Can-Be-Done-Poems-Inspiration/dp/1374894214">It Can Be Done: Poems of Inspiration</a> by Joseph Morris and St Clair Adams</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Thinking</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">about the philosophy of classical education, how to plan my days better and how <a href="https://www.inspirethemom.com/a-beginners-guide-to-loop-scheduling/#:~:text=%20How%20to%20Create%20a%20Loop%20Schedule%20,after%20lunch%2C%20you%20complete%20two%20subjects...%20More%20">LOOP subjects</a> during our home-schooling week. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Learning</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">How to be a better wife to my husband </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Memorizing</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">Psalm 119:33-40 with my children</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Dreaming</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">About frosty mornings and crackling fires</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Baking</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">At least 1-2 sourdough loaves a week</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Planning</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">Out my month in advance. This means blocking out certain parts of my day for specific activities like working out, writing, gardening and being hospitable. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Longing</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">For proper fencing to keep our curious goats contained. They are stripping bark of our trees, raking their horns on our lilac buses and nibbling our bamboo to oblivion. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Eating</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">Lots of croissant sandwiches with homemade bacon, freshly picked cherry tomatoes and asiago cheese. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Contemplating</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">Creating my own YouTube channel and asking Amelia to teach me how to edit film<b> </b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Ordering</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">Heap and heaps of books. I have a long list of books on my kindle that I read though the pandemic that I would like to have in hard copy. Namely <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/How-Should-We-Then-Live/dp/1581345364">"How Shall We Then Live" </a>by Fracis A. Shaeffer and <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/s?k=%22Live+Not+by+Lies%3A+A+Manuel+for+Christian+Dissidents%22&i=stripbooks&crid=1GX1BRUCLP430&sprefix=live+not+by+lies+a+manuel+for+christian+dissidents+%2Cstripbooks%2C129&ref=nb_sb_noss">"Live Not by Lies: A Manuel for Christian Dissidents" </a>by Rod Dreher. So worth reading, underlining and bookmarking. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Trying</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">To work out four days a week. My shoulder is finally allowing me to do let downs and my back is permitting deadlifts and squats. Hallelujah!</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Watching</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">The new "Rings of Power" on Amazon Prime. Unfortunately, it bears little resemblance to Tolkien's work and doesn't hold a candle to the "Lord of Rings" trilogy. Booo</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Aspiring </b></p><p style="text-align: center;">To verbally appreciate my husband more</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Appreciating</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">How diligent my daughter is at doing her schoolwork. She is so motivated to keep up with her peers at <a href="https://simplehomeschool.net/classical-conversations-an-introduction/#:~:text=Classical%20Conversations%20is%20a%20nation-wide%20program%20that%20helps,lead%20small%20classes%20of%20children%20in%20weekly%20meetings.">Classical Conversations</a> and eagerly looks forward to community classes on Friday. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Wearing</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">My green safari style, button up dress with leather moccasins and a vintage jean jacket from a friend. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Working </b></p><p style="text-align: center;">On wainscoting a half wall in my basement. I have all the necessary materials, I just need some time and inspiration to get it done. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Rejoicing</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">That I managed to put in my fall/winter garden last week. I planted three kinds of kale, beets, swiss chard, rosemary, stevia, lettuce, sugar snap peas and leeks. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Preserving</b></p><p style="text-align: center;"> I am proud of the fact that I have processing produce from our garden on a regular basis. I have grated heaps of zucchini for the freezer, made numerous Greek salads from our cucumbers and cherry tomatoes and recently canned tomato sauce and pickles with my hubby. We have picked a ton of blackberries and look forward to making jelly with them. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-10480494346663711172022-04-21T08:15:00.000-07:002022-04-21T08:15:07.782-07:00Multicultural Upbringing. <div style="text-align: center;">Lately I have been reflecting on my multicultural upbringing. It feels strange to say that, given that I grew up in a small, isolated community on the west Coast of B.C. However, the combination of a deep sea port and sawmill drew a diverse population of immigrant families to our community. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFlAgDq5JMxwcXJ7v5KoXUsJf0OHGdxMVmbWkaW1sQ9Gts5RFrif95SG_3XD3mE-I-x3cckiJ_L3zN9HmMIef28CdHky4nrMbGlrHhyqusoHD0Yj2Vu1Ym1bmqXEGCjGsAwYYKCGxYNkBl/s800/inlet.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="491" data-original-width="800" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFlAgDq5JMxwcXJ7v5KoXUsJf0OHGdxMVmbWkaW1sQ9Gts5RFrif95SG_3XD3mE-I-x3cckiJ_L3zN9HmMIef28CdHky4nrMbGlrHhyqusoHD0Yj2Vu1Ym1bmqXEGCjGsAwYYKCGxYNkBl/w640-h392/inlet.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">While we were not poor, our family lived in a singlewide trailer. My dad firmly believed that it was important to live within our means and remain debt free. As a child I had no idea that living in a trailer park had negative stereotypes. All I knew, is that I lived at the foot of a mountain and that the forest and the rivers that lay beyond were mine for the exploring. My world consisted of building forts, exploring rivers, leaping off our local dock into the cold ocean, exploring caves, exploring our inlet in our skiff, and riding my bike with the other neighbourhood children. Our living room window looked out on a incredible mountain vista. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEIvrU3WP_XYPWWfRzZ8LyUg7AhY9YREFb1PqTVYrPejIVm6O26XzA9SkbS4EQaEARjWLbXLnM4x8A7tZbqaveQHx7K1pbdpw5TdRgftPa8uP6PbNq1MHNMfrgnk4vAvWi8lJ344G08klw/s1600/rugged+2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEIvrU3WP_XYPWWfRzZ8LyUg7AhY9YREFb1PqTVYrPejIVm6O26XzA9SkbS4EQaEARjWLbXLnM4x8A7tZbqaveQHx7K1pbdpw5TdRgftPa8uP6PbNq1MHNMfrgnk4vAvWi8lJ344G08klw/w640-h426/rugged+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;">It was not uncommon to see up to ten eagles perched on a nearby snag or witness black bear wrangling our garbage bin. Many mornings we had to bang pots and pans to scare them away so that we could access our bicycles. </div></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We were blessed to be surrounded by families of Asian, Punjabi, Italian, Polish, German, Russian and Yugoslavian descent. It was in this tiny village that my fascination with other cultures and religions began. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I remember one particular Russian family who invited us over for steaming bowls of Borsht, which we ate with tiny, painted wooden spoons. Borst became one of our families favorite dishes and I secretly loved grossing out my schoolmates out when I opened my thermos at lunchtime. They thought my favorite soup looked like eyeballs soaked in blood. They had no idea what they were missing out on. Their father played bag pipes in his yard- a sound shook my bones. Our Ukrainian neighbour introduced us to Ukrainian eggs and it has since become a tradition to paint them each Easter - a painstaking operation that my husband has much more patience for than I do. Two of my closest, neighborhood playmates were Punjabi. I still remember the way their long, thick braids would bounce on their backs as we ran around other trailers in our neighbourhood. I easily recall the incredible aroma of curry that would waft out their home when I would stopped by to pick them up for our daily trot to school. Our family had the pleasure of being welcomed into many Punjabi families lives and they kindly taught my mother how to make roti, pakora and samosa. To our great pleasure, it became regular fare at our dinner table. After school I would sometimes visit my Indian aunties and they would feed me warm, buttery roti filled with brown sugar. I remember watching their strong, deft fingers expertly reach into the hot pans and flip the flatbread at just the right moment. It was magical. Many years later I got to sit with Muslim women in Zanzibar and watch them prepare something similar in the streets for their children. I wanted time to stop. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> My mom enjoyed a close friendship with a woman of Chinese descent and it was in her home that I was introduced to egg rolls. I inhaled her son's collection of anime comics. In school I became aquatinted with a young polish man. I vividly remember the stories he would recount of his difficult childhood in Poland. </div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">My mother intentionally nurtured a profound appreciation for different cultures. One of my favourite yearly events was a multicultural dinner that she would host with her friends. I can't remember if it was the ladies axillary or our church.. I just remember tables laden with textiles, dishes and relics of people's home countries. It gave them an opportunity to share their culture and treasures with the community. Each table provided cuisine from their home country and a glimpse into their world. I felt like a minority basking in the beauty of other cultures. I remember wondering how they left their country to come to our rainy, isolated village. Of course I wasn't aware until much later, of the poverty, government corruption and desperation that existed in their homelands. They all had different stories but the common thread was that they wanted to give their children better opportunities than they had. </div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">When we weren't enjoying far flung cuisine at our neighbours homes we were welcoming missionaries to our table. Our home was a revolving door for guests, neighbours, and sometimes perfect strangers. In one bizarre instance I woke up to find a stranger sleeping on our couch. It turns out he was a homeless man who had come to visit our community and wound up on our couch as there were no local services. We invited him to join us for breakfast and then sent him on his way with a bagged lunch.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It grieves me that my children are not exposed to other cultures the way that I was. They hear the beautiful south African accent in our church but don't rub shoulders, visit homes and get to know people from different backgrounds like I did. I try to compensate for it but cooking ethics dishes and choose curriculum that explores other cultures, but it is still a far cry from my own experience. I long to travel with my children and expose them to the color, vibrancy, and beauty of other cultures. In the meantime we read them living books and tales about children growing up in other cultures. We recently finished reading <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Amal-Unbound-Aisha-Saeed-ebook/dp/B074S4QFBH/ref=sr_1_1?crid=16C7VL54AQ8G7&dchild=1&keywords=amal+unbound&qid=1635694432&sprefix=Amal+U%2Caps%2C226&sr=8-1">"Amal Unbound"</a> by Aisha Saeed. It is the tale of a young girl who becomes an indentured slave when she challenges a powerful, rich family in her community. We just started a novel study called <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/495893.Underground_to_Canada?msclkid=d0d15807c18311ec92639241a66a8906">Underground to Canada</a> by Barbara Smucker. It recounts the storey of a young slave girl and her journey to freedom. Both have been springboard for conversations about difficult things as well as an opportunity to learn about another culture. More than anything, I want them to develop an appreciation and curiosity about other people and cultures. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-80920998863455121312021-11-30T07:37:00.027-08:002021-12-15T08:05:48.877-08:00Sobering Thoughts<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvOSQBV_rZabGcYNf0hsBLX7eRpYwFpfDJlX3lsBzuWPZvGguA9boHS1I8Ef9FrkBNw2l3K_h5B0FixFpt0MWgILHOKMZ1YFB7gz3rn028p5uFLc1hgKP8eDB7F6T10YubZvr9y5xu88oj/s4800/DSC_9923.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvOSQBV_rZabGcYNf0hsBLX7eRpYwFpfDJlX3lsBzuWPZvGguA9boHS1I8Ef9FrkBNw2l3K_h5B0FixFpt0MWgILHOKMZ1YFB7gz3rn028p5uFLc1hgKP8eDB7F6T10YubZvr9y5xu88oj/w640-h426/DSC_9923.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;">I just started reading <a href="https://www.weforum.org/about/klaus-schwab">Klaus Schwab's</a> book "The Great Reset". I have been following it's author, an engineer, economist and chairman of the World Economic Forum, for over a year. While I am not interested in economics per se, I am interested the insights and inner workings of those who have tremendous power and sway in our fragile world. I have always had an intense desire to understand how powerful, and visionary men are able to capture people's hearts and use that power for the betterment of society or its destruction.</p><p style="text-align: center;"> It is the same reason I have read and re-read the propaganda of Hitler; <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Mein-Kampf-Adolf-Hitler-ebook/dp/B096G19M7K/ref=sr_1_2?crid=BQHQQI7HRU22&dchild=1&keywords=mein+kemph&qid=1635174450&s=books&sprefix=mein+%2Cstripbooks%2C226&sr=1-2">Mein Kampf </a>and <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/s?k=A+Communist+Manifesto&i=stripbooks&ref=nb_sb_noss_2">A Communist Manifesto</a> by Karl Marx. I want to understand their intent as well as their methods. The <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pol_Pot">Pol Pot</a> regime in Cambodia has always been of particular interest to me, especially after I visited the country and witnessed its "killing fields" and "re-education centers". I have sought to understand how its proponents committed genocide against their own people in the quest to create an agrarian socialist society. They were well intentioned but the outcome was devastating nonetheless . They annihilated anyone who challenged them, particularly the scientists and the educators. And then there is the Holocaust against the Jews. I have not not been to the concentration camps in Europe where women, children and men were stripped of their humanity and dumped into mass graves, but I have read enough biographies and historical documents to verify that it occurred. These atrocities only scratch the surface of the horror visited on humanity throughout the ages. And it continues. How many months ago were the bodies of first nations children discovered in mass graves? We like to imagine that we are above such acts of cruelty. We are not . </p><p style="text-align: center;">History repeats itself. </p><p style="text-align: center;">There is always this fallacious belief: "It would not be the same here; here such things are impossible." Alas all of the evil of the twentieth century is possible everywhere. - Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn</p><p style="text-align: center;">We like to imagine ourselves "evolved", conscientious and incapable of the crimes our ancestors committed. How I wish that were true. A brief glance at the world news will remind you that sexual child abuse is rampant in India, that there are more slaves now that ever before in history and that intolerance of religion is at an all time high, particularly in countries where there is an Islamic extremist presence. </p><p style="text-align: center;">I find myself asking: how did German citizens turn a blind eye to the annihilation of their Jewish neighbours and friends. What would I have done if I were a young German woman during the rise of Nazi power? What I would have done as the daughter of a rich plantation owner? I hope against hope that I would have stood up, resisted the tide of hatred, and fought to protect the oppressed rather than subjugate and enslave them. </p><p style="text-align: center;">I currently find myself in a position where I disagree with the mandates being issued by my own government. And while they are a far cry from the historical refences I mentioned above, they are an infringement of our constitution. I have witnessed countless friends loose their hard earned careers careers because they are not willing to bow to governmental control and loose atomy over their bodies. Do I remain silent? Do I speak? I have been in agony over the issue, because I have been uncertain where I stand on many of its divisive issues. I am not a conspiracy theorist but I am aware that there is value in looking at the present through the lens of history. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-41901695330529020642021-10-03T07:26:00.000-07:002021-10-03T07:26:27.148-07:00Musings<p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-BgOFiEn7aM93Fa73GiAtxoesK7wYlcBrRj-OqwECrIsM-BF8yS-18FuXxTbup4kwTZlfxEsMfakXW7nZx_hrQcWn_eGHphMKNKTMPwhI9MhxuNxyrNQmql7spAETCKRyaCdY6a2ngRPV/s4800/DSC_7518.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-BgOFiEn7aM93Fa73GiAtxoesK7wYlcBrRj-OqwECrIsM-BF8yS-18FuXxTbup4kwTZlfxEsMfakXW7nZx_hrQcWn_eGHphMKNKTMPwhI9MhxuNxyrNQmql7spAETCKRyaCdY6a2ngRPV/w640-h426/DSC_7518.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">Sometimes I muse about the life we have chosen. It's messy, time consuming and unfinished. I smirk when I think about how ridiculous and impractical it appeared to leave our new build in a residential area. We had a mortgage helper, space for a small garden, fabulous neighbours and were walking distance to a quaint elementary school.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGagleZWESNfawb34W-RheFpe4ngATV5qKJaQRwWtmtIQa3eYJgOfy7BchzeoGtyGMdU2-ggBg7Xs1ziDPzpDTiZSduuntPY5B5HaFcZQmGueQIsuBo2_6CC2IUbxx2IX-fGKDj-udAVDr/s6000/DSC_0937.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGagleZWESNfawb34W-RheFpe4ngATV5qKJaQRwWtmtIQa3eYJgOfy7BchzeoGtyGMdU2-ggBg7Xs1ziDPzpDTiZSduuntPY5B5HaFcZQmGueQIsuBo2_6CC2IUbxx2IX-fGKDj-udAVDr/w640-h426/DSC_0937.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvnA9nJkia-iB0-WCoTRzmsz7h3Pk-SItXSSBF2DBXL3TCcLAGZ5bU9J2uvjjFMpEPoisywLatYb6-qh4XR63iIRUhEmliG1eYM9qy2GKb-zjkczEo_IB6YItoDH4BF71O0w7CVyS1SMKo/s6000/DSC_0942.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvnA9nJkia-iB0-WCoTRzmsz7h3Pk-SItXSSBF2DBXL3TCcLAGZ5bU9J2uvjjFMpEPoisywLatYb6-qh4XR63iIRUhEmliG1eYM9qy2GKb-zjkczEo_IB6YItoDH4BF71O0w7CVyS1SMKo/w640-h426/DSC_0942.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">But deep down, we knew it was temporary; a stepping stone to our dream of owning acreage. We found ways to stay content in our home while we nurtured our dream. We didn't want to wait until we had property to have bees and garden and were blessed to find found lovely people who were willing to share their property with us.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnkaDFWMCsfQspUSWbv6GD8uEvh83ovcQNo4qM1MH2Wq36hk0ME0PcYRW4KL7rM0ZmCfXUjc-apUvWL5UrgET9VA7nyMcxFFAKbVYSYJCmg1K-vkPoidLJStyzT4wvecLU7i36FMGigCV4/s4800/DSC_9427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnkaDFWMCsfQspUSWbv6GD8uEvh83ovcQNo4qM1MH2Wq36hk0ME0PcYRW4KL7rM0ZmCfXUjc-apUvWL5UrgET9VA7nyMcxFFAKbVYSYJCmg1K-vkPoidLJStyzT4wvecLU7i36FMGigCV4/w640-h426/DSC_9427.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvQcLuHsAIyccl4GNilUj0y8X936S48oyknV6c7eFACuiK_4OfYMC0DKN58PPzNa1-8XMicG19DlndrPgE_ByiP2D28BpEmsHhEpht5dIZLQuVarhsq8Yu5sdj2CBGVJXEzw9zMG7-xxAi/s4800/DSC_9415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvQcLuHsAIyccl4GNilUj0y8X936S48oyknV6c7eFACuiK_4OfYMC0DKN58PPzNa1-8XMicG19DlndrPgE_ByiP2D28BpEmsHhEpht5dIZLQuVarhsq8Yu5sdj2CBGVJXEzw9zMG7-xxAi/w640-h426/DSC_9415.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"> We gleaned wherever we could, knocking on doors when we saw fruit trees laden with apples and cherries in people's yards. They were always more than happy to let us pick to our heart's content. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYqdiFDtRkcSSTiZicb_FxaDlwTbaiD69DjL-4_il3BkkjBzLuI2_PbbSVvh1W7kjBqbXkCUvyQcMFekrORrUCkie-hLe5S0xUN53FkvB7ef1PIpkLZwvLoaqCagTZkGT5zf5C6Co4blU1/s4800/DSC_9424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYqdiFDtRkcSSTiZicb_FxaDlwTbaiD69DjL-4_il3BkkjBzLuI2_PbbSVvh1W7kjBqbXkCUvyQcMFekrORrUCkie-hLe5S0xUN53FkvB7ef1PIpkLZwvLoaqCagTZkGT5zf5C6Co4blU1/w640-h426/DSC_9424.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha6xC0u7pSpMstv9JVGAn0a71T3Tlr3eQ6J9UudRK_38gk7yZrpSewBxQo-tPsV_bQXHs9EgiZHQO9tSP8HHdIjA87JAbC2KZFFKnjPKFgAELNiKJMjlMw3omwdfkeTnDbqI-hgCnWNyTW/s4800/DSC_7823.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha6xC0u7pSpMstv9JVGAn0a71T3Tlr3eQ6J9UudRK_38gk7yZrpSewBxQo-tPsV_bQXHs9EgiZHQO9tSP8HHdIjA87JAbC2KZFFKnjPKFgAELNiKJMjlMw3omwdfkeTnDbqI-hgCnWNyTW/w640-h426/DSC_7823.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">We appreciated experiencing aspects of "the country life" while living in suburbia. We cared for other's chickens, harvested our honey and LOADS of beeswax. I registered my eldest for 4H and she got to patriciate in various local fairs. I guess in some ways it was our way of dipping out toes in the "country life" that neither of us was familiar with. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7x0fhB0sHTV2ruj0L8dhFwVZuwhHOrmh89LtAmvJdCLQpFsFNEfQ-YdKERHHzOti3xIuHKgx5M3_uRRWhi2fOwzdOQKGegRZOk8hNTYoUA4LZ3uEJP2EKJ_GjBEAGN7HKcRiq77rRJp7/s6000/DSC_1280.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7x0fhB0sHTV2ruj0L8dhFwVZuwhHOrmh89LtAmvJdCLQpFsFNEfQ-YdKERHHzOti3xIuHKgx5M3_uRRWhi2fOwzdOQKGegRZOk8hNTYoUA4LZ3uEJP2EKJ_GjBEAGN7HKcRiq77rRJp7/w640-h426/DSC_1280.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdP0JBaROc0BnLrB-x5SJ8svx15_G9HSHHHMJre_sTYnvIVDf5Xc-eJ5kCCaOlHYpJBOCMnKV-ynMIZgY8Ooq9ZHVghpqHgjtTsm8KbI-BTCdtBu-eC7zqmbMCBCcZlZ1LrCmpuHu738Xd/s6000/DSC_1071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdP0JBaROc0BnLrB-x5SJ8svx15_G9HSHHHMJre_sTYnvIVDf5Xc-eJ5kCCaOlHYpJBOCMnKV-ynMIZgY8Ooq9ZHVghpqHgjtTsm8KbI-BTCdtBu-eC7zqmbMCBCcZlZ1LrCmpuHu738Xd/w640-h426/DSC_1071.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_O94xLa1v3a1p5pNGmx3LgdMec02xBgFoA63UKyUdpkeXscDIN1d9yo5BHR_kEKJlb7Sy3eMCkJl8Um5_pUeMG_jB-0VgnK6OqLfMWKWxec5q5p8StgF2QjxXJJnVGZXJ9089xTLiM_5w/s6000/DSC_1075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_O94xLa1v3a1p5pNGmx3LgdMec02xBgFoA63UKyUdpkeXscDIN1d9yo5BHR_kEKJlb7Sy3eMCkJl8Um5_pUeMG_jB-0VgnK6OqLfMWKWxec5q5p8StgF2QjxXJJnVGZXJ9089xTLiM_5w/w640-h426/DSC_1075.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZrNqn8ftNicWBFPbMBwlwYCIoUhVTh2tER5tyJefm5Sk1FhTOeaIl95OZrSmZgXNU__lbSQOMCYblCgIPuwfBv2pHnMphlsVYhUU8WS2rGouukiNIopVZ37GwoPAQqvg7-nfyjKg7V35Q/s4800/DSC_7724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4800" data-original-width="3200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZrNqn8ftNicWBFPbMBwlwYCIoUhVTh2tER5tyJefm5Sk1FhTOeaIl95OZrSmZgXNU__lbSQOMCYblCgIPuwfBv2pHnMphlsVYhUU8WS2rGouukiNIopVZ37GwoPAQqvg7-nfyjKg7V35Q/w426-h640/DSC_7724.JPG" width="426" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnqKcbGOQsRrmjrZQMUVHgCbtTFvRBU0yuTrF0hZw8ypIjMmdmm0aY6B2320roiMNIjiIFG9wzwXLIO6X_DLO_SustGtGT210rVvei_9Q6uuLJPCaVGylU1IHuPd8I23qJkisHzIxw5QK_/s4800/DSC_9431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnqKcbGOQsRrmjrZQMUVHgCbtTFvRBU0yuTrF0hZw8ypIjMmdmm0aY6B2320roiMNIjiIFG9wzwXLIO6X_DLO_SustGtGT210rVvei_9Q6uuLJPCaVGylU1IHuPd8I23qJkisHzIxw5QK_/w640-h426/DSC_9431.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwlvusikH0xcCytYNfKstObAwhz3p8uqhpjy5QvLKz-Wa7FVIFjQsBq0Pci7urKheDuhuLj-fd4U_jATlkTw8EAjyV5DZbZN-CR0e4BK7VrGMfRxaHV6XCszZzIWx_mjlDtgRtQsz4Xq8j/s4800/DSC_9213.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwlvusikH0xcCytYNfKstObAwhz3p8uqhpjy5QvLKz-Wa7FVIFjQsBq0Pci7urKheDuhuLj-fd4U_jATlkTw8EAjyV5DZbZN-CR0e4BK7VrGMfRxaHV6XCszZzIWx_mjlDtgRtQsz4Xq8j/w640-h426/DSC_9213.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">I have vivid memories of weeding our allotment in town while Nate tended to his bees. I would always have to leave early because the children would get hot or bored or hungry (you know how it goes) but I longed to linger in the sunshine with my hands in the dirt. I longed for the day that bees and vegetables and flowers would only be a few steps from my front door and I could garden to my hearts content while my children played contentedly nearby. </p><p style="text-align: center;">So when an opportunity presented itself, we sold our home and moved to a decrepit house in a rural location with more land than we ever thought we could afford. </p><p style="text-align: center;">Why? Why, well I think it came down to our priorities and what brings us joy. There are so many beautiful ways to love one's life and it is a tremendous privilege to be able to CHOOSE your life instead of having it thrust on you.</p><p style="text-align: center;">This summer I experienced my dream to the fullest. My son built dirt ramps and ran barefoot through sprinklers while I planted scarlet runners, my daughter sat in the grass and read to her bunny while I watered the potatoes and my eldest sat at the picnic table under the cherry tree and sketched while I picked sweet peas. Sometimes they would join me to plant or weed or munch on a raspberry, but most of the time they just relished unhurried time outside while I gardened to my heart's content.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbQ9CJthtEr8I3FNZe7Zm-2e6Pz5BOF7_xO0BRZT60WPnnSlFI-Q7XwEnFpuyL7AzzeUx8yhsDvHl5EOHs2RrkX3yxUBSgFLINFORW5TKFS3qmgzW7w9tnIkOBMQh7zNkEZmha_Zfc3WBV/s4800/DSC_7564.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbQ9CJthtEr8I3FNZe7Zm-2e6Pz5BOF7_xO0BRZT60WPnnSlFI-Q7XwEnFpuyL7AzzeUx8yhsDvHl5EOHs2RrkX3yxUBSgFLINFORW5TKFS3qmgzW7w9tnIkOBMQh7zNkEZmha_Zfc3WBV/w640-h426/DSC_7564.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbtRAH3Pr_EmjJVPUtGG7ZWmeOLta-r9wwSLj26WGK17vhhq57cuAimeCETEFW_XCZ3VYspk_6tUON8yEloqiM6cm96YHkIOu00HndCmEkSa8L5CijeKawfqBvpZgSHHzvWUhjmqeaR3dD/s4800/DSC_7569.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbtRAH3Pr_EmjJVPUtGG7ZWmeOLta-r9wwSLj26WGK17vhhq57cuAimeCETEFW_XCZ3VYspk_6tUON8yEloqiM6cm96YHkIOu00HndCmEkSa8L5CijeKawfqBvpZgSHHzvWUhjmqeaR3dD/w640-h426/DSC_7569.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDPC4kVR5ecAxoic3AGaUtIiI57x3g-1th4lG-kG0J6OO_ANXSpIh1qKTkQA2IDwkppc4A4OBT4ytOzwXqNe39W8_1O4xBuHgH5j-hdepiH9HgtAC7KZhglYGhgDneHXD3544jx-oomnZs/s4800/DSC_7593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDPC4kVR5ecAxoic3AGaUtIiI57x3g-1th4lG-kG0J6OO_ANXSpIh1qKTkQA2IDwkppc4A4OBT4ytOzwXqNe39W8_1O4xBuHgH5j-hdepiH9HgtAC7KZhglYGhgDneHXD3544jx-oomnZs/w640-h426/DSC_7593.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8IG9I26-kQ_aCL71nvJhDOgtUdt7kfEHlkZtDU37wti28qlFwAttPpwkexzGm_IRR7wwPOygOi8w7o6JUxGc_2Iq8CI5xP544f7bRWoFvQIMOukxjYgcR8FQj_OQK5y_qTK4VdfMhrC8d/s4800/DSC_7954.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8IG9I26-kQ_aCL71nvJhDOgtUdt7kfEHlkZtDU37wti28qlFwAttPpwkexzGm_IRR7wwPOygOi8w7o6JUxGc_2Iq8CI5xP544f7bRWoFvQIMOukxjYgcR8FQj_OQK5y_qTK4VdfMhrC8d/w640-h426/DSC_7954.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-3Rq45RZydFQPlAFQ7QcfbBgfOtYatLAXRe4ZBdi1Lz2AhEwZB6fMZSSe7MlIS404efKk6oYUMDJNMzVQITiyvqPWYp4aSb8QHLwN-0VMjcLDM-IpcDXvzo1B-fD_9i2yE4APSs9wflvp/s4800/DSC_7963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-3Rq45RZydFQPlAFQ7QcfbBgfOtYatLAXRe4ZBdi1Lz2AhEwZB6fMZSSe7MlIS404efKk6oYUMDJNMzVQITiyvqPWYp4aSb8QHLwN-0VMjcLDM-IpcDXvzo1B-fD_9i2yE4APSs9wflvp/w640-h426/DSC_7963.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p class="indent1stline" style="background-color: white; color: #001320; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 30px; margin-right: 30px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Trust in the LORD and do good; dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness. </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Delight yourself in the LORD, and He will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the LORD; trust in Him, and He will do it." </span></span></p></blockquote><p><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #001320; font-size: x-large;"> - Psalm 37:4</span></span></p><p></p><p class="indent2" style="background-color: white; color: #001320; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 30px 0px 60px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><a name="5"></a></span></p><p class="indent2" style="background-color: white; color: #001320; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 30px 0px 60px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><a name="6"></a></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-9516710351517154092021-09-26T07:49:00.007-07:002021-09-26T07:51:21.814-07:00Posture of the Heart<p style="text-align: center;">I want THIS to be the posture of my heart as I navigate life. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgypnR46OZeJdfPeAC8NY5UC7NvmrbImlJO4v9wRVRv73kIjJj2jg9HFDuc32SGD0WC_-BQEuxUkosN2ef1FvLgGvlQp8BkDTLexA9bsVNl_pkwBHbS2jK7Dk1-npifK9Z-R4ilE9AO_LV-/s4800/DSC_0076.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgypnR46OZeJdfPeAC8NY5UC7NvmrbImlJO4v9wRVRv73kIjJj2jg9HFDuc32SGD0WC_-BQEuxUkosN2ef1FvLgGvlQp8BkDTLexA9bsVNl_pkwBHbS2jK7Dk1-npifK9Z-R4ilE9AO_LV-/w640-h426/DSC_0076.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">I have a subscription to a beautiful magazine called <a href="https://www.bewildandfree.org/">Wild and Free</a> and when I pulled this particular issue out of the mailbox, I sighed audibly. </p><p style="text-align: center;">This image captures the posture of my heart.</p><p style="text-align: center;">I love how her face is upturned towards the heavens, her body at rest. She holds a book of some ind in her hands. Is it is journal, a Bible? I don't know, but it symbolizes that she values wisdom. She holds it reverently. She is not striving but rather peacefully waiting. She knows who she is. </p><p style="text-align: center;"> A woman who trusts in the Lord. </p><p style="text-align: center;">I want this to be the posture of my heart each and EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. </p><p style="text-align: center;">This is why I get up early each day- to sit at the feet of Jesus, to soak in His presence, to read His word and let His peace permeate my soul. To journal the things He speaks to my heart, to read life giving words in His love letter to me. </p><p style="text-align: center;">Life is crazy these days. There is so much that I could agonize about right now- but stress, anxiety and fear are not the answer. </p><p style="text-align: center;">Waiting at the feet of Jesus is the only place I want to be. Because when THIS is the posture of my heart, the rest will sort itself out. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;">I </p>Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-16157462467648922992021-09-19T08:41:00.001-07:002021-09-19T08:41:37.031-07:00Make room for intimacy<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw63OJSkT0foPclqoAjb52O45jc_lYl5xcxnssTMhVYO3Jz5EGJdyWuPrJSbPGNDK13DjDOyUfKB4i-5Iok3COrtdLEbNfryy-gz1f3QY9LsiOHogg0iTmMyZAiLRm3D66V_Qd_7U1R_Hr/s4800/DSC_9870.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw63OJSkT0foPclqoAjb52O45jc_lYl5xcxnssTMhVYO3Jz5EGJdyWuPrJSbPGNDK13DjDOyUfKB4i-5Iok3COrtdLEbNfryy-gz1f3QY9LsiOHogg0iTmMyZAiLRm3D66V_Qd_7U1R_Hr/w640-h426/DSC_9870.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibuCztHQOKd7jtyErExP8-kmAobGolcOIyaZrVPM1L8T7DSgN0fnm4fcvIulwwjnND3u6bzmRl8BfY13sYmxJSQ9xhivITk8nwawW1rufc4n6FMEfP5fve2N5bKIpev-PAlbKuT6204UUJ/s4800/DSC_9876.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibuCztHQOKd7jtyErExP8-kmAobGolcOIyaZrVPM1L8T7DSgN0fnm4fcvIulwwjnND3u6bzmRl8BfY13sYmxJSQ9xhivITk8nwawW1rufc4n6FMEfP5fve2N5bKIpev-PAlbKuT6204UUJ/w640-h426/DSC_9876.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">How do we cultivate an atmosphere within the church that embraces people in their broken places? How do we create space for open, raw and vulnerable conversation about how hard life can be. Lately I have found myself sitting at kitchen tables, hands wrapped around tea and witnessing hearts unravel. Witnessing loneliness and depression in its most crippling form. </span></div><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilxfBx58M91T-d8yNuxw9NyzCjf0O7FkTbDw8lrC2OjHigDyPa19USfJrc6NLihY7hEqGBxYvbBWxb9LQTBiiGax2qFwF35KT2eHn6pmmzdHSwy_zYdZiqZSuRMOoVIdrf3NBlLkJR2YI6/s4800/DSC_9923.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilxfBx58M91T-d8yNuxw9NyzCjf0O7FkTbDw8lrC2OjHigDyPa19USfJrc6NLihY7hEqGBxYvbBWxb9LQTBiiGax2qFwF35KT2eHn6pmmzdHSwy_zYdZiqZSuRMOoVIdrf3NBlLkJR2YI6/w640-h426/DSC_9923.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiiKVGCAiJHHj3c7kua6tpx49gm6pioPUB7yCpXO5DooVVPjOsEKm0Ag-HHvxG8QiUqXVBwVH3EJ6c4o63gtI9fJimMmUkV_GIdjeHSv6XUpZsuSzi0t2UKG2BkgrUPeTJaMoFLvirmOpL/s4800/DSC_9661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiiKVGCAiJHHj3c7kua6tpx49gm6pioPUB7yCpXO5DooVVPjOsEKm0Ag-HHvxG8QiUqXVBwVH3EJ6c4o63gtI9fJimMmUkV_GIdjeHSv6XUpZsuSzi0t2UKG2BkgrUPeTJaMoFLvirmOpL/w640-h426/DSC_9661.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCUC-1ZT_wCpY2iut9tFLPbTvbUJP3eMmnZLbeDZDHm21tc01FVm4mWo-Zs63Yqvw4O2X4-lMLpxO9pHJ6puFYoQz94k_he5PfNWQDXSv-11zXoYz1gY9_AWtWtmgGw74VtncvOSTjNMXq/s4800/DSC_9873.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCUC-1ZT_wCpY2iut9tFLPbTvbUJP3eMmnZLbeDZDHm21tc01FVm4mWo-Zs63Yqvw4O2X4-lMLpxO9pHJ6puFYoQz94k_he5PfNWQDXSv-11zXoYz1gY9_AWtWtmgGw74VtncvOSTjNMXq/w640-h426/DSC_9873.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">Let's just address the reality that being a Christian does not make you immune to pain, brokenness, heart break and despair. Sometimes it can actually make you lonelier because there is the unspoken expectation that you need to pretend that everything is fine. Sometimes it feels like the church is full of "happy, shiny, unrelatable people" but I know that this is not true. I know that many are suffering silently. Let's not let that happen on our watch. At connect group last night we were joking about difficult it can be to connect with people in a meaningful way at church when your children are running circles around the building and impatient to get home and have lunch. There isn't time to adequately answer the question: "How are you" or have any conversation of substance. Let's make more space for people to answer the question "how are you"? </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmI9Yr-e9XfItoIkKpqN16-YHVdbggXGjZ7mGlzcIsfXkyan3aVoQ2qd0KmYX7kzeFAaKSfVl_sWzoQSKa3PR2-qhLkrt-fwdE354aSty_MpUIhaYO4hUFQDANjaBgTpNXK_gUmrm77gyo/s4800/DSC_9897.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmI9Yr-e9XfItoIkKpqN16-YHVdbggXGjZ7mGlzcIsfXkyan3aVoQ2qd0KmYX7kzeFAaKSfVl_sWzoQSKa3PR2-qhLkrt-fwdE354aSty_MpUIhaYO4hUFQDANjaBgTpNXK_gUmrm77gyo/w640-h426/DSC_9897.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt0xSILK-pIzjODQwhyUPv6xn5g-kn3bFAK2irFdieRKsa3CwZA6vkRxPNZd3eNAPfD5Pc0mTXGZmYoXziGDG3ZAtxjrfWA6_FY2Ahs6w_7X3tVzHtc9OX6iVGA-MKxxGMEhCNbK4ddPrU/s4800/DSC_9884.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt0xSILK-pIzjODQwhyUPv6xn5g-kn3bFAK2irFdieRKsa3CwZA6vkRxPNZd3eNAPfD5Pc0mTXGZmYoXziGDG3ZAtxjrfWA6_FY2Ahs6w_7X3tVzHtc9OX6iVGA-MKxxGMEhCNbK4ddPrU/w640-h426/DSC_9884.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgfmjOGlN1sc4-OaCZuIZPJaZMjjw7Cyblpt1wzV_W1nrJeGZcBRp2UEwjoih0rHAsMQFrHyar7kncP6ItbkPrtyIDYznbNcOUTXY8ujvDrjDmiFn76NnumRjiRVSPlPlCCq0-UW4RlOmS/s4800/DSC_9892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgfmjOGlN1sc4-OaCZuIZPJaZMjjw7Cyblpt1wzV_W1nrJeGZcBRp2UEwjoih0rHAsMQFrHyar7kncP6ItbkPrtyIDYznbNcOUTXY8ujvDrjDmiFn76NnumRjiRVSPlPlCCq0-UW4RlOmS/w640-h426/DSC_9892.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p>I think that is why I have become so passionate about small groups meeting together on a regular basis to share their hearts, sorrows, revelations, and food. We need community- especially after the mess of the past eighteen months. We need connection, vulnerability and physical closeness. Zoom cannot possibly replace the beauty of that. Our home isn't finished, in fact we are down to one unfinished bathroom, our deck is non-existent and our property currently smells but chicken poo. It's not about creating the perfect environment. It's about hospitality. It's about glorifying our Lord through the simple act of opening one's doors and saying "come as you are". Don't wait until your environment is perfect to welcome people into it. Welcome them into your renovation, counter piled with dishes and noise. We were created for community. If we rub shoulders enough, we can speak hope and life into another. </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRq1Rw5BIEyEXF9TuoESls5d3n1ACdGr52KvsRGlcaCY7mvUE4ouftefovfXDABfF_1I78vsdE0pyax7vNjlmMJq_5qux7JYNLJ8TLbMb96aNtfhREItogL3CzeG7ICEMkPVmJfP9zeYp4/s4800/DSC_9921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRq1Rw5BIEyEXF9TuoESls5d3n1ACdGr52KvsRGlcaCY7mvUE4ouftefovfXDABfF_1I78vsdE0pyax7vNjlmMJq_5qux7JYNLJ8TLbMb96aNtfhREItogL3CzeG7ICEMkPVmJfP9zeYp4/w640-h426/DSC_9921.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilL1S94M6XTTyExTDo1GQzKF1LiAtAJNUGcq86UUgWCwckWVgz0bLY4YSBI9dd50SOLteXtsnfkKbVhQ9j3wzL-UiNIInPGaqaNCDDSIVmstE5HBIXgy2HuTQa5ReVjnqrCl5CHaJ19OIQ/s4800/DSC_9919.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilL1S94M6XTTyExTDo1GQzKF1LiAtAJNUGcq86UUgWCwckWVgz0bLY4YSBI9dd50SOLteXtsnfkKbVhQ9j3wzL-UiNIInPGaqaNCDDSIVmstE5HBIXgy2HuTQa5ReVjnqrCl5CHaJ19OIQ/w640-h426/DSC_9919.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">I love that I have cultivated an environment of honesty in my relationships. It has come through sharing my own brokenness, of asking hard, uncomfortable questions and sitting with people in those hard uncomfortable responses. There is no room for pretending. If you want to be friends with me I am going to invite you into the beautiful world of vulnerability. Why? Because I believe that we are supposed to carry each other. We cannot possibly expect our spouses/partners to carry that burden alone. It is meant to be shared by many. We all have unique gifting's and experiences that can bring hope, encouragement, and life to people in the trenches of life. None of us are immune to the rigors of life, loss, depression, sorrow, grief, and disappointment. Life is rife with it. Let's stop pretending that our lives are Instagram posts. While there is a place for this. I am more in favour of <span style="text-align: left;"> rubbing shoulders, prayer, and intimacy in real time. </span></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv1rluIAfGaFRhn3XBXX6pD_g6pE63sAIQ-9KaakL3zZKIx8PYhHEP2c4PitWAubtDgfUgS5pYKaM1JM-y2rlOyn0lmE0LAuVVfCvU_9FrksRVJZtB06UqCPd9lEyKurrPa0MARIdS1wwK/s4800/DSC_9890.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv1rluIAfGaFRhn3XBXX6pD_g6pE63sAIQ-9KaakL3zZKIx8PYhHEP2c4PitWAubtDgfUgS5pYKaM1JM-y2rlOyn0lmE0LAuVVfCvU_9FrksRVJZtB06UqCPd9lEyKurrPa0MARIdS1wwK/w640-h426/DSC_9890.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq-cWXdkW7SrEy2m9BxQpXSWayxDMm-BWLdffnKFtxX8P7k85gIzx2NiKaLozKxUD8tetoTm7QFjojT5XOG08pQwBVI5oBmlGz1fq99Xo7WkSNLhs00bpKH8szL0n6niNXdJChNuSEQrFc/s4800/DSC_9887.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq-cWXdkW7SrEy2m9BxQpXSWayxDMm-BWLdffnKFtxX8P7k85gIzx2NiKaLozKxUD8tetoTm7QFjojT5XOG08pQwBVI5oBmlGz1fq99Xo7WkSNLhs00bpKH8szL0n6niNXdJChNuSEQrFc/w640-h426/DSC_9887.JPG" width="640" /></a></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-3387291250041964462021-09-08T06:57:00.005-07:002021-09-08T07:09:27.601-07:00Reluctant Homeschool Momma<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKw2d2N5cu6Zmtmfz2bcygrYpWJQ8aI285CmZfJodB-CzAQ9oSrrhSzYZKXGPARSy3nEAgunWaPj4PA1vvMDOGugsZGP4pjpvN2lIIr1QjpLvxtbMSx3N0xEYmVqXnItPJlvEcPV1A5x_o/s4800/DSC_9904.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4800" data-original-width="3200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKw2d2N5cu6Zmtmfz2bcygrYpWJQ8aI285CmZfJodB-CzAQ9oSrrhSzYZKXGPARSy3nEAgunWaPj4PA1vvMDOGugsZGP4pjpvN2lIIr1QjpLvxtbMSx3N0xEYmVqXnItPJlvEcPV1A5x_o/w426-h640/DSC_9904.JPG" width="426" /></a></div><br /><p>Two years ago I was giddy with the prospect of sending all three of my children to school and having much anticipated time ALONE. I realized, however, that I wasn't willing to sacrifice my alone time for their welfare. My priorities had to shift when I realized that my hyperactive son was constantly in trouble, that my middle daughter needed more academic support than the school could provide her and that my eldest daughter had been sworn at and threated nearly every morning on the bus and at school. I grieved when I realized that they were not thriving, that I would have to give up my free time, that I would have to teach them. I was MAD and disappointed and felt like a failure. Why couldn't my five year son sit still in class and just pay attention, why did my daughter have such a significant learning disability, why were kids so cruel? I know that children endure these things and manage to overcome them, but I didn't want my children to just "endure" life. I wanted them to THRIVE!</p><p>We began our second year of homeschooling yesterday. Even as I type the words I find myself shaking my head and thinking, "how did I get here"? How on earth did I decide it was a good idea to be responsible for my children's education. It's almost laughable. It sounds illogical to take on such a task without any prior training. It's not easy, a popular choice, or financially benefiting but here I am, confident that it is the best choice for this particular chapter in my children's lives. </p><p>I was journaling this morning and reminding myself WHY I am homeschooling. When you choose to do something hard you need to have a good reason to spur yourself on when certain things hit the fan.</p><p><i>To cultivate the hearts and minds of my children</i></p><p><i>To raise strong, resilient children who know who they are and are not defined by their peers. </i></p><p><i>To help my children feel successful</i></p><p><i>To cultivate a love of learning. </i></p><p><i>To give them time to pursue interests and passions</i></p><p><i>To reduce stress and provide them with a feast of literature, art, music and ideas to devour.</i></p>I am becoming increasingly aware that I cherish simplicity and an unrushed lifestyle. While homeschooling may sound more complicated than sending my children to school for the day; I prefer it to the the stress of contending with endless school emails, lunch kits, pick ups, drops off, extracurricular activities and the emotional fall out before and after school.<div><br /></div><div>That being said, I going to try and share a little more of our homeschooling journey with you this year. It helps me to pause, reflect and appreciate where we have come from and where we are headed. I have no idea if anyone even reads my blog anymore, but I will write nonetheless. </div>Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-65066682402816333662021-08-30T11:27:00.136-07:002021-08-31T12:36:31.276-07:00It takes time to create beauty<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivpVB3ceyvb-Jvy_-nrcMx_wP5DR1rtMv34Zm3hNFk4ay3UfAkXKzAUPgNPs3Axm2PXEKvkvBTrdDtziz9jKPdgtnQJrMlsFh0TVk4W7p_qxCdB9r5e0AS7e_5ZjBHMwWt5DQVycMET-Xd/s4800/DSC_7060.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivpVB3ceyvb-Jvy_-nrcMx_wP5DR1rtMv34Zm3hNFk4ay3UfAkXKzAUPgNPs3Axm2PXEKvkvBTrdDtziz9jKPdgtnQJrMlsFh0TVk4W7p_qxCdB9r5e0AS7e_5ZjBHMwWt5DQVycMET-Xd/w640-h426/DSC_7060.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It's been awhile since I shared a little of my heart and life on this neglected blog of mine. While enjoy sharing snapshots of our life on Instagram, there is something about sitting down and sharing a slew of photos that encourages me to write with intention. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp9YUXZphtjsJBLpZX_e5tL847msdw45gpagwGH61NImt5mnWb0nGJn-scx7PIYEHWc8gNGTGxb0yYjzNtQxdIX3_eskeTvIkQswhOocCNiBYmfaLmFByMbdYk7izuRvh8urd7PhbbuHV8/s4800/DSC_3046.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp9YUXZphtjsJBLpZX_e5tL847msdw45gpagwGH61NImt5mnWb0nGJn-scx7PIYEHWc8gNGTGxb0yYjzNtQxdIX3_eskeTvIkQswhOocCNiBYmfaLmFByMbdYk7izuRvh8urd7PhbbuHV8/w640-h426/DSC_3046.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We are just finishing up another fun filled summer and slowly shifting out attention to the school year that lies ahead. I have been printing out curriculum and acquiring supplies. More than anything I have been preparing my heart and deciding what my focus will be for the year. But I will save those insights for another blog post. </div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGlr3n17ICUZb77POd2QyAXA3TRhkZXcPVcII8dawofoMeJiVdu-aF6GUtyFzb48e0k_Ydrwcl9a-LffccpF380j6VFP5tGlvXxVX8fu3QeZEEGG-ioi3p90981bi4A5uCfga4MGj_yeQm/s4800/DSC_3595.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGlr3n17ICUZb77POd2QyAXA3TRhkZXcPVcII8dawofoMeJiVdu-aF6GUtyFzb48e0k_Ydrwcl9a-LffccpF380j6VFP5tGlvXxVX8fu3QeZEEGG-ioi3p90981bi4A5uCfga4MGj_yeQm/w640-h426/DSC_3595.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">My husband and I have dreamt of a life in the country since early in our marriage. We initially imagined that we would purchase land on the wild west coast far from civilization but life taught us how important community is. Over the years we have purchased and sold homes with aspirations to one day be able to afford a chunk of land. We have gardened in nearly every place we called home over the course of 18 years of marriage. In the beginning it was just an assortment of bonsai that Nathaniel had scavenged from rocky west coast cliffs. At our townhouse we cultivated a beautiful little flower garden composed of foxgloves, hydrangea and roses. When Nate became a police officer we were deployed to a tiny community in the Chilcotin. It was in that there that we had our first taste of country life and we loved it. Nate rebuilt an existing chicken coop and we built garden beds from fallen trees. We grew tomatoes, pumpkins, zucchini and an assortment of other veggies. It was thrilling. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">We learned that gardening brought us life and togetherness. We loved the satisfaction of planning, cultivating and harvesting something that we could consume. When our term in the Chilcotin ended we requested a move to Vancouver Island. I knew that I would want to have another baby at some point so we purchased a newly built home with a basement suite. I needed a space that didn't require work, a space where I could just focus on my little people. We also knew that we would need the income from the suite to allow me to stay home with my children. </span><span style="text-align: left;">Our house hunting trip allowed us only two days to find a suitable home and we chose the second home that we viewed. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Our life in that neighbourhood proved to be a perfect fit for out family. After moving in we discovered a school within walking distance and fabulous neighbours. </span><span style="text-align: left;">Within a couple months we made friends with a farmer down the road. He agreed to a give us space to keep our bees and space for a little garden. It was bliss. We revelled in those rolling open fields just a five minute walk from our home. We would often meander down in the the evening after supper and collect baskets of sweet cherry tomatoes, fists of dahlias and more scarlet runner beans than we could eat. The children would hold chickens and collect crickets and my heart would do flip flops. In the those moments I couldn't help but thank the Lord for his provision. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBROGR05IlPR7rplQNWg6f9UsH0GG0SkWzOt-GQXYT1GbMjB8NwUy-ERsCjb2qMtfbX6I8fFbTZIx9pgnJROSDjqW1-zQUPdwG6FlfmK7PcTwjwPt39-r_5RMILg7qXHhrKy8zq3saH7pQ/s6000/DSC_9193.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBROGR05IlPR7rplQNWg6f9UsH0GG0SkWzOt-GQXYT1GbMjB8NwUy-ERsCjb2qMtfbX6I8fFbTZIx9pgnJROSDjqW1-zQUPdwG6FlfmK7PcTwjwPt39-r_5RMILg7qXHhrKy8zq3saH7pQ/w640-h426/DSC_9193.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlegoAYa59oXNOmYm6AKe4WN1PLTFIn_k5uKSJTfEdiSnU3kXzvCzWGGsX2ozVo0hvg92Rli4UxVmppmXWlvR6UltGL7STd28YxL_k0zsxlJgwzlN2QTvbL6DNhxYZnS3g6dCFwC-eEsde/s6000/DSC_9208.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="6000" data-original-width="4000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlegoAYa59oXNOmYm6AKe4WN1PLTFIn_k5uKSJTfEdiSnU3kXzvCzWGGsX2ozVo0hvg92Rli4UxVmppmXWlvR6UltGL7STd28YxL_k0zsxlJgwzlN2QTvbL6DNhxYZnS3g6dCFwC-eEsde/w426-h640/DSC_9208.JPG" width="426" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixWz_or9ALa_YnZVpnSlLe0n9bjRJTj776BjM7JITh9HAFvAhWVIlzhmHSawSxVBqvbjJj1E2LtvV0iSIgTi4rCT5nl7TVjG7hC8Erofq4v_Nhmurow3UXbtbqezOuj9MuOuNeT1H_dQGr/s6000/DSC_9185.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixWz_or9ALa_YnZVpnSlLe0n9bjRJTj776BjM7JITh9HAFvAhWVIlzhmHSawSxVBqvbjJj1E2LtvV0iSIgTi4rCT5nl7TVjG7hC8Erofq4v_Nhmurow3UXbtbqezOuj9MuOuNeT1H_dQGr/w640-h426/DSC_9185.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGz4CiGWwvw-cUfU1ylTKCat9k1JNoiViJDuou0DrpTiRAFXuD_YnJj9vFdrEAszFfRLoHyeXz0ZKC5Q8K72UeGNjJMNCJoffC6MrPaguR8lc1dDpT38ofajk2dKVY_f1ZrhVUbFF6BUzp/s6000/DSC_9187.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGz4CiGWwvw-cUfU1ylTKCat9k1JNoiViJDuou0DrpTiRAFXuD_YnJj9vFdrEAszFfRLoHyeXz0ZKC5Q8K72UeGNjJMNCJoffC6MrPaguR8lc1dDpT38ofajk2dKVY_f1ZrhVUbFF6BUzp/w640-h426/DSC_9187.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS0cwCo91LtIGZYLfxVtWYuZyuj4XBYT0SePYyyascQ4dunOSQwOdYbIZrvRDNp3mPvhuT6mSP-zQFdqAMnWTsfVd2PLE1C_3uBDlK2tbM5dJEpUVhOjKqH_pd4p11UNryfEToiOa2M0mm/s6000/DSC_9198.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS0cwCo91LtIGZYLfxVtWYuZyuj4XBYT0SePYyyascQ4dunOSQwOdYbIZrvRDNp3mPvhuT6mSP-zQFdqAMnWTsfVd2PLE1C_3uBDlK2tbM5dJEpUVhOjKqH_pd4p11UNryfEToiOa2M0mm/w640-h426/DSC_9198.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjJ2LxUdCFcdBjxnxeFs929XNWiWxTMz_1hWFcbBUAjKthIX21fo6Jw41XFgZM5uZF_IMCrXKTdZIVaVu2pgd9LKpGcNtI-mQCyttNc69WGZN2Z8PLFdgLyyTkcQjgSLbfzf_oFmPs_JmA/s6000/DSC_9209.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjJ2LxUdCFcdBjxnxeFs929XNWiWxTMz_1hWFcbBUAjKthIX21fo6Jw41XFgZM5uZF_IMCrXKTdZIVaVu2pgd9LKpGcNtI-mQCyttNc69WGZN2Z8PLFdgLyyTkcQjgSLbfzf_oFmPs_JmA/w640-h426/DSC_9209.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"> That plot of land sang to me and created a longing in me for my own wide open space. In the years that followed we began to hunt for the perfect piece of property. It was a disheartening experience and it made me question if it would ever be possibility for us. I questioned whether I was reaching for something that I wasn't supposed to. And yet, the longing persisted.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">We nearly bought twenty two acres with my parents but when the owner decided not to sell at the last possible moment, we were devastated. I grieved the loss of that land for over a year. After that I let go of our dream and determined in my heart that I learn to be content with what the Lord had provided us. I remember the moment when Nate and I| looked at each other and realized that perhaps we would never own acreage or maybe not until our children grew up. Perhaps we would never have land and we were okay with that. It was a beautiful release and it allowed us to just focus on the Lord's provision. We had space to garden, our children could walk to school, we had a wonderful church family, a bustling connect group and able to live within our means. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">About a year later we purchased a sweet cabin on half an acre in the Gulf islands with my parents. You can read about that storey <a href="https://seaurchinsadventurescontinued.blogspot.com/2018/09/we-bought-fixer-upper.html">here</a>. We spent the following year clearing land, having huge bonfires, and watching the whales at East Point. We were ridiculously content and thankful. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In July of 2019 I clicked on a link for real estate listing for the first time in over a year. I was cleaning up my email inbox when I noticed it. Within minutes I was coaxing my husband to get out out bed and look at the listing. Ordinarily he disregards them within minutes-explaining that it doesn't have the right sun exposure, that soil looks poor or that it is too close to a busy road. This time he didn't have any objections so we called a realtor that specializes in rural properties. By some miracle we were able to see the listing later that afternoon. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvHg083vhuFn0LoAPBaNK5ocEmIenmYwyxdaBGIhfEFIsIIxpQcHzNd4l116XzzwVUKcQuAqQsbZrJdkT_psG4yMLE5KQ8EEwlZOGcuRpJJNZoWdZH_AzvySg5HAyl_4qtgGN98BIP3iaY/s4800/DSC_8803.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvHg083vhuFn0LoAPBaNK5ocEmIenmYwyxdaBGIhfEFIsIIxpQcHzNd4l116XzzwVUKcQuAqQsbZrJdkT_psG4yMLE5KQ8EEwlZOGcuRpJJNZoWdZH_AzvySg5HAyl_4qtgGN98BIP3iaY/w640-h426/DSC_8803.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It was covered in blackberries, unruly gardens and garbage. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaEcPeNxn4YXlYhCnX19ABJq5bGQYDcRNpjO_xve7guGDdGsDjCK9ZENoytGJITViso7_Yesvkms2WKOSl_xMlWXj8dbm6ilXJF2VkefkZbAg2fuM4_nV_4PhAAyGA2aCI-o7EQnJI5_gl/s4800/DSC_8800.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4800" data-original-width="3200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaEcPeNxn4YXlYhCnX19ABJq5bGQYDcRNpjO_xve7guGDdGsDjCK9ZENoytGJITViso7_Yesvkms2WKOSl_xMlWXj8dbm6ilXJF2VkefkZbAg2fuM4_nV_4PhAAyGA2aCI-o7EQnJI5_gl/w266-h400/DSC_8800.JPG" width="266" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTKJOYVejQ7M8lns8tscmuS4KhA-LJwY9r4dvShAwtXgTtTAzRPGxiwo4rSsaX-sIo0wl5T7bexd0dPM6Frd7HTUXZw-bNm-OCjxhcOh4S2gWW2mBtTaQlvrzqYGMl2KQ2cYZxw4G-CreR/s4800/DSC_8802.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4800" data-original-width="3200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTKJOYVejQ7M8lns8tscmuS4KhA-LJwY9r4dvShAwtXgTtTAzRPGxiwo4rSsaX-sIo0wl5T7bexd0dPM6Frd7HTUXZw-bNm-OCjxhcOh4S2gWW2mBtTaQlvrzqYGMl2KQ2cYZxw4G-CreR/w266-h400/DSC_8802.JPG" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">By oh, the space, and the potential. I was elated. </div><div style="text-align: center;">That afternoon we were touring the house, stepping over animal feces and garbage bags when I looked back at my husband and said "it's not that bad". His face lit up in shock and delight! While it looked like a raging disaster it ticked all our wish list boxes. </div><div><div style="text-align: center;">South East exposure 🗸 Water rights to pond 🗸 Wood lot 🗸 Acreage 🗸 Home with character 🗸 Views 🗸 Maple Trees 🗸 Privacy 🗸Affordable🗸Space to garden🗸Long driveway🗸 and so many other things that only the Lord knew we wanted. We took a week to pray and then put in our offer. </div><div style="text-align: center;">They accepted. We had finally purchased our long awaited acreage. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimT9bmUUINrbv7veWXImZEn-z7ir6nZOfs6jb5vhA7EJ9p9wccmvViNmkYBB3jeYownFnTUJS7_xdN609jvJSC4GZn6ItSSuetgT767VXvwUaHJgzvnygXfHC0Aq2GdmF3IAr_JVAGOOCE/s4800/DSC_9373.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimT9bmUUINrbv7veWXImZEn-z7ir6nZOfs6jb5vhA7EJ9p9wccmvViNmkYBB3jeYownFnTUJS7_xdN609jvJSC4GZn6ItSSuetgT767VXvwUaHJgzvnygXfHC0Aq2GdmF3IAr_JVAGOOCE/w640-h426/DSC_9373.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">While renovating this fixer has not been easy, it has been such a deeply satisfying and meaningful project. We are FAR from finished and there are many aspects of our home and property that are ugly, ugly, ugly. </span>If you haven't been to our property, there are no rolling hills, picket fences or picturesque barn. Our property is primarily forest with a few clearings. In fact we don't even have a garage. The contents of our previous double car garage are stacked to the roof in my windowless bedroom. Blackberry vines threaten to consume our property if given a couple months traction.. The seals on many of our windows have have failed and thus have a "cloudy" appearance. I can count three others that have shattered but have not yet been replaced. We have the remains of a cracked cement pool in our front yard. It is typically filled with fetid water and bullfrogs. I have painted quite the idyllic picture haven't I? Don't you want to come visit? The shocking thing is that people do want to visit- especially children. They don't notice the weeds, the garbage, the unfinished projects or the defunct hot tub outside my window. *Deep breath*. They see the frolicking goats, the free range chickens, the garden over flowering with jewel toned naturisms and enormous zucchini. They see the gigantic net in the maple trees, the trails, the pond and the tadpoles. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">They see freedom and open spaces. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikVe9oX7JxT1vyUQoADGPn8lnj9fjE8PkpUD7OPXl-7A03As-2f-q9OtLfFdP9JdbHbvF6CQAsFRcOame6570xvLCH-RXkBu5hAcjMyyf5PA5MndkkO3zHAhcOcwopkB9cbcsflq49buMx/s4800/DSC_6760.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikVe9oX7JxT1vyUQoADGPn8lnj9fjE8PkpUD7OPXl-7A03As-2f-q9OtLfFdP9JdbHbvF6CQAsFRcOame6570xvLCH-RXkBu5hAcjMyyf5PA5MndkkO3zHAhcOcwopkB9cbcsflq49buMx/w640-h426/DSC_6760.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM9VUOuelBsGsPIrJ9inzOg37DrdF4mC-v1MGTk-DQgkYAeEKbwYi8kM3l7gjpe8CWtnOaTbufpSGda50tS5R0sPawMpbKYW3FuoH-I_WZY0upmjeToozBZx82hPSaFBrcQ5mOatt3sVe_/s4800/DSC_3511.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM9VUOuelBsGsPIrJ9inzOg37DrdF4mC-v1MGTk-DQgkYAeEKbwYi8kM3l7gjpe8CWtnOaTbufpSGda50tS5R0sPawMpbKYW3FuoH-I_WZY0upmjeToozBZx82hPSaFBrcQ5mOatt3sVe_/w640-h426/DSC_3511.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sometimes I have to remind myself to notice these things; to adjust my lens to see the beauty in the chaos. I joke that walk around with blinders to avoid seeing the aspects of our property that make me cranky. Other times my heart soars when I meander down the garden paths I have collected with a basket of eggs or cherry tomatoes on my arm. </div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCDSw0E404l9hZFYjBvQF_FXyrFw1PWTGSifv10vrixhJeJ3hnion0jgpLpGAzY0hyq_TD5HUtlhnIscD-7GCFV3PVDobijhC5BXzzYGRCY5Yd1E68whz1I_lC9j_K3tpYPd4uR1uTYOLv/s4800/DSC_7564.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCDSw0E404l9hZFYjBvQF_FXyrFw1PWTGSifv10vrixhJeJ3hnion0jgpLpGAzY0hyq_TD5HUtlhnIscD-7GCFV3PVDobijhC5BXzzYGRCY5Yd1E68whz1I_lC9j_K3tpYPd4uR1uTYOLv/w640-h426/DSC_7564.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHF1WOsaa9uwPnSjWcRgESjwtU6ECuipaoijgPtUfq6sB_tZoLKqqEj9jJAjuCvkUmCBUrg8A43AoyvwcZHFIVQE0ML3iiiFSfPFdp8GM-TGsBt6wqQbtKzAhl5otTCljCKbJynhSmfNlb/s4800/DSC_8059.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHF1WOsaa9uwPnSjWcRgESjwtU6ECuipaoijgPtUfq6sB_tZoLKqqEj9jJAjuCvkUmCBUrg8A43AoyvwcZHFIVQE0ML3iiiFSfPFdp8GM-TGsBt6wqQbtKzAhl5otTCljCKbJynhSmfNlb/w640-h426/DSC_8059.JPG" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sometimes the unfinished projects and piles of drywall get to me. It only takes a quick walk through our massive garden bursting with life and I am reminded of what we are doing here. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We are creating beauty together and beauty takes time. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sometimes I have to scroll through saved Instagram pictures to remind myself that I will have the wallpaper and wainscoting that my little design loving heart has always longed for. However I have to remind myself that these things are only icing on the cake and often unnecessary. What my soul needs is an unhurried life, quality meaningful time with my children, soil to cultivate and thankfulness. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbT_LalodfpBzIMILdNy9ZJ8a_PK7uIorTLhGuHhBZZrQIkCMFgZV2HtH8YOuMO6d0SFnJ-uVpNgdjZ8OY4See3WIZdgUg1GAfkS9m-vMnQ_lw4h6BW7URwKDmSfLd-cCZpToTgHb75nhC/s4800/DSC_7963.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbT_LalodfpBzIMILdNy9ZJ8a_PK7uIorTLhGuHhBZZrQIkCMFgZV2HtH8YOuMO6d0SFnJ-uVpNgdjZ8OY4See3WIZdgUg1GAfkS9m-vMnQ_lw4h6BW7URwKDmSfLd-cCZpToTgHb75nhC/w640-h426/DSC_7963.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLn9ZFgewMSokbu18-lXythM2xpL1OHCa9_pzpNwvCqzyTqPAC6azHezm_yMD4ZSvaoh73hoJkJg35lx87AD8wTdCj_FozakmWhuba-ZqNPx44-u3tdq8rwnkscpA_13C1594tK06e2gae/s4800/DSC_7979.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4800" data-original-width="3200" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLn9ZFgewMSokbu18-lXythM2xpL1OHCa9_pzpNwvCqzyTqPAC6azHezm_yMD4ZSvaoh73hoJkJg35lx87AD8wTdCj_FozakmWhuba-ZqNPx44-u3tdq8rwnkscpA_13C1594tK06e2gae/w303-h456/DSC_7979.JPG" width="303" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtfYgoB_InoOeTzNKrfgnCSG-qQOsynmSgLhFSK2xTtEw3JcmgM2LdKuCiYnAmC4o_NlGuPiEi34a-mVGjX4TXbEhWPBk_p6s201xItpwZoc53PYI_zjrtAV5bl4YrRpO8FXPau8GYj72A/s4800/DSC_7018.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4800" data-original-width="3200" height="438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtfYgoB_InoOeTzNKrfgnCSG-qQOsynmSgLhFSK2xTtEw3JcmgM2LdKuCiYnAmC4o_NlGuPiEi34a-mVGjX4TXbEhWPBk_p6s201xItpwZoc53PYI_zjrtAV5bl4YrRpO8FXPau8GYj72A/w291-h438/DSC_7018.JPG" width="291" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj66zD_TOcfvZbu8HabjU5KnQOr1k_qKHx_pspmjtOnlXeO0HfEHab1nXdrGFaXeCdqb7ZEaQoHHGfB-NL1bEsudmg77FrAjmE0uxh8YxXMJCWmF_2-RlA_FFq1DyFdWIaBYsytqdSgezy2/s4800/DSC_6858.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj66zD_TOcfvZbu8HabjU5KnQOr1k_qKHx_pspmjtOnlXeO0HfEHab1nXdrGFaXeCdqb7ZEaQoHHGfB-NL1bEsudmg77FrAjmE0uxh8YxXMJCWmF_2-RlA_FFq1DyFdWIaBYsytqdSgezy2/w640-h426/DSC_6858.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8-7cvddZK48Kis91JQmpQtB5VOUME9TB2l3AYfN_RUANSje1Exgl0t3MjaCc3FWqF6nhqJ7839Cp0mVf0_n45vPd1ntVfW7XzohhuIVPhEIJ6Ji0G65uOZLlkK3SYE8_HchxLCehVk82G/s4800/DSC_6990.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8-7cvddZK48Kis91JQmpQtB5VOUME9TB2l3AYfN_RUANSje1Exgl0t3MjaCc3FWqF6nhqJ7839Cp0mVf0_n45vPd1ntVfW7XzohhuIVPhEIJ6Ji0G65uOZLlkK3SYE8_HchxLCehVk82G/w640-h426/DSC_6990.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div></div>Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-7959867516803149072020-12-31T21:31:00.002-08:002020-12-31T21:31:51.628-08:00Wrapping up 2020<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt296MiTkbUV4weErR4kMRAnMFVNI5CHsPmtiyKFD-mguDx19tMEJ-g17w0B9LTf_HHGQxyPZHbUL4-G2eVdeHlW_-C-siwwWb06XHS4O_jCOW0zw5J5Wr3QZAJXLrwXdxDUXLtKF0PY6y/s4800/DSC_3037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4800" data-original-width="3200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt296MiTkbUV4weErR4kMRAnMFVNI5CHsPmtiyKFD-mguDx19tMEJ-g17w0B9LTf_HHGQxyPZHbUL4-G2eVdeHlW_-C-siwwWb06XHS4O_jCOW0zw5J5Wr3QZAJXLrwXdxDUXLtKF0PY6y/w426-h640/DSC_3037.JPG" width="426" /></a></div><br /> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">While some cannot wait to bid adieu to this bizarre and isolating year, I must admit it wasn't entirely horrible. The lockdown provided me a season of rest I have not experienced since the year I gave birth to my third child. Okay, I understand that statement doesn't make a lot of sense. Let me clarify. It was not restful in the sense that I got a lot of sleep, but in the sense that my life my life was unrushed and simple. It was the year that my husband took nine months paternity leave to help with our older girls while I concentrated needs of my infant son. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">I find myself in a similar season now, although my circumstances have changed remarkably. I now homeschool three children, live on acreage, work part time, have more square footage to clean, a hobby farm AND a "fixer upper", but I feel at rest.</span></div><p style="text-align: center;">I find myself wondering, why I feel rested when my life is actually more complicated that it ever has been before. Is it a mindset? Is it the pace and beauty of country life? Is it my maturing faith in God and his word? Is it that I am getting a full night of rest nearly every night and don't have to rush out the door to get my children to the bus five mornings a week? Is it the fact that I have all my children in my nest and know how they are doing and what they need at all times? Is it that I am finally cultivating the sort of home atmosphere that I have envisioned ever since I decided to have children? Is it that my husband and I have have a strong, confident love that has taken seventeen years of dying to ourselves? Is it that my work outside the home is satisfying and a continual reminder of how much I need Jesus? Is it that I finally have a "forever home" to slowly decorate as time and finances allow? Is it that I am not overcommitted and stretched to the breaking point by obligations outside my home? I really don't think it is anything specific, but rather a combination of all of the above. Life is not easy friends, it is a grind any way you slice it. However, I think there are things that we can do to ease our burdens and invite peace into our day to day toil. I live in a household of sinners and there are plenty of tears and disagreements, but there is also an abundance of love and forgiveness and togetherness. </p><p style="text-align: center;">I have no idea was 2021 holds but I am fairly confident that life will continue to get more complicated, that sorrow will be inevitable and that trials will abound. I am not searching for happiness, but rather contentment. My hope for the future lies in something so much greater than myself. He is the author and the finisher of my faith. The alpha and the omega over my circumstances and the one that weaves all the ragged and beautiful threads of my life into a beauty tapestry. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN6_GeLMfaXHEFg3E4_uRUyoY2IgOIfhyphenhyphen_Osu3XDFYtLGD_Q-dbVEu1AdLv7wRcb9wA9U-zwPkRqjTJ3tvWds-MHKqXJOvGjXrHcTLB7QQWhP4oMwxEuVzg9LAEUuNzfpgWOXt5ItW3jy9/s4800/DSC_3049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4800" data-original-width="3200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN6_GeLMfaXHEFg3E4_uRUyoY2IgOIfhyphenhyphen_Osu3XDFYtLGD_Q-dbVEu1AdLv7wRcb9wA9U-zwPkRqjTJ3tvWds-MHKqXJOvGjXrHcTLB7QQWhP4oMwxEuVzg9LAEUuNzfpgWOXt5ItW3jy9/w426-h640/DSC_3049.JPG" width="426" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLQtRvFE7kagGTwMiAPf_Uh-wxGgFNW2tHhmiCkvkbussL8TgEyHkDnl2GZEMahx63w_Xreo1Z5Q17ivx5evQD9xGVDq818rZ0NcZWXExQh-uyJEdQ0VQaBDu-ZbeLUs_7x4NnwqcKpoTE/s4800/DSC_3042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4800" data-original-width="3200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLQtRvFE7kagGTwMiAPf_Uh-wxGgFNW2tHhmiCkvkbussL8TgEyHkDnl2GZEMahx63w_Xreo1Z5Q17ivx5evQD9xGVDq818rZ0NcZWXExQh-uyJEdQ0VQaBDu-ZbeLUs_7x4NnwqcKpoTE/w426-h640/DSC_3042.JPG" width="426" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p>Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-60618982980502762682020-12-15T08:26:00.006-08:002020-12-15T08:26:46.567-08:00These days: December<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjns9aqhyphenhyphenP7y_sILGJbaTveAG5dqHHVObdxdNzMAV-yMswAnLkpnvd9TmblGeQ40gWShLHGuYFcE1XZhDXBwGMu4xBLG3i_NrYZuTl3e2QW2tGoL7kfjR283275B1R9_mL6UEr7OzyvdFvc/s4800/DSC_3565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3200" data-original-width="4800" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjns9aqhyphenhyphenP7y_sILGJbaTveAG5dqHHVObdxdNzMAV-yMswAnLkpnvd9TmblGeQ40gWShLHGuYFcE1XZhDXBwGMu4xBLG3i_NrYZuTl3e2QW2tGoL7kfjR283275B1R9_mL6UEr7OzyvdFvc/w640-h426/DSC_3565.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"> <b>Listening</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">To Kari Jobe’s new album<a href="https://www.premierproductions.com/blog/kari-jobe-new-album-album-watch-party">“Rest”</a>on repeat. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Reading </b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Come-Let-Adore-Him-Devotional/dp/1433556693">"Come Let us Adore Him</a>" by Paul David Tripp</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/9214531-one-year-chronological-bible-nlt">One Year Chronological Bible</a>. I am nearly finished reading the whole bible in the order in which it was written and it is been so POWERFUL! This unique viewpoint allows you to read the whole Bible as a single story and to see the unfolding of God's plan in history. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.alisachilders.com/anothergospel.html">"Another Gospel: a lifelong Christian seeks truth in response to progressive Christianity"" </a>by Alisha</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.ca/How-Should-We-Then-Live/dp/1581345364">"How Should We Then Live: The rise and decline of western thought and culture"</a>. by Francis A Sheffer</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Madness-Crowds-Gender-Race-Identity/dp/1635579988">"The Madness of Crowds: Gender Race and Identity"</a> by Murray Douglas</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Color-Compromise-American-Churchs-Complicity/dp/0310597269">The Color of Compromise: The truth about the American churches complicity in racism"</a>. Jemar Tisby</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/42078805-the-call-of-the-wild-and-free">"Wild and Free: Reclaiming wonder in your child's education."</a> by Ainsley Arment</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Thinking </b></p><p style="text-align: center;">About how the pandemic is going to effect our future global economy, politics and freedom. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Currently</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">Purging my house of necessary clutter and putting everything I want to keep into labeled totes. Yesss! </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Learning</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">All about the human body with my children. We are so wonderfully made! </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Reading </b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.ebay.ca/i/233642995661?chn=ps&norover=1&mkevt=1&mkrid=706-159614-043509-9&mkcid=2&itemid=233642995661&targetid=4586612757818996&device=c&mktype=&googleloc=&poi=&campaignid=392504307&mkgroupid=1328211146402574&rlsatarget=pla-4586612757818996&abcId=9300423&merchantid=136822&msclkid=52ef2fd494281150d1c9700c757895a6">“The Nutcracker”</a> by ETA Hoffmann to my children. It’s an older addition and I often have stop and explain various words, but hopefully it is stretching their vocabulary. We found this book on the app S<a href="https://www.scribd.com/subscribe-now?utm_medium=cpc&utm_source=bing_search&utm_campaign=Bing_Search_Beta_Brand_Other&utm_term=%2Bscribd%20%2Bcom&utm_device=c&msclkid=8d1f4bc794511c643f4d141f759a4e38">cribed</a>. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Memorizing</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">The verse “ For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given. The government shall be on his shoulders and He shall be called wonderful counselling, mighty God, everlasting father, prince of peace”.</p><p style="text-align: center;"> - Isaiah 9:6</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Dreaming </b></p><p style="text-align: center;">Of ways to make our dusty , cluttered, unfinished basement living room cozy and functional</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Baking</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">Butter tarts, coconut clusters, German cinnamon stars and chocolate dipped hazelnut cookies.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Planning</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">On transitioning to only working one day a week in the new year.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Longing </b></p><p style="text-align: center;">To have my favorite people over for tea, treats and good conversation. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-62798372854645158272020-06-02T12:58:00.001-07:002020-06-02T12:58:29.543-07:00These Days: June<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiXepqYS0pEJ1LUgBOUVMKBW3wkT5sdidK-FsZzr8-s6uX9m2hvyn6Ur2JztQvkPXiaDIc4JPOKLjs8jNCO9Ol5Ola_YOqWhYn2j145HkOsCwjdVXdAJ3WXQy4xNjW6ttfNhHIqmJjCJMA/s1600/DSC_1471.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiXepqYS0pEJ1LUgBOUVMKBW3wkT5sdidK-FsZzr8-s6uX9m2hvyn6Ur2JztQvkPXiaDIc4JPOKLjs8jNCO9Ol5Ola_YOqWhYn2j145HkOsCwjdVXdAJ3WXQy4xNjW6ttfNhHIqmJjCJMA/s1600/DSC_1471.JPG" /></a></div>
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<b>Listening</b></div>
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To<a href="https://www.emilybrimlow.com/"> Emily Brimlow</a> on Spotify and <a href="https://goodpodcast.net/podcast/1499566932/homemaker-chic">Farmhouse Chic</a> on Podcast. </div>
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<b>Reading</b></div>
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<a href="https://www.homeschoolbravely.com/">Homeschooling Bravely</a> by Jamie Erickson</div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Art-HomeMaking-Alison-May-ebook/dp/B010QE0TSW">The Art of Homemaking</a> by Alison May</div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Full-Food-Jesus-Battle-Satisfaction-ebook/dp/B01J4VMG3E">FULL</a> by Asheritah Ciuciu</div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.ca/One-Year-Chronological-Bible-NLT/dp/1414314086">One year Chronological Bible</a> ( currently in Proverbs)</div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Last-Child-Woods-Publisher-Algonquin/dp/B004TE2KK6/ref=sr_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=Last+Child+in+the+Woods&qid=1591037817&s=books&sr=1-2">Last Child in the Woods</a> by Richard Louv</div>
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<b>Reading to my children</b></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Opal-Wheeler-Sybil-Deucher/dp/B01N9LKMHW/ref=sr_1_fkmr0_1?dchild=1&keywords=mozart%3A+the+wonder+boy+by+opal+wheeler+%26+sybil+douche&qid=1591038008&s=books&sr=1-1-fkmr0">Mozart: The Wonder Boy by Opal Wheeler & Sybil Deucher</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Ocean-Anatomy-Curious-Parts-Pieces/dp/1635861608/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=Ocean+Anatomy&qid=1591037910&s=books&sr=1-1">Ocean Anatomy</a> by Julia Rothman</div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.ca/How-Great-Our-God-Indescribable/dp/1400215528/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=How+Great+is+our+God&qid=1591037944&s=books&sr=1-1">How Great is our God</a> by Louie Giglio</div>
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<b>Eating </b></div>
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Sourdough toast with farm fresh fried eggs</div>
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<b>Ordering</b></div>
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Watercolour books for the girls and I. Hoping to do lots of painting and note-booking over the summer.</div>
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<b>Listening </b></div>
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to fascinating discussions on the Dave Rubin show, and speeches by apologist <a href="https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Ravi+Zachariah%E2%80%99s">Ravi Zachariah</a> </div>
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<b>Cuddling</b> </div>
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My favorite chicken Pippin. </div>
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<b>Trying</b></div>
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To wake up up before 7:30. It’s SO hard to motivate myself. </div>
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<b>Longing</b></div>
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To spend some time learning how to play some worship songs. I have to relearn how to play so many chords that I have forgotten. </div>
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<b>Hoping</b> </div>
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To start using a book called <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/40680099-cook-once-eat-all-week">Cook Once, Eat All Week by Cassy Joy Garcia.</a></div>
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Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-36515701411347643142020-04-18T14:04:00.002-07:002020-04-18T14:04:39.950-07:00Nature Journalling<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Just wanted to share a few photos from a nature journaling session we had the other day. </div>
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Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-54144111837777104202020-04-18T13:35:00.002-07:002020-04-18T14:01:40.649-07:00Making room<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I thought it might be pertinent to share a post I wrote some time
ago - especially in light of all that has transpired in the past couple of
weeks. I initially wrote this blog post in November when I felt the
Lord beginning to speak to me about homeschooling my children. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I thought I would share a few of my journal entries and give you a
peek into the internal dilemma I was having during that time.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">November 15th, 2019</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><i>"While painting our walls I was listening to a podcast
called <a href="https://courageousparenting.com/">"Courageous Parenting"</a>. Every single podcast
challenges me to disciple my children from a biblical perspective. While I have
not listened to all the episodes listened on their webpage, I have intentionally
avoided one entitled<b> “11 Reasons Why We Home School Despite Initial Doubts”</b>. My initial thought was "NOPE I am done with that chapter in my life. I did my
time"! I knew that if I listened to what they had to say, I would
agree with them. When I finally had to guts to push play, my suspicions proved correct. Oh help me Lord!"</i></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><i></i></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">November 20th, 2019</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><i>"I am often astonished at how much work is required to get everyone out
the door at an appropriate time. I start the day at five am and feel as though
there is heaps of time only to find myself breathing deeply when Levi is
playing with his digger in the mud instead of buckling himself into his car
seat. Lunches, socks, breakfast, hair, shoes, teeth, car seats, (deep
breath), squabbling in the car, untied shoes, and a forgotten backpack. I
drop the children off at the bus stop, smooch them goodbye and apologize if I
raised my voice. Afterwards I typically cry out of pure frustration or relief
that I survived another morning. I then listen to REALLY loud worship music on my
commute into work. I arrive at work wearing my big girl heels and suit and breath a sigh
of relief as I settle into my work chair armed with a hot cup of coffee. Did I
mention that I get to sit? All day. I also get to think without being interrupted AND take an hour
long lunch break. It's almost wrong that I get paid to do something that I am
good at. In light of what I just wrote, it is ludicrous that that I am
entertaining the prospect of homeschooling my children next fall - all three of
them! I think that I am insane! </i></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">December 15th, 2019</span></div>
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<i><span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">"I just dropped my kids off at the bus stop a few minutes ago and now I am
sitting here with a cup of cold tea in hand, writing out a list of reasons why
I should home school my children. My heart is in my throat. The very thought of
being responsible for all three of my children’s education makes me want to
burst into tears. It makes me want to slump against a wall and wail.
However, long ago I committed my life to serving the Lord. I told Him
that when he called me to something, I would obey. I want to live a life that
is Christ led, not self led. I do however want quiet, space, time to pursue
my hobbies, interests ect. I thought this was my year. I thought that I had
“arrived”. All three children in school, Hallelujah! The first two months were
all I had hoped that they would be: I worked, grocery shopped, helped my hubby
renovate our fixer upper and even started trail running again- all without
children underfoot with their relentless requests and interruptions. Bliss! I
started to imagine all the things I could do once spring arrived. I was
enjoying leading moms’ group and finally had time to adequately prepared for
our discussions."</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">One day I was having a rare day home alone when I to the
song <a href="https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=make+room+by+jonathan+mcreynolds&docid=608012638302437533&mid=AE2BA0258F800F0A186CAE2BA0258F800F0A186C&view=detail&FORM=VIRE">"Make Room"</a> by Jonathan McReynolds. I had a huge realization: If
I truly believe in God, believe that he knows what is best for our family and
children, then who am I to question what He is asking me to do. If I believe
that God calls us to instruct our children in His ways then I need to step out
in faith and obey. When my faith is nothing more than theory, it isn't worth
much. It's easy to say "trust God" until He actually asks you to sacrifice something you value. I realized that I believe in ETERNITY that sacrificing a few years of my life to educate my children is an investment that could have eternal significance. It could be the difference between them choosing to serve God or not. </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;">I realized that I </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">must MAKE ROOM for what is truly IMPORTANT and stop filling my life with what I think is important.</span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I want to raise my children to KNOW the word of God, to store up scripture in their hearts, to see their parents live out their faith on an hourly basis, and to KNOW their purpose in life. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Proverbs 22:6 says "Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will not depart from it". </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> I REALLY struggled with my
decision to register Levi for school last summer. I KNEW school would be a
challenge for him as I suspect that he has ADHD. I had initially
planned to keep Claire home for another year and teach Levi kindergarten but I
chickened out. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t believe that
every mom should home school.</span><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> I hold an
intense respect and awe for mom's who have chosen to but I also feel sorry
for them. No breaks, no downtime, and SO MUCH PLANNING!!! While it sounds
daunting I </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">do believe that if the Lord calls you
to something, you need to obey. All sorts of interesting thoughts had
been sloshing around in my heart and mind when I finally decided to listen to
the podcast.<i> </i></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Everything started to shift when I received my first call from the
principal’s office a couple weeks ago. My son had kicked another student.
From there his behavior continued to spiral out of control. My despair
over his violent behavior began to pull me into depression. I started to
dread going to the school as the prospect of being seen as the mother of a
bully. I began keeping Levi home on the days I didn’t have to work and focused
on spending quality time with him. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My eldest daughter began experiencing bullying on the school
bus and lost count of how many times she had been sworn at my a group of older
boys after she stood up to them. She expressed frustration over being in a 4/5
split and not being challenged enough. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Claire is the only one who currently LOVES school.
Homeschooling her last year was HARD but not as hard as I thought it would be.
While I struggled, I managed t bring her up to grade level in most subjects. We
had to start at the basics and re-learn everything she had been taught. I
remember how painful it was for her to write out the alphabet and numbers 1-100
when we first started. Now she loves multiplying numbers. I am, however,
concerned that she has a learning disability as her reading and writing are
significantly delayed. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In addition to all of the above I found myself becoming more and
more frustrated with some of the things my children were being taught at
school. I had to write a letter to the school to excuse my children from
participating in yoga after discovering that it was something that they were exposed
to on a regular basis. I kept it short and sweet and to the point. I find it so
interesting that the school would incorporate ancient Hindu philosophy <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and advocate <a href="https://www.dictionary.com/browse/yoga?s=t">“union with the Supreme Being” </a>when singing about baby Jesus at a Winter school
concert is no longer considered appropriate. Furthermore, I have issue with the <a href="https://www.sogieducation.org/"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>SOCI curriculum</span></a>
the school district is using. While I am passionate about treating people with
dignity and respect I do not want my children being indoctrinated to believe
that people can choose their gender based on their feelings. *Sigh* </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "bookman old style" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Nevertheless, I said “yes” to the Lord and started to research curriculum,
not knowing when he ask me to pull them out of school. I assumed that I would
let them finish the school year and then begin the fallowing fall. I began to
get really excited about a curriculum written by Rebecca Spooner. She is a RCMP
member’s wife (like me), a Christian and prescribes to the Charlotte Mason theory
of educating children. She created a fantastic curriculum called <a href="https://gatherroundhomeschool.com/">Gather Round</a> which allows families to learn together. I decided to order one of her unit studies to try out
with my children over the Spring Break. I thought that it would be wise to see
how it worked for our family so that I could look for alternatives if it didn't. I ordered the North American birds unit just before
Spring break and it arrived the day before the school announced that they would
be closed for an indefinite period of time. My heart nearly exploded with
gratitude that the Lord had prepared my heart in advance. God is good!</span></div>
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Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-59308395547533124512020-01-16T11:13:00.001-08:002020-01-16T11:16:48.253-08:00Currently: January<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn8U1bZ1dDwI67VqkW5LiXGkQrPxztVh6LHpiZBWfIjDGqLTUSKHptpRITtsZfjaxmi5JuVhaPeakCopzkCQxJdbsnBouNZfEzEyVfKp2wmronENj9hyphenhyphentMb_CiK3rHWm4BVZ9kXflYWCNu/s1600/DSC_0728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn8U1bZ1dDwI67VqkW5LiXGkQrPxztVh6LHpiZBWfIjDGqLTUSKHptpRITtsZfjaxmi5JuVhaPeakCopzkCQxJdbsnBouNZfEzEyVfKp2wmronENj9hyphenhyphentMb_CiK3rHWm4BVZ9kXflYWCNu/s1600/DSC_0728.JPG" /></a></div>
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<b>Loving </b></div>
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the fact that our recent snowfall pushed pause on life. My little one is sick with the flu but we have still managed to enjoy the snow to the fullest extent. </div>
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<b>Thinking</b></div>
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About garden design and what plants I want to grow. It's a long way off, but I can't help but daydream. I have started hacking blackberry bushes around the area we intend to use as our garden. Hopefully in February we will purchase some piglets and allow them to turn the soil over and clear the underbrush in that area. </div>
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<b>Reading</b></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Mama-Bear-Apologetics-Cultural-Swallowing/dp/0736976159/ref=sr_1_1?crid=NJHYKIS93Y2E&keywords=mama+bear+apologetics&qid=1579200251&sprefix=mamma+bear+apol%2Caps%2C208&sr=8-1">Mamma Bear Apologetics: Empowering Your Kids to Challenge Cultural Lies</a>, <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Hold-Your-Kids-Parents-Matter/dp/0307361969/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Hold+onto+your+kids&qid=1579200282&sr=8-1">Hold On To Your Kids: Why Parents Need To Matter More Than Peers</a>, <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Jesus-I-Never-Knew/dp/031021923X/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1LJR7S8ZO37Q3&keywords=the+jesus+i+never+knew&qid=1579200430&sprefix=the+jesus+I+never+knew%2Caps%2C207&sr=8-1">The Jesus I Never Knew</a>, <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Teaching-Rest-MacKenzie-Sarah/dp/1600512879/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=teaching+from+rest&qid=1579200371&sr=8-1">Teaching From Rest: A Homeschoolers Guide to Unshakable Peace,</a> <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Introverted-Mom-Guide-Guilt-Quiet/dp/0310354978/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Introvert+mom&qid=1579200453&s=digital-skills&sr=8-1">Introvert Mom: Your Guide to More Calm, Less Guilt and Quiet Joy,</a> <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Brave-Learner-Everyday-Homeschool-Learning/dp/0143133225/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2481MLQQ74Y0W&keywords=the+brave+learner&qid=1579200515&sprefix=The+Brave+Lear%2Caps%2C202&sr=8-1">The Brave Learner: Finding Everyday Magic in Homeschool, Learning and Life</a> & <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Home-Management-Simple-Kim-Brenneman/dp/0998610100/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2B8RM94X28H6M&keywords=home+management+plain+and+simple&qid=1579200563&sprefix=home+management%3Aplain+%2Calexa-skills%2C209&sr=8-1">Home Management: Plain and Simple.</a></div>
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<b>Watching </b></div>
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YouTube channels: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCeTb9FxZIbLSCbdn-lxqBnQ"> Homeschool On</a>: She provides in depth curriculum reviews as well as honest views on the challenges and joys of homeschooling. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCTZN3HhejW1tOiRdLGUCGGA">Roots and Refuge</a>: Mamma of many and gardening extraordinaire. </div>
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<b>Continuing </b></div>
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to feed my family with only one element, a crock pot and a rice cooker. I have my eye on an Insta- Pot. I think it would make life a whole lot easier!</div>
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<b>Aspiring</b></div>
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to start working out in a space I recently carved out in our current storage room. I want to complete the 100 workout challenge I found on my <a href="https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.beachbody.bod&hl=en_CA">Beach Body</a> app. We recently moved our belongings from our storage unit into a steel bin on our property. During the move I managed to locate my weights and recently acquired squat rack. I still have to convince my husband to put it together. </div>
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<b>Appreciating</b></div>
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the fact that my husband has a myriad of skills that allow him to renovate our home. It keeps our costs low and gives us the opportunity to work and dream together. Progress might feel glacial at times but I just keep reminding myself that "little by little" gets the job done. </div>
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Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-14143624745222168892019-11-28T12:35:00.002-08:002019-11-28T12:35:52.249-08:00These Days: November<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXSBhbBR5BYrsDk6kEoCqavRslKivWE11pDJBFm_CctdoThBEZDZsUE4hRpAUI9yESfv3vdw_jtrKIODWPIyeuq6XX1JCLKFJpHSoMH9lHexPwLWDO1BUnrwWynL_Im7Zvsyakj_bzE62D/s1600/DSC_9908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXSBhbBR5BYrsDk6kEoCqavRslKivWE11pDJBFm_CctdoThBEZDZsUE4hRpAUI9yESfv3vdw_jtrKIODWPIyeuq6XX1JCLKFJpHSoMH9lHexPwLWDO1BUnrwWynL_Im7Zvsyakj_bzE62D/s1600/DSC_9908.JPG" /></a></div>
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<b>Singing </b></div>
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<a href="https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=+anchor+by+skillet&view=detail&mid=CE1F526D6CE741F5690BCE1F526D6CE741F5690B&FORM=VIRE0">"Anchor"</a> by Skillet at the top of my lungs</div>
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<b>Longing</b></div>
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to have a space to work out in and the energy to make it happen</div>
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<b>Hoping</b></div>
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to have a stove and a semblance of a kitchen by Christmas</div>
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<b>Enjoying</b></div>
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my new wool mason jar sleeve</div>
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<b>Trying</b> </div>
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to wake up at 5am</div>
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<b>Wearing</b> </div>
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my vintage Givenchy jacket, pencil skirt and tom ankle boots</div>
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<b>Eating</b></div>
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way too much popcorn, chips, and hummus in the evenings</div>
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<b>Watching</b></div>
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The Crown and Elliot </div>
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<b>Listening</b></div>
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to podcasts by <a href="https://courageousparenting.com/episodes/">Courageous Parenting</a> and apologist <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8EqH4pslfwo">Ravi Zacharias</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8EqH4pslfwo">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8EqH4pslfwo</a></div>
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Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-9319521008835539112019-11-09T10:02:00.001-08:002019-11-10T07:12:52.635-08:00The Lord's Farm<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj023EE-dr2Jt-uvvraZ0grV5BlrNg3TtK6QnfkmWxUalobEoPUVjdhuSqAoRg_FnO1HJEPwA4GBU2o-GDCi3JiW1AfVTV64bjQ9Na6xBwka2DtpNBVBqRn7qY42nuWJHoRoOSFaxx_nXzi/s1600/DSC_9895.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj023EE-dr2Jt-uvvraZ0grV5BlrNg3TtK6QnfkmWxUalobEoPUVjdhuSqAoRg_FnO1HJEPwA4GBU2o-GDCi3JiW1AfVTV64bjQ9Na6xBwka2DtpNBVBqRn7qY42nuWJHoRoOSFaxx_nXzi/s1600/DSC_9895.JPG" /></a><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></div>
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A little glimpse of the place we are learning to call home. Sometimes when I am walking the children to and from the school I catch my breath in wonder that our dreams have finally been realized. </div>
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Owning acreage is something that Nathaniel and I have dreamt of for over 16 years. This will be the fourth home that Nathaniel and I have owned, and while I don't think it will be our last, we plan to make this our home for the foreseeable future. We are thankful that our kids are young enough to enjoy the adventure of transforming our land into something that we can all enjoy for many years to come. </div>
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Our upstairs is still largely unfinished, partially because we have been stockpiling firewood for the winter ahead. When its not raining, we find ourselves, hiking, meandering down to the pond, or working on the goat shed. </div>
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For the first time in my life I intend to paint everything white. I am dreaming of shiplap, painted cabinets and a breakfast nook. The pee soaked carpets been removed and Nathaniel and recently ripped out the existing kitchen. We now have some drywalling to do, subfloor to replace and floors to install. I am going to be giddy when the first section of flooring is installed.</div>
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Our land may not like much as it is heavily forested and irregularly shaped, but it is ours and it is full of potential. </div>
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This is the view from the other side of our pond. We are oping to transform this blackberry, scrub infested section of land into sheep pasture. I envision a little dock here with a rowboat and a willow tree.</div>
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Nathaniel is exciting about harvesting some of the mature trees on our land for lumber. Whenever I spot a tree like this I whisper a little morbidly - you are going to be a deck some day :0) </div>
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Bushwhacking is something I have always enjoyed. Growing up in Tahsis I didn't have access to all the programs that children in the city do. So instead of being shuffled around in a minivan to various programs, my sister and I would spend hours hiking in the wood behind our home. I think it developed a sense of adventure, confidence and curiosity. Armed with a buck knife and a coil of rope, we felt invincible. I love that I am going to be able to give my girls a similar childhood. </div>
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While aspects of our property are beautiful, others are an eyesore. We have a few derelict sheds on the property, our deck is disintegrating off the front of our house, blackberries have infested the area where our garden will one day be and the doors all need to be refinished. Thankfully the structure of our home is sound. While the roof has a bit of moss, it relatively new. </div>
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What used to be a swimming pool is now an ivy infested hole in the ground filled with bulrushes. </div>
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Needless to say we have had a lot of burn piles and have filled an entire DBL bin full of garbage. </div>
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I have managed to clear the majority of brambles off our home but I think we will be clearing blackberry bushes for years to come. </div>
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As I sit here and write I can hear an excavator hard at work fixing our pot hole ridden driveway. One project at a time, one day at a time. </div>
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Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-21492210405875701722018-12-16T15:37:00.005-08:002018-12-24T07:30:43.263-08:002018 Cristmas Letter<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Dear Friends & Family,</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
I feel like this is a fairly accurate snapshot of our crazy family, mismatched socks and all. <span style="font-family: "calibri";">I don’t know about you, but it feels like each year gets
busier that the last and I find myself trying to determine what I can cut out. I wish that I had the time and energy to write each and everyone of you a personalized note. I appreciate each and every card and photograph that I have received.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 13.33px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">It has been a year of unexpected
surprises. In September, after much agonizing consideration, I decided to homeschool Claire. </span><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> I had been considering the
possibility for some time, as grade 1 had been immensely challenging for her. I am so thankful
that homeschooling is going better than I expected. Being responsible for her academic education feels like a BIG responsibility. </span></div>
A<span style="font-family: "calibri";">nother surprise was purchasing a cabin on the gulf island
of Saturna. Many of you are aware that we have been actively searching for
acreage for the past two years but for one reason of another were not able to
find what we wanted. A 650sqft fixer upper practically fell into our laps
during a visit with my brother and sister in law, who happen to own a cabin on the
land next to ours. We purchased the ½ acre after a week of considering the pros
and cons. We invited my parents to purchase the property with us and got it for
well under asking price. We were thrilled to discover that the appliances
worked despite the fact that the cabin hadn’t been occupied in over 15 years. It has become such a source of joy for us. Not just because the scenery
of Saturna island is breathtaking, but because it provides us with an excuse to
have quality time together away from the hustle and bustle of our lives in the
city. We have already spotted whales, numerous owls , deer and raccoons. We look forward to updating it and making many precious memories there. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Nathaniel took Amelia for a hunt earlier this fall and
managed to shoot a four point buck with his bow. They were beyond thrilled.
Amelia captured the whole experience on the go pro she found<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>snorkling in the river earlier this summer.
Amelia continues to blow us away with her passion for writing and drawing. She
has recently become very passionate about preserving the environment and recycling . She is playing soccer again this year and looks forward to raising a goat this
year with 4H. I can’t believe she is already wearing a size nine and can almost steal my
shoes!</span> <span style="font-family: "calibri";">Claire seems so much more confident, creative and talkative these days. She continues
to be passionate about gymnastics and is enjoying learning all about bunnies in
the hopes that she will get one in the new year. </span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Levi has become incessantly chatty although we don’t always
understand what he is saying. He is obsessed with motor bikes and monster
trucks and I know it is only<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>a matter of
time before I am living at the BMX track. He still keeps me on my toes and get up to all sorts of trouble. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I am continuing to work as a Victim Services case worker at
the RCMP detachment two days<span style="margin: 0px;"> a </span>week. I
find the work meaningful and it gives me the chance to actually sit down.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I am continuing to lead a mom’s group and Nate and I are still leading a connect group one evening a week. Sometimes I think we
are crazy but doing so makes it possible to pour into the lives of others in a
meaningful way. I hope this letter find you well. Merry Christmas! May you experience the love of Jesus in profound and life changing ways. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><br /></span>
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Love the Lord Family!</div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br /></span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-family: "calibri";"></span></div>
Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4001369562322619458.post-41058462840123932842018-12-10T07:01:00.003-08:002018-12-17T21:44:44.359-08:00Who do you say that I am?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">There is something about this time of year that makes people raw and aware. For families that are struggling, the Christmas season intensifies the preexisting rifts and turns them into chasms. For those struggling pay check to pay check, the pressure to provide gifts becomes a burden that decimates their finances. Christmas has become a incredible source of stress for mothers across north America as we have become obsessed with making Christmas "magical"? Why? Its completely ridiculous and yet it is something I have certainly fallen prey to over the years. There is this expectation that you will have a gift for everyone, bake homemade goodies, cook a fantastic Christmas dinner, attend all the Christmas parties with well dressed, well mannered children in tow, attend the wince inducing Christmas recitals and write handmade cards. It is all TOO MUCH! Why, why do we do this to ourselves? Sometimes I feel like all of it is just a distraction from remembering that this is time of year we remember and celebrate the birth of Jesus, whether it took place in December or not. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Last night when I was putting the girls to bed the conversation turned to "Santa Clause" as it naturally does at this time of year. They wanted to know why parents told their children that Santa Clause was real when he wasn't. I began by explaining that Santa Clause is based on the historical figure, Saint Nicolas; patron saint of Children. I explained that he was a Greek Bishop who did in fact exist and that he gave gifts to children. As a family with Dutch heritage, we refer to him as we called him Sinterklass. We typically enjoy some tea and ginger cookies and exchange a few gifts on December 6th. I explained that the "Santa Clause" they see in the malls and on TV has was designed by coco- cola for marketing purposes and that he bears little resemblance to the historical figure. I went on to explain that we don't need to believe in Santa to make Christmas "magical". The history of Christ's birth is more magical than anything we could contrive. It is the greatest love storey ever told.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">I find it so interesting that the storey of Christ's birth is often depicted in dreamy, muted tones, when in fact it was a situation fraught with desperation. </span>I have been reading the book "The Jesus I Never Knew" by Phillip Yancy and it provides such a harrowing, raw account of the birth of Jesus.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> <i> "Mary, an unwed mother, homeless, was forced to look for shelter while traveling to meet the heavy taxation demands of a colonial government. She lived in a land recovering from violent civil wars and still in turmoil- a situation much like that in modern Bosnia, Rwanda or Somalia. Like half of the mothers who deliver today, she gave birth in Asia, in its far western corner, the part of the world that would prove to least receptive to the son she bore. That son became a refugee in Africa, the continent where most refugees can still be found"</i>. - Philip Yancy</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I often find it outrageous and laughable when Jesus is depicted as "white" or Christianity is depicted as a "white faith". The opposite could not be more true. Christianity is not a faith for the proud, the accomplished, self sufficient, selfish or entitled. It is a faith for the underdogs of society. The Bible shows us that growing up, Jesus sensibilities were effected most deeply by the poor, the powerless, and the oppressed". Not only that, He <i>"<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-size: 16px; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">arranged the circumstances in which to be born on planet earth -without power, without wealth, without rights, without justice - his preferential options speak for themselves. </span>He emerged in Palestine as a baby who could not speak or eat solid food or control his bladder, who depended on a teenager for shelter, food and love." No only that, "the God who came to earth came not in a raging whirlwind nor a devouring fire. Unimaginably, the Maker of all things shrank down, down, down, down so small as to become an ovum, a single fertilized egg barely visible to the human eye, an egg that divide and re divided until a fetus took shape, enlarging cell by cell inside a nervous teenager."</i> - Phillip Yancy</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">A man by the name of Malcom Muggerridge explains that: <i>"It is possible that , in our day, with family planning clinics offering convenient ways to current "mistakes" that might disgrace a family name, It is, in point of fact, extremely improbably , under existing conditions, that Jesus would not have been permitted to be born at all. Mary's pregnancy, in poor circumstances, and with the father unknown, would have been an obvious case for abortion; and her talk of having conceived as a result of an intervention of the holy ghost would have pointed to the need for psychiatric treatment, and made the case for terminating her pregnancy even stronger. Thus our generation, needing a saviour more, perhaps, than any other that has ever existed, would be too humane to allow one to be born".</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">So here we are 2,000 years later, still celebrating the birth of this fragile infant. W<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">hatever you believe about it, the birth of Jesus was so important that it split history into two parts. Everything that has ever happened on this planet falls into a category of before or after Christ. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">And He asks us, "Who do you say that I am"?</span></div>
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Jocelyn Lordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03123026747694583511noreply@blogger.com1