how do you catch a cloud and pin it down?

Woke up in the middle of the night with a busy head and a muddled heart - and the very random thought: "Ecclesiastes 3:9". I didn't have the reference memorized so, intrigued, I looked it up:

What does the worker gain from his toil?

Then verse 10 and 11:

I have seen the burden God has laid on men.
He has made everything beautiful in its time.
He has also set eternity in the hearts of men;
yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.

Is God cruel? I don't believe so. At first these verses weighed me down even more than I had been but then I noticed: "He has made everything beautiful in its time." Everything. It reminded me of a quote that I heard once - "Everything is OK in the end. If it's not OK, it's not the end."

I don't pretend to understand the mysteries of God and this scripture seems to tell me that he doesn't expect me to. I cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end but, if I am content to ponder the portion of eternity that my finite heart can handle, if I am content to gain from it instead of my own toil, then will I be content to know:

Everything will be made beautiful in its time.
Everything.

She carries a pearl
In perfect condition
What once was hurt
What once was friction
What left a mark
No longer stings
Because grace makes beauty
Out of ugly things

Grace finds beauty
In everything

- Grace, U2

crazy little thing called love

M'love and I have just celebrated 365 days of being...together. This also breaks down into:

• 31,536,000 seconds
• 525,600 minutes
• 8760 hours
• 52 weeks (rounded down)

Lest you think that a) I have enough time to do these calculations on my own, and/or b) mathematics is my forté, check this out.

To mark this milestone, A. picked me up, we did a Tim's run, went wine-tasting at Inniskillin and Peller Estates wineries in Niagara on the Lake and shivered at the edge of the half-frozen Falls. The weather, although damp and overcast, was decidedly mild and spring-like. The melting snow drifts and poo-brown grass, in fact, reminded both of us of falling in love this time last year and of the distance between Woodbridge and Port Credit that A. traversed to see me each time we went on a date. Brave soul.

Brave and compassionate and strong and intelligent and wonderful and kissable. 31,536,000 seconds well spent, wouldn't you say?

At Peller Estates winery, having lunch.

Before I clued in to the pictures being taken.

After.

A balmy spring day...with icebergs.

Playing the part of tourist, Sarah.

Playing the part of Korean tourist, Sarah.

Playing the part of world-famous explorer, Andrew.

Playing the part of Nemo, Andrew.

Love makes us snuggle. That, and sub-zero temperatures.

something borrowed

I know. I already posted pictures of Kate and Paul's wedding (don't bother clicking the link on Kate's name...she never updates her blog). But I just surveyed about 5 million more*, and distilled the following for your viewing pleasure - in my opinion, the best of the best. The unabridged version can be found here, on Paul's website: www.paulgraham.ca. Enjoy.

* It's a good thing the pictures turned out amazingly, because the photographer was kind of annoying. But now I realize that she was just a genius.

Pretty, pretty Kate.
Veiled hug.
Arwen. Basically. I mean, honestly. She's SO PRETTY.
The couple seconds after they said their vows. Kate attempting not to cry.
Paul, pre-ceremony. Looking dashing.
Adorable. And hot.
Ickle wee Kate and Paul.
OK, is my mom not absolutely stunning? Stunning. Too bad about the disposable camera.
I didn't bite my lip coming down the aisle. Kate forbade me to.
Been lifted up.
More of the couple. Are they not GORGEOUS?
Thaaat's right. What.
Some candid shots of Kate.
Looking the happiest I've ever seen her.
This reminds me of that famous shot of Princess Diana on her wedding day.
By this point, I wanted the photographer's number.
Joey and Kate. Twins separated by two years.
Chloe stealing the show. Easily.
I'm sure this will be the second most incredible wedding I will ever attend in my life.

eureka!

A Recipe for Overcoming Winter Blahs:

1. Get enough sleep.
   
2. Wake up earlier. In fact, turn your alarm off and trust your body to wake up at the right time. It actually will.
   
3. Eat breakfast at home, not on the run. Skip the coffee.
4. Eat greens in the morning.
   
5. Don't let work stress you out. "What will this matter in the light of eternity?" is a handy phrase to repeat.
6. Unearth a few pet projects that you "haven't had time" to do. The summer months will only be busier, so use the time you have on your hands now.
7. Read fiction.
8. Take the extra millisecond it requires to smile and say hi to the people you see every day. Like Gino the bus driver, Mike the postman, Emmanuel the day-time front desk guy, and Norma the night-shift front desk lady.
   
9. Listen to classical music.
10. Don't overspend on stupid stuff to make yourself feel better. You won't.
11. Spend an evening over drinks with a friend you haven't seen in a while.
12. Don't avoid chores.
13. Clean your living/working space. Add pictures.

Worked for me!

the very warmth of my blood seems stolen away

I traipsed through High Park one evening last week. Toronto rested, naively, in its pre-blizzard/ice/snow storm state, the temperature hovered around -5 degrees, light snow fell in slow motion, the air was so still the puffs of my breath lingered a half-beat longer than usual, and the twilight gave the trees an eerie, blue glow. The forest was absolutely silent.

The beauty was breathtaking. The beauty crippled me. The beauty, in contrast to the abscess that gnaws at my heart daily, highlighted Something That Was Missing. Not sure what.

I've waded through melancholic moments before (they keep me regular) and, upon reflection, I wonder if this one is merely the result of the first winter spent entirely on Canadian soil. I generally live by a strict regiment of winter-evading by flying to the UK in February or March; 2007 is the first year in six that I haven't had the opportunity.

"And yet...Since I left New York, haven't the winds blown less hard, less often? Hasn't there been a kind of wrench every time we leave a place, a kind of regret? I think there has. Twenty-five years, and at last the spring has begun to grow tired, just as my mother grew tired in the final years. I find myself looking at the sun and wondering what it would be like to see it rise above the same horizon for five - maybe ten, maybe twenty - years. The thought fills me with a strange dizziness, a feeling of fear and longing."
- Joanne Harris ("Chocolate")

a vision in white

Miss Kate Dias, my bosom friend of five years (ish), became Mrs. Kate Graham on Feburary 24th, 2007.

I laughed, I cried, I danced my shoes off. Literally.

Kate couldn't have looked more divine. Honestly. I've seen this woman in plenty of outfits, looking plenty hot, and this day surpassed them all. I haven't quite pinpointed an adjective adequate enough to describe the day, or the beauty of it, or my honour at being the Maid by the same name...but it was amazing. And just what I had always imagined. Only better.





Highlights:

The ladies.

The gents.

Paul's face as Kate glides down the aisle.

Chloe - the cutest child on Planet Earth.

The very necessary Tim Horton's run during photographs.

Thanking the Bringer of Tim Horton's.

B-gorgeous LIUNA Station in Hamilton.

Duncan, the Dancing Accountant. All night long. Solo.

Lots more picture here (courtesy of the lovely Joey DeCaire).


"It's all pretty much as I used to imagine it long ago, when I wept over your inevitable marriage and our consequent parting," she laughed. "You are the bride of my dreams, Diana, with the `lovely misty veil'; and I am YOUR bridesmaid."

"We are not really parting, Anne," protested Diana. "I'm not going far away. We'll love each other just as much as ever. We've always kept that `oath' of friendship we swore long ago, haven't we?"

"Yes. We've kept it faithfully. We've had a beautiful friendship, Diana. But things can't be quite the same after this. You'll have other interests. I'll just be on the outside."

Anne of the Island, Lucy Maud Montgomery

back to basics

You might not like what I'm about to say.

That's OK. I understand. I don't really always like what I'm about to say either but...well...it's been a long road of trying to sit on the other side of the fence and, let me tell you, it's exhausting.

Last night, preparing for my cell group, I found an old note that someone had written me. The note is pretty out of character for this woman to write: she's feisty, smart, independant, a fighter...sometimes to a fault. Through a long and arduous journey, she's come to some interesting - and uncharacteristic - conclusions about life, love, marriage and what it means to be a woman, designed by God.

Mark 10:35-45 (Living translation)
1 Corinthinans 1:27-31
Hebrews 11:251
Corinthians 12:10

I have come to see that women are made to be responders not initiators. A woman who initiates is bitter. Men, maybe because of hurts, have withdrawn from initiating and women are frustrated and angry at the lethargy - however, our job now is to heal, love, support and encourage until the men can get up and fight again; not judge, override and usurp them. That only keeps them down and makes us more bitter without knowing why. This mental pattern is a stronghold and a bondage over our society so don't expect to break out of it easily; it will take a fight - much prayer and submission to the obedience of the King. That doesn't mean we be quiet: we can yell for them to get up, at the same time routing for them and serving them.

I believe this, however, I am not a good example. I have come to this understanding, however, I was not taught it either by my mother, church or schools. I was taught to compete, to aspire, to acheive my "full potential"; but the world doesn't know or see, to be fulfilled, you must empty yourself. To serve is our job and therefore becomes our "full potential". Learn it. Selfish ambition leads to great emptiness and confusion.

It reminds me of something I was reminded of recently on Angela's blog: a conversation I had with a hilarious Liverpuddlian woman about her relationship with her husband and a discussion we had about submission in marriage. "I obey my husband," she says, "and all he has to do is worship me."

I'm still working this out. Submitting doesn't always come naturally to me - I'm a first-born, Irish, extroverted, type A personality. And a human.

Any words of wisdom from married women out there? Men? Unmarrieds? Other humans struggling with submission?