Merry Time in the Maritimes: Silhouette or Soul?

When I think of the word story, I think of grand adventures, magical kingdoms, brave knights and maidens, courageous 'nobodies' and triumphant underdogs. There are endless possibilities and plots all with their own twists, hardships and joys. I've always loved stories. I don't remember a time I didn't enjoy flipping through the pages of a book, or hearing the tales of my mother's childhood on the farm, or the adventures of my dad's boyhood along the canals of the Netherlands. Throughout my own young youth, I was always pulling new books off the shelf, anxious to immerse myself into the the lives of others. It was on those pages that new friendships developed, adventures were had and lessons were learned. As I encountered stories,  I was privileged to view the world from other's perspectives and experiences, whether I was aware of this at the time or not. It was the stories, both written in black ink or simply spoken, that had a part in forming me, my interests, my imagination and how I interacted with people.

Story time with dad and the sibs back in '93

As I entered adulthood, my intrigue for understanding and knowing someone did not end with characters in a story. It is how I began interacting with the people around me, I longed to understand their story. Whether it be the cashier at the grocery store, the man on the bench at the mall, or an old or new friend; my curiosity in knowing their story was there. I often asked myself, who are they? what brought them here and what or who are they striving to become? It's through an individual's story that we can discover answers to such questions. It's through someone's story that we can encounter an understanding of where they've come from and why they are the way they are. It's through their story that we're able to see who they really are. I know this from experiencing it unfolding in my relationships  with other's as I've listened to theirs stories, but also from personal experience. It's through the crafting of my own story that I began to understand the depth of myself and becoming aware of what has shaped me into me. All of it - the good, the bad, the ugly. Every part of my story has value and impact within my character.

There is such great value in knowing our human story - individually as well as collectively. There is value in the crafting of the story, the sharing of the story and the listening of the story. In the crafting we may find healing and understanding for ourselves. In the sharing we may find further healing in addition to a sense of being loved and known. And in the listening, we are privileged to be considered trustworthy to become privy to the depth of another's being; as we may also understand the other further, learn from their experiences, and be inspired by their story. Without knowing or hearing our stories, we may only know as much as our silhouettes, but there is so much more to the human being than this. From which I've come to conclude: stories are a window into the human soul. Stories are not something to ignore or forget, rather they should be encouraged and embraced. They should be carefully crafted and told and retold; just as importantly, they should be listened to, again and again. Learn from each other, understand one another, inspire one another. Know your story, share your story and know the stories of others.

Know more than the Silhouette, Know the Soul
Campobello Island,  2013

Country Living: Patient Trust

Patience, for me, has never been a natural virtue. From the time I was little to now, waiting is one of my most dreaded activities. It can be understandable then, that waiting upon the Lord, is one of the most challenging things I encounter. Currently, I am in a transitional stage, a waiting stage, a processing and discerning stage; a stage I would so love to fast forward. I would much prefer to know, for certain, what is at the other end. So much so, that if the opportunity arose that I could skip ahead, I may not even bat an eye at jumping forward. But here's where I need to take a step back (yes, back…I used that word….). I need to stop, breathe in, and look around me. Look around at the process that is unfolding, ever so slowly. It is here that the real beauty is found, the forming, shaping and preparation for the "what's next." It is here that my inward and outward changes, ever so subtle, are taking place;  I need to be attentive to these. To be intentional about always seeking knowledge, wisdom and insights. It's here that I must attend to my own thoughts and processes rather than brush them aside. I need to allow them to percolate, brew and then set. 

It is here where I am growing, forming and becoming the woman the potter's hands are forming. Clay is shaped, dried and then fired in a kiln. It's the process in the Kiln that visual evidence isn't as obvious, an already formed pot must sit in the heat for hours after hours, to complete the process. Hardening, drying and chemical reactions evolve, while a slow change in colour may also appear. The heat enables the particles to melt and flow together so as it may set. This time in the kiln is life's transitional stages. The slow processes that are necessary for solid and beautiful outcomes. 

Without the process, the potential for such depth in beauty, wisdom, heart and soul would be lacking. 

This is what the below prayer is reminding me of. Patience in the process, and patience in the work of the Lord. Furthermore, TRUST; trust that He is working, trust that He is forming, trust that He is leading. The how and where are still unknown, but I must stand rooted in that trust, with my eyes turned towards Him. I must accept and embrace the anxieties that come along with this process with a trusting, faithful and prayerful heart.

May this prayer also be a reminder for you to

trust in the work of the potter, 

be ever so patient in the kiln

and know that beauty and growth takes time. 

You'll get there, because He'll get you there!

Patient Trust

Above all, trust in the slow work of God.

We are quite naturally impatient in everything

to reach the end without delay.

We would like to skip the intermediate stages

We are impatient of being on the way to something

  unknown, something new.

And yet, it is the law of all progress

  that it is made by passing through

some stages of instability

and that it may take a very long time.

And so I think it is with you;

your ideas mature gradually -

let them grow, let them shape themselves, without undue haste.

Don't try to force them on,

as though you could be today what time,

(that is to say, grace and circumstances acting on your own good will)

will make of you tomorrow.

Only God could say what this new spirit

gradually forming in you will be.

Give our Lord the benefit of believing

that his hand is leading you,

and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself in suspense and incomplete.

- Teilhard de Chardin, SJ -

1881 - 1955, Jesuit palaeontologist, French philosopher, Priest

The Chronicles of Sarnia: Always Packing, Never Settling

I've constantly been on the move for the last 4 1/2 years; back and forth from New Brunswick to Ontario and through out the world. I have lived in many places, packed and unpacked many bags and bins, lugged my belongs across the country, from country to country, and continent to continent. It has been incredible, amazing and often inexplicable. It is a good thing the heart continues to expand, because I've continually been leaving pieces of mine behind with the various places and people I've encountered (how cheesy can I get here?!) The last few months I've spent in “The Chronicles of Sarnia” has been yet another adventure, yet another place that has captured my heart (oops, still cheesy, but still true). Through my time in Sarnia, I've expanded my mind, discovered knew aspects of myself, developed new relationships and experienced love. In Sarnia, I've found Home.

I've found “Home” in more places than I know off the top of my head. Through the years of my childhood and adolescence on the 100 acres I first called home; on the road through Western Europe with my classmates and professors, in the halls and classrooms of Park Hall (SSU), and during the short two weeks spent with my host families in the Philippines as well as in Thailand, I've found it. Because of this, Home for me has been altered and redefined. Home isn't just that place I grew up or the place I rest my head at night; neither is it simply the physical place. For me, Home has had to do a lot with the people and experiences encountered. Home is where beauty surrounds (in every sense of the word), enriching conversation is had and love is found. Home is what I make a place become for myself in addition to what others make it for me. It is where friends are found, my continual love of learning and adventure is exercised and cherished memories are made. Poet Oliver Wendall Holmes Sr. says, “Where we love is home – home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.” It seems I'm always packing and never settling; I may continually be packing and moving, but my many Homes remain behind, always there to welcome me back if and when the time comes. And that, is a true blessing. The last five months has been no exception to all of the above, even the time to leave and say my good byes has now come.

After finally making a decision through days and weeks of thinking, processing and weighing options, reality hits that my departure is near. There's the tingle of excitement and anticipation for my next adventure, but it is paired with the heavy heart as another chapter comes to a close and good byes have to be said. Thinking back to my very first days of the “Chronicles of Sarnia,” I was engulfed by the very same feelings – the anticipation of the internship ahead but the broken heart of leaving behind my beloved east coast home. At that time, I was convinced I would never feel comfortable, at home or even loved in this new and foreign place. I was alone and hurting for the place I'd just left. I was hesitant to engage and invest myself into new relationships because of the raw state of my heart and the pre-planned short term stay. In a way, I may even have resisted it by putting up a guard.

Yet, over time I was surprised by the ease I began to feel and the connections I was beginning to make with the new people I was surrounded by. I was beginning to find Home. It took weeks but when I did, I was awed and blessed. It all started with the Essers; some how their charm (and constant supply of coffee, tea and wit) broke through my resistance without my conscious realization. Their warm welcome allowed me to truly feel apart of their family. In time, relationships with others also began to bud into wonderful friendships, which I welcomed dearly! Another place in the world has burrowed a special place in my heart. Thus, the process of discerning my “what's next” became that much harder when I had to think about leaving yet another place I'd come to love. But the comfort in knowing this is Home, assures me this will always be a place to come back to, open arms and hearts will receive me; my feet may leave, but a piece of my heart shall remain.

I am so grateful my own hesitancy and resistance was over come by greater forces – I'm so thankful that I've found Home once again.

And I'm forever blessed because of this.

This FamJam <3
Esser Family Christmas Tree Getting' 2013