Grabbing Life by the Nards

This evening, I sat and joined in a discussion with a few people I know who have dealt with different feelings of grief, loss, and sickness. One person was a friend of mine who lost a baby boy days after his birth because of a abnormal chromosomal condition. Another was a man who had been diagnosed with cancer of the liver and was undergoing treatment. We spoke about grief, and recovery, and the shock of discovering that you're horribly sick, and the necessity of living with gratitude for each day that we're here on Earth.

It was a vulnerable, honest, and sobering conversation, and filled me with love for these two people who are experiencing such different difficult things, but who are facing it so courageously.

Another friend of ours has recently started chemo and is unabashedly pouring out his heart for all to read on Facebook - another courageous thing to do in the face of something so daunting. He recently posted a vine (if you haven't heard of Vine, you're missing out! Click here.) in which he took some time in nature. There was a simple shot of his hand touching a tree trunk. It was moving, to say the least, to see him drawing strength from this old, deeply rooted tree, this small piece of a vast creation.

These things leave me pondering. I'm a processor to the core. I listen, and I go away and ponder for a while, putting the pieces together in my mind and trying to make sense of what I've heard and what I think of it. The amazing thing about all three of these people is this.

They are living life in the raw, and in the now.

My friend spoke of needing to allow herself to pass through grief. She isn't living in the past, or trying to rush through or away from the pain. She lives today, and is learning to allow herself to feel what she feels.

The man spoke of being in a place of peace. In the midst of his body fighting against a slow growing cancer, he feels a deep calm and gratitude for each day as it comes and goes.

The third friend speaks of the love and care that he receives from those who pour out their support on his Facebook feed. He speaks of his experience changing each day, as some days he feels better than others, but that he's determined to deal with this thing and win.

I myself have never had cancer. I have never lost a child. I have never experienced the pain of divorce, or mental illness, or loss of a loved one. Sometimes I feel as though I've had an easy life.

But the thing is, from walking through these times alongside friends, witnessing and validating their pain and sorrow, and opening my heart to hear what I can from God in the moments of pondering, I glean a little bit of a gift from these people. I hear the messages that are being whispered through each situation. The messages aren't being whispered in only these difficult situations, but in every situation that I encounter.

Life is meant to be lived. Right now.

I mean, this is it, isn't it? And isn't it so easy to get caught up in what's going to happen tomorrow? Isn't it easy to dwell on the past?

I have to jog myself some days and shout out, "LAURA! THIS IS LIFE, RIGHT NOW! STOP IMAGINING WHAT YOU'LL DO WHEN YOU HAVE MORE TIME, OR MORE MONEY, OR WHEN THE KIDS ARE OLDER! THIS IS IT! DO THINGS RIGHT TODAY! ENJOY THE GIFT THAT IS TODAY! LIVE IN THE PEACE AND JOY OF THIS MOMENT!"

And so, in light of that, I'm going to post this, get up, leave the computer, and go sit with Ryan for the remainder of the evening. Then I'm going to go to sleep, and get up, and head out on an adventure with my little family for the weekend.

Have a wonderful, peaceful, in-the-moment kind of weekend.

Life Infused.

So.... we SOLD! Officially. It's done. It's complete.

It has been such a roller coaster. I'll be honest - I'm so tired of talking about it. I am not accustomed to living through so much constant drama. I don't like it. I don't like to complain about it. I don't like to be the one on the emotional roller coaster that never ends. I like to be chill, okay with things, go-with-the-flow. So this has been a challenge, and that part of our journey is over.

Breathe.

Shortly after we sold and finished all that up, our two older girls had their "theatre week". They have been a part of a homeschool theatre program since September and have been rehearsing "Willy Wonka Jr". The week after we sold was their week of dress rehearsals and performances, myself working backstage and realizing just how much work goes into a live musical theatre production! Whew! It went really well, and then theatre week was over.

Breathe.

Ryan and I had been talking about doing some counselling for a few years - a particular kind called "listening prayer" counselling. There was a highly recommended couple that offered this particular kind of counselling that we knew of and I had booked us in for a session a month or so before, not really knowing what to expect. It was really, really good. It was new and different, but so good to experience. We talked, and prayed, and I met a whole new character of God that I hadn't met before. Swept me right off my feet and left me reeling for days.

Breathe.

Then we noticed that our cat was acting a little unusual. She seemed to not be eating. She disappeared for a few days and then returned, still not touching her food or water. We tried different food. We observed her. Nothing. She grew weaker and tired. She wasn't young, but we expected her to last longer. Then one night she came up the back steps and meowed at the door in her usual way, but when I opened it, she fell over, meowing, too weak to walk any further. I picked her up, held her purring little body in my arms, and thus began the discussion of putting her down. She never really walked again after that. I carried her into our bed where she slept, and held her in my arms otherwise. She purred but didn't seem to be able to do much more. The next day, I took her in and went through the horrible and painful experience of holding her sweet head and paw as the vet put her down. I watched the light go out.

Breathe.

Then one day, after me worrying and worrying about a looming soccer game that our eldest had told me she WASN'T GOING TO GO TO even after she had started soccer and really really really really really really really really wanted to play, she ran into the house and hollered that our neighbour down the street played for the same organization, then proceeded to put on all her soccer garb, grab a ball, and dribble it around our front yard.

Breathe.

Then we got a request from a friend who was going out of town for a month to dog-sit her big loveable Weimaraner while she was gone. He was dropped off the day after our cat was put down and filled a huge void in my heart as he seemed to adopt me as his new foster-mom.

Breathe.

It's my birthday today. It was a glorious day. It was filled with phone calls from loved ones, facebook well wishes from friends and family, meals out, good conversations, walks in the sunshine, moments of excitement and inspiration, laughter and light.

Breathe deeply, and be thankful.

I am thankful. Life isn't always happy or smooth or easy, but it wouldn't be as rich if it were. The light shines so much brighter in the midst of the dark night, doesn't it? God is so good, and shows up in such amazingly dramatic ways in the midst of the hard parts of life.

Aaaaaand Breathe

Okay, I am not about to believe that our story has you on the edge of your seats, nor am I under the presumption that you'd all like a play-by-play, but since we had such a huge response to our last few posts, I thought it only fair to update you on the happenings around here.

But before I get to that, something of great importance must be addressed.

I am very aware that in the photo I posted of us drinking our Bailey's, some of you may have taken issue.  I realize that most of our readers are a little more on the conservative side of things, and so I just had to speak towards the specific issue at hand. My hair. I know. Really now. I took the picture and said to myself, "Wow, I really look like Kramer."

There is a good reason for this. One of which is my recent foray into allowing Ryan to get creative with my hair. In trying to save a little money, I said, "What the heck? Shave the sides!" and neglected to deal with the top, and what happens when I neglect the top? Well, it gets really thick and wild up top, leading to the Kramer look. 

So tonight I took some wee tiny nail scissors and did a little artistic sculpting of my own. I don't think I did too badly....

A little wild still, which I like, and yet a little less bushy and thick. And look how happy Ryan is! 

And now that we've dealt with the elephant in the room, we can get to the house stuff.

SOOOOO it's not as bad as it sounded when we first heard. We had a builder come through today and he laid out just what the problems were. There is no mould. There is rot, but it's not a whole lot and not something to panic about. We have a plan to deal with it and thanks to the lovely care of some good friends and family, are feeling very well loved in the process.

So, we forge on and take this thing by the bal....loony-pants, and sell this place!!

XOXO

Laura

Landslide

When we publish our book, and when you purchase it, and when you crack it open for the first time and land yourself on the table of contents listing the titles of the chapters, there will be a number of riveting sounding sections. There may be "What Are You Waiting For?" or "Carving Out Your Path" or "Asking the Hard Questions". These all sound delightfully interesting, don't they? But there will be another chapter. It may not be one that you will head straight to when you open the book, but it will be a pretty important one to read nonetheless. It will be titled something like, "Facing the LANDSLIDE That Has Just Blocked Your Highway and Pooped All Over Your Plans, Which Weren't Really Yours Anyway, and How To Deal".

So, um, it has been quite an interesting day.

It was inspection day today. Yes, the inspector came and searched through our house for anything he could find that might be BAD. And did he find anything? Well, yes.

So we have rot. And mould. And it seems like there might be a healthy amount of it.

Um. Wow.

We are away on a romantic, relaxing little night for Ryan's birthday (Happy Birthday, Ryan!) and happened to get the call right after coming out of the hot tub and returning to our room.

As soon as we got the call, hearing about this and learning that our dear buyers had backed out completely, we got off the phone and sat in silence for a bit. I have to admit, I nearly started laughing. You know when something is so shocking and horrible that it makes you want to laugh? Naw, I hadn't experienced that before either. But I did today!

 

Here is a picture of us shortly after we heard and spoke on the phone with some friends, who promptly called our hotel and ordered some Bailey's' to our room! Seriously! Awesome!

 

Truth be told, we aren't devastated. We aren't cuddled up together weeping, wishing the big BAD problem would just go away. We are kind of, strangely, peaceful about it. I mean, there's work to be done. There are people to see, bills to pay, a basement to fix, and a house to re-list. If you had told me this would happen a month ago I may have thrown in the towel.

But here we are, dealing with it. Really, what can we do but put one foot in front of the other and get this sorted out? We try and ask the Big Guy what is going on, but really, I sense we'll see it from a different perspective later. I don't expect any immediate answers. I hope to understand things a ways down the road.

There are details of this week that have been unbelievably crazy. There have been things that have happened that have made this the worst possible time for this to happen, and also ways in which we have seen circumstances adjusting themselves to accommodate for this very thing happening. It isn't easy - don't get me wrong - but there are still hints and whisperings of the Good seeping through the cracks of this week, filtering through to our hearts and minds, indicating that the fingerprints of Someone are all over this situation.

And so we trod on. We don't know what the coming weeks will hold. Maybe we'll have to move out. Maybe we'll have to kiss co-housing goodbye. Maybe we'll end up moving to Thailand. We live with open hands, hoping for them to be filled with goodness, and trusting that He will provide everything we truly need in the right time. What more can we hope for?

A Little More About Co-Housing

Here's a little video to illustrate a little better what exactly co-housing is!  Enjoy.

Medal of Honour

It's like a slow motion scene. The music begins, slowly at first and gently building. Inspirational, with strings, and some ambient percussion. Ryan is beside me, both of us slowly, beautifully running along a beach, the tide to our right, kissing our naked toes. We can see him, still a long way off, running towards us. The music builds, Ryan and I exchange joyful glances, throw back our heads and laugh in slow motion as we all draw closer. Then a close up of him, carrying it in his hand, glistening in the sun. At long last, we meet, smiling, expectant and proud. He pulls out a few papers from his pocket and says, "Ryan, Laura, in my hand is the list of showings you've had on your house. You have had the most showings of any of my clients, ever. In fact, you have had the most showings of any house for sale in the whole world, throughout all of history. You have had 83 showings. I am happy to present you with this Medal of Honour." Ryan and I step forward and he solemnly places it around both of our necks. At the same time. Tying us together by the necks.

Okay, this obviously didn't happen. BUT, one part of it did. Can you guess? YES! We have had over 80 showings, people! And guess what? IT HAS SOLD. Oh my. Oh my my my. What a relief it is to say those words. (I shouldn't really speak quite so soon, since the subjects don't come off for a few more days, but COME ON NOW.)

To say that the past few weeks has been hard would be a serious understatement. They have been dark. Very dark. You know when you come to the end of your rope and don't think you have anything left to hold on to? You know when you're so desperate that all you can do is either scream and shout out your anger and frustration or sink into numb emotional oblivion? You know when you're so frustrated that all you can do is take it out on the people who are closest to you?

We know what that's like.

I'm not sure what hit us. Maybe it was the fact that we were having so many showings each week, nearly every day, and cleaning and cleaning and cleaning for people who were still saying the same damn things about our house, or maybe it was that we were second guessing whether we should have taken one of those early cheap-shot low offers, or maybe it was that other dark parts of life crept up and surrounded us, but most likely it was a combination of all of those things.

Waiting is hard, people. Really hard. It's also rich, people. Really rich. This is the horrible, exasperating thing about being forced to wait. While it feels like we're tearing our hair out trying to be patient and not jump up and just take control, we are actually changing and growing and learning! We discovered this a few months into the wait.

But this last month has not been nearly so rich in the growing and learning arena. It has been just plain dark. It has been hard to hold on to our direction, our vision, our values. It has been that notorious rock bottom.

It took a surrendering and a dream to bring us up and out.

Here's how it went down.

We were so low. We were sitting on the couch one night, the very couch where we've had amazing revelations and moments of inspiration, encouragement and meditation, and we were feeling so horribly bad. We talked about this journey. We tried to remind each other where we had been, what He had brought us through, how He had shown up again and again, but the sinking feeling of frustration and darkness wouldn't leave. It had been a week or more of this. Anger, impatience, questioning, wondering, trying to keep on track simply because we didn't know what else to do. And through the talking, the frustrated yelling at Him who has shown up so many times, we agreed, together, that we didn't even care where we ended up. We were so desperate that we would even give up this co-housing community we had become so excited about and so, dare I say, attached to. We didn't know what else to say, except to surrender EVERYTHING and decide that NOTHING mattered anymore. We were completely and utterly lost.

We went to bed.

In the night I had a dream. The insignificant part of the dream involved a visit to a tiny owl...

...and a motorcycle ride with little Pony hanging on behind me.

The significant part involved arriving home from said visit and ride and checking messages. (Um, old school!!) There was one message and it began with a backtrack. Yes, I mean music - canned background music. The music, extremely cheesy, began and I listened, wondering what on earth it was, and then a voice began singing with it, and I recognized it as our realtor's voice. He was singing, starting low and building, that 'we had waited for so long, but that we had gotten an OOOOOFFERRRRRRR and that the DEPOSIT WAS SEEEEEEVENTY THOUUUUUUUSAND DOOOOOLLAAAAAAARS!!!' The song went on, and eventually ended, as did my dream.

Well that was weird.

I woke up and it was morning. I felt light and humourous, having just ended the dream, and then remembered our reality and the heavy night we had had. My mood lowered a bit, but I tried to hold on to the humour and told Ryan about it. We both chuckled.

On with the day. Ryan was home that day, it being the weekend, and I headed out to a meeting. During the meeting, Ryan exchanged some funny texts with our realtor, telling him about the dream. They had some laughs and then got down to the business of talking about showings and such.

I returned home later that morning and pretty soon my phone rang. I answered it and on the other end was a voice, rather familiarly singing "WEEE GOT AN OOOOOFFERRRRRRR!!!!" I will admit that the voice in the dream was far superior, but I'll put that up to the fact that as it was a dream, it was combined with my own extreme musical ability. Ha. Anyway, I laughed and told him that it was indeed a funny dream, to which he replied that we really did have an offer.

WHAT THE WHAT??

And then later that day we got a second offer.

WHAT THE WHAT-WHAT?

And just like that, our house is sold. A multiple offer situation. There's obviously more to the story, but I'll spare you the deets.

The thing is, I think there may have been something significant about that night that we were so low. I think there might just be something significant about the fact that we gave it ALL up, even the amazing place we bought. And dare I say, that I think there was a wee touch of humour and lightness being communicated in the dream that I was given that night. It's as if He was saying, "I'm happy that you've remembered to really leave everything in my hands, and here's a little joke to lighten things up, because COME ON. THIS IS FUN, RIGHT?"

At least that's how I choose to think of it.

And so we've sold. Our hearts are a little lighter today. Our minds are a little freer. Our hands are a little more open. Our plans are a little more loose. Let us not forget this which we have learned.

Though, you know, we probably will.

Co-WHAT?

We weren't even looking yet. We were still just focussed on selling. But it landed in our laps. I mean, it really did. It just *plop* landed there, and of course we had to choose to pick it up and examine it, but there it was, looking delicious and juicy, and how could we resist?

We didn't. I'll be honest. It is actually hard for us to even believe, but we didn't resist. I mean, why bother resisting when something looks and feels so right?

Co-housing.

Co-what-ing?

Co-HOUSING.

Hm. Where to start. Back a few months I think.

Ryan came home one day, early in our journey here, perhaps our house had been on the market for a month, and said that he heard about an interesting way of living. There was this guy who he had met through work who lived in this community in a nearby city.

Blah, I thought. Too far away. Isn't one of our non-negotiables that we're staying in this area? Yes. So don't even toy with it. Besides, haven't you NEVER been open to living in community? We've explored this before. Silly thought. End of conversation.

(That would be me, the harsh wife.)

A few months later, much further into our little journey of learning how to trust and open our hands, Ryan comes home again and tells me of a coffee he had with this same guy, and how they exchanged stories, and that he's heard more about this community the guy lives in. He's kind of intrigued, and this time I am too. Why? Because we're living with our hands open. We're trying not to control. We're trying not to shut doors that are opened for us.

And so I ask, and he answers, and we send an email to this guy. There's a community event, open to anyone. It's a Robbie Burns night - Scottish theme, celtic music, Haggis, dancing - we should come. We swallow and accept.

It's a Saturday night and we have NO idea what to expect. We are let in the locked doors of the common building and enter the dining room that has a little stage area where there are three community members performing some numbers on various celtic instruments. There's singing, accordion, bodhran, and irish pipes. A number of people sit around, least of which is not a 6-year-old girl who spies our daughters and makes a bee-line. Within minutes they are all gone - disappeared through a door into the common kids playroom and running up and down the open area of the common house. They're in heaven. We sit and enjoy the music, meet a few people around us, and then the tables are cleared, dessert is served, and the Scottish folk dancing begins. We and the girls join in and dance a few numbers before it's getting late and we need to go. Before we do, we get a tour of the place and hear about the community. It's a group of people who simply don't accept that life should be lived in isolation, in our own little homes, shut out from the rest of the world. They want people, they want care, they want a village. Some people want it because they're raising kids. Some people want it because they're ageing. All of them contribute in various ways and all of them seemed to respect, no deeply care for, one another.

We bid them farewell and drove home, girls all happily sleepy and us all giddy and giggling. Did we really want this? Wasn't this the furthest thing from what we were looking for? Weren't we looking for a tiny place that was near where we lived now? What did this mean?

Let me shed some light here. It was entirely unusual that we, both individually and as a pair, were even remotely interested in this. I was so clearly unwilling to look anywhere but in our immediate neighbourhood. Ryan was very clearly unwilling to step into any kind of sharing of life situation. We had beed down that road before, when I thought it would be great, he recoiled and backed away. I had long given up the desire to co-live simply because I didn't think we'd be able to pull it off as a couple.

And so the mere fact that we both felt so compelled, and after only one short evening, was quite significant to us both. And because we were in a time of such deep intuition, listening, praying, meditating on God and what He might be opening up for us, we were deeply aware that this place, this unique community of people, might just be the place we were being directed to. At very least, we couldn't just pass it up, and at very most, we had to consider that perhaps this was IT.

And so we continued in the journey to find out more. We visited again a few days later, in the daytime, and saw the property, drilled them with questions. "What's the hardest part about living in community?" "What's it like to have kids here?" "What's the demographic age-wise?" "Faith-wise?" "Work-wise?" "What are the benefits of this lifestyle?" "How is conflict dealt with?" The questions went on and on, and the more answers we received, the more comfortable and confident we felt in our desire to live there.

We met more people, went to more events, and learned of a 4-bedroom unit coming up for sale. We inquired, and learned that there were a couple other families interested. There would be an open house. They would let us know the price when it was set.

It was all very exciting and yet we had no idea what our chances were.

Two days before the open house, we learned the price. It worked for us. Then the open house. We finally got to see the unit that we were desiring. How strange to want to live in a place that we had never even seen!

It blew away our expectations. We put in an offer that very day, as had one other family.

We got it.

In a month, a whirlwind month, we had gone from hearing about this co-housing idea to purchasing. Sounds fast, I know. We are SO excited.

We chuckle as we see how the chains we have wrapped around our "plans" have been slowly unshackled and released. We laugh, knowing those plans were never true plans anyway, because this wasn't a journey towards OUR values. This is a journey towards God. It's a time of learning, of humility, of allowing our own simple views die and adopting the longing for His ideas to take charge of our hearts.

And so, come July, our co-housing journey will begin. We need to sell our house, but we think we can. I mean, if this truly is where He'll have us, won't He work that out too? We think so, but He sometimes has different things up His sleeve.