13 Hours of Rain

Supper dishes are washed and put away. The children's eyes close as they drift to sleep. The floors are swept clean. Two cups of tea are brewed and placed on the table. And then we talk. This time it is my Mother and I. My Mother enjoys many types of activities. But I believe one of her favorites is to sit down with a close few and have a leisurely chat. So she begins. Her eyes take on a far-away look and she reminiscences about her childhood days... My Mother's father, or my Nana, was a pastor. He dedicated his life to sharing the Good News of Christ's birth, life, death, and resurrection. He was passionate about what he believed and he was not ashamed to be called a Christian, even in the face of persecution. He was an intentional man, a man who embraced his life of ministry with zeal. Thus, Christmas was time to reach out and celebrate the coming of the Saviour in the package of a baby. Celebrations began in early December. All the pastor's children excitedly vis...

My husband claims that he is a Post-Evangelical Neo-Anabaptist . He came up with this denominational category during his University days. At the Catholic Outreach booth, he filled a survey to get a free New Testament. He was asked to classify his Christianity. Since none of the options sufficed, he created a new version under "Other". Not wanting to be part of the negative stigma created by many Evangelicals, yet still desiring to adhere to his Anabaptist leanings, he added "Post" and "Neo" to existing types. Very creative! What denomination am I? Good question. Some days I am not sure because I have been exposed to many varieties under the Evangelical umbrella. In the theme of Brain McLaren's Generous Orthodoxy (A book I still mean to read someday), I compose this post. I am Brethren . I believe in the priesthood of believers and sometimes wonder if a pastor is even necessary. After all, if we all used our God given talents appropriately, there w...

The doorbell rang. I opened the door. It was one of the cabinet makers that I had asked to provide an estimate to rebuilt our kitchen. With a thank you, I took the paper and ran up the stairs. My heart raced as I skimmed through the details we had discussed earlier. Then I reached the bottom of the sheet. The price. I caught my breath. My dreams of a remodelled kitchen sank like the Titanic. "We can't afford this," I whispered under my breath as my little toddler danced around my feet. I walked back to the kitchen and scrutinized it for the millionth time. Dark wood. Scuff marks. Cracked back splash. Chipped counter top. Scratched sink. My brand new white appliances seemed ridiculously out of place. "Oh, yes, we could take out a fantastic loan equivalent to a brand new domestic car and wallow in debt for awhile. And true, we were willing to increase our mortgage by about 3.5%, if need be. But this number, THIS NUMBER is too much," I protested. Ugh. A bla...

Dear Son, We didn't choose your first name for the meaning per se , but for who you were named after. Your grandfather. Your Daddy's father. With pride, we carried the name on. Because your grandfather is a man of God. He is hardworking and hard playing. And his blue eyes are filled with an unmistakable twinkle generously peppered with laughter. I love that about him. And I pray that you will grow up to emulate these traits. Your middle name reflects the ethnic roots of the woman who composes this post. And the heritage of your Nana and Nani, your Mommy's parents. Your eastern roots are rich, my son. We overflow with passion and spice for life as exhibited in our food, the vibrant colors that decorate our fabrics, and our zeal for God and family (to name a few). And you are especially blessed with a legacy of devoted Christ-followers, a rare commodity in the country of your Mother's ancestors. May you embrace the good of your "Indian...

She woke up with a runny nose and cough, again, for the umpteenth time this fall. I sighed. My plans for the morning began to evaporate before my eyes. I really wanted to go. We were invited to another Mom's place were several others were gathering. I made the dreaded phone call. The conversation went something like this: "My daughter woke up with a cold. I was totally ready to go! I got the car this morning. I even baked the muffins I promised to bring. But, she's sick," I explained with marked disappointment in my voice. "Oh, not again! Though there are already snotty kids here," she replied with a chuckle. "Really? I just don't like spreading the germs." "Come on over with your germs!" she replied enthusiastically. "Are you sure?" "Totally!" So I bundled my kids in their snowsuits and piled into the car. The morning was simple. We hovered around a table working on various Christmas crafts. The ki...

I am faced with a technological dilemma. What technology should I invest my time and money into? DSLR Camera I enjoy photography, though my dream of being a professional photographer vanished after taking a photography class. I realized that aspiring photographers are a dime a dozen. Plus, it takes a lot of talent to get the perfect picture, talent that I have in limited quantities. Nonetheless, I get a bit thrilled looking through the lens of a camera. I had fun with my parent's SLR camera when I was younger. I experimented with aperture settings and shutter speeds. Some of my pictures turned out pretty good. Others were a disaster! The digital age arrived and, in typical quasi-Luddite fashion, it took me a long time to purchase a "point-and-shoot" digital camera. Once my husband and I made the deal, we starting wracking up hundreds of pictures. Of course, like most people, how to best store those pictures has been an issue. Cd's? USB keys? Removable hard drives?...

Today, as my children napped, I listened to one of my favorite albums by Nichole Nordeman entitled "This Mystery". The majority of the title song's lyrics are below. Wow. The words really encapsulated how I'm feeling these days. The words in parentheses are my thoughts on the lyrics. Hope it speaks to you where you are in your life. Say goodnight to the light of the setting sun One more day, one more way Of keeping track of all I've done (I'm trying, really I am. Some days I throw garbage in the laundry basket and place the hot chocolate container in the microwave. :)) I run this race, keep this pace I'm doing fine (most of the time) And I won't stop until each box Gets checked a second time (yah, me and my lists!) And life becomes the round and round Revolving door that won't slow down It won't slow down (these kids are growing up so fast, I am scared I am missing so much of their lives as I worry about stupid things) This r...

Kids were sick. Now husband is sick. Got out for Mom's group. Yay! Though mostly I am stuck in the house taking care of feverish brows and runny noses. Oh, I hope I don't get ill! I don't have TIME to get ill!!! I believe the act of Motherhood was entrusted to me to remind my over-achieving, perfectionist spirit to let go and let God. I am a control freak, but I can't control the people in my life. I'd like to control the physical chaos in the my world by putting things back into order, like those boxes in my basement - argh!!! But alas, I'm dolling out medicine, pouring apple juice, nursing a baby during the night, reading another story to my toddler, and worrying about the health of my family amongst other things. It's okay, because I've been whispering these verses under my breath over and over again: Be anxious for NOTHING , but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the PEACE of G...

I had an epiphany on Saturday, a moment of clarity in which I realized I need to make some positive changes in my life to reduce stress and improve my mental health. Essentially, I must take care of myself if I hope to take care of others. It is crucial that I invest time in things that energize me so I can embrace the good, bad, and the ugly of mothering. I believe that mothers struggle with taking care of themselves. The moment we conceive, we are thinking of the little life inside of us. We adjust our lifestyle to result in the healthiest pregnancy possible. We hope and pray, as we labour through hours of pain, that our newborn child will be strong and resilient. Once our bundle of joy (and tears) arrives, we give of our own body (if possible) to nourish the child at all hours of the night and day. We are consumed with feedings, elimination patterns, and infant development. We give, give, give. And if we have more children in our life, we give more. On top of that, if we have ...

To my little family: Sorry that I made oatmeal for supper again. I ran out of time to cook something substantial. You are all are awesome to slurp it up as if it is the best meal ever. Sorry to my son who is wailing in his crib. I'm coming honey, after I put your sister to bed. Daddy is working tonight, so there is only me for you two. Sorry to my daughter who is only getting one story instead of three. Your brother is balling his eyes out. Gotta settle him down. Sorry that I am spasing out on all of you. I am going a bit stir-crazy in this house as we battle through our third round of colds this fall. Sorry that the t-shirts are all wrinkly, my love. I did the laundry last night, dried it this morning, and folded it this evening. I am glad you understand. To my guests: Sorry that our living room walls resemble various poop colors. Yah, I don't know why someone would like to surround themselves with such shades. I will change them one day. Sorry that we haven...

I have been thinking about my purpose in life. My recent contemplative outlook has been brought on by the sad news of friends and family facing their final days on this earth. In one case it has been expected. In other case it has been incredibly sudden. What is my purpose? As a believer in Christ, I know what I have been commissioned to do. I must share my faith in word and deed. I must reflect the characteristics of Christ to those around me. I must love God and love people. I am pretty useless in doing this on my own, thus I must desperately depend on God's Holy Spirit and surrender myself to Him so He can complete His work in me. Sounds fantastic, doesn't it! And it is formidable. But how does this translate in the everyday? How does this intertwine with our secret desires and dreams that haunt our souls? Here are some of my current reflections on the above purpose and questions. Be present in the moment. Last night I was rocking my son to sleep. And my mind was wand...

Oh little boy, who likes to snuggle Who only falls asleep if he is rocked and cuddled* It is partly my fault, I guess For not letting you cry too long As you lay swaddled in your crib But I gladly relinquish my freedom for a time To hold you a little longer Can you stay this little forever? And grow up to be a strong young man Full of vibrant vitality And love for God? Your laughter is contagious And I admit, your screams Make many faces cringe And sometimes your Daddy and I Are clueless as to what to do But that's okay Because you are probably our last And that makes this Mommy's heart Sad And cling to you a little longer *85% of the time :)

We are all failures. Everyday I am reminded of how often I screw up as a mom, wife, and child of God. I don't read to my son enough. I don't preschool my daughter enough. I don't encourage my husband enough. I don't pray and read the scriptures enough. Oh, nobody is complaining. Nobody is wagging their finger at me and saying, "You are a failure Rain. You gotta improve here!" I'm just acutely aware of my inadequacies everyday. I'm not writing this post to gain your sympathizes. I am writing this to make a point. There is one guarantee in life. We will all fail at something, whether it is at school, in our relationships, at our jobs, in our journey as parents, or in improving our health. Or we will become the brunt of another person's failure. I am sure we can all remember some incidence in which we suffered the consequences of another person's screw up. Yet, in spite of the assurance of failure, we live in a world that tries to push failure...

My friend Ephphatha Michelle at Lost in the Prairies...Found by God  asked women to post their answers to her personal survey in her post entitled Caffeinated Randomness - Tag Your It!! Well, here goes... 1. Purses/shoes/chocolate - Which could you not live without on a desert island? Chocolate. I have a mild addiction to the various types and often crave a little goodness everyday despite the lack of it in the house. My favourite snack these days is Nature Valley's dark chocolate (70% cocoa) chewy granola bars. Mmmmmm. 2. What is one habit you do that you've done since you were a child? (ie. bite nails, etc..) I do have a few habits, but I am too embarrassed to admit them on the world wide web. Sorry! 3. If money was no object, where would you go and what would you do? I would tour the countries bordering the Mediterranean Sea. And I would eat a lot of GREAT food and sample some fine wine. I would revel in viewing God's spectacular nature and human...

The planet has rotated. The sun is on the other side. My children are dreaming. My husband is reading himself to sleep. I'm here, unable to rest though my body is exhausted. My mind is cluttered with myriad of thoughts. Oh how I wish I could THINK this blog post into existence. Homemaker. That is what I am. That is what I am supposed to be. What does that mean? As I step back and reflect on the last month in this new residence, I confess that my focus on homemaking has been superficial. For instance, I look around this place and I see things that need to be changed, fixed or renovated. At times my thoughts are obsessed with "getting it right" to the extent that I hesitate to open my home to non-family members because of mild embarrassment. I can already envision my apology to guests, "Sorry about this paint color, I will change it some day..." In addition, there are unpacked boxes everywhere. I get frustrated when I am only able to put a box or two away each ...

Finally a day came when the rain clouds were blown away and the cheery sun warmed the autumn soil. Off to the park we go! It was quite the production to get everyone out the door. Baby was fed and adorned in cozy fleece outerwear. Daughter was dressed and told to wait while seated on the bottom step. Suddenly, one of our neighbors decided to stop by to welcome us to our new dwelling. During our chat, my son started to freak out on his play mat. After saying farewell to our neighbor, I rushed up the stairs to place my son in the baby carrier. The little girl was still waiting in the entrance of our home. He screamed louder as I tried to stuff him into the carrier. My frustration rose. "Why can't this kid just CALM DOWN?" The closet door rattled below. "DON'T touch the closet!" I shouted down. My son's scream reached dangerous decibel levels while the closet continued to rattle. Why did I say we'd go to the park?!? "STOP IT AND SIT DOWN!"...

I hung up the phone after talking to a couple that has been a source of encouragement and help to our family during our move. Our supper celebration at a local restaurant has been postponed due to illness. A wave of disappointment enveloped my spirit. I desired to escape these walls for a moment to enjoy an evening out. Now I needed to envision a quick yet nutritious supper for my little family. My daughter and I sat down for lunch while my son was having one of his infamous cat naps. We enjoyed a ham & cheese wrap together followed by blueberry applesauce for dessert. Suddenly I started to tear up. "Mommy is sad today," I blubbered. "Hi," my daughter replied in comfort. "Mommy crying." "Yes, Mommy is crying. I have so much to do. There are so many things that need to be done in this house. And the house is a mess." And then I get to the crux of the outburst, "Can you pray that Mommy finds a good friend? Actually, can you pray that...

I wish I have time to write an eloquent piece of prose to express my feelings at this moment. But the lack of time necessitates brevity. We are on the cusp of a new adventure. And while I say goodbye to countless beautiful memories lived in nearly a decade of residence in this city, I say hello to a new life with new dreams. I pray that God will guide us and grant us a fresh vision on how to serve Him as a family. I trust that my Lord and Saviour has etched a significant place for us in His plan for our community. Thank you for all your prayers and support during this time.

Soon enough I will be moving to a city that I would label as "suburbia". My future residence reminds me of a rich annex of my current urban surrounding. As we have shared news of our move with acquaintances and friends, we have heard phrases like "nice little Christian community" or "town with lots of money" to describe our future destination. And everyone seems to agree it is a great place to raise a family. Lord, why here? Don't get me wrong. I am excited! Considering the other places we could have ended up, I am ecstatic and VERY grateful. While I was raised in a small town, the idea of living in one has terrified me as of late. But the "big city" has lost its appeal as well. Thus, our move is ideal: a small city with a town-like atmosphere and big city amenities. At the same time, I am curious. I am curious as to why the Lord has opened THIS door. Why does He need us THERE? Especially since the city seems to be infiltrated by a whol...

Lately, I have been reading on the go. My literary diet consists of small snacks such as newspaper columns and magazine articles. And I have sampled some savory tidbits of information. First, I read an article in our local paper about taming your micro-celebrity. According to the urban dictionary, a micro-celebrity is one who gains a mainstream following due to infectious internet distribution. The article was directed to parents of teenage girls who are addicted to social media sites such as Facebook and Twitter. Specifically, such adolescents are obsessed with grooming their internet persona (including digitally editing photographs of themselves) in an attempt to promote an unrealistic image to “friends”. The part of the article that captured my attention was a story of a bright high school girl who began exhibiting symptoms of ADHD. She was finding it hard to concentrate and her grades were dropping. In an attempt to rectify the situation, the girl’s physician placed her on me...

It's a done deal. We purchased House #4 (see previous blog post). Our condominium officially sold on July 16, 2010. Praise God! We were able to use the equity from the sale to finalize our next purchase. I am terrified. And excited. Terrified of all the things that could go wrong with a house. Excited about all the things we can accomplish with a house. Condo living had its perks. No yard work. No snow shovelling. No exterior maintenance. But our little family has been aching to enjoy the outdoors on a more consistent basis. Thus we have purchased a house, with a spectacular yard! I am hoping that the pristine condition of our grounds will motivate us to keep it that way. While I am already dreaming of how to renovate our outdated kitchen on a limited budget (the kitchen is my least favorite feature of House #4), I am looking forward to enjoying a fresh cup of coffee on our deck. I might even buy some french vanilla creamer to celebrate! Thank you for all your prayers.

Last Friday was one exhausting and productive day! Here is a recap of the events. Warning: This is lengthy. But it is worth the read if you empathize with house hunting. 9 A.M. My husband, infant son, and I left my in-laws to drive approximately three hours to our future home. En route we made two stops: one to fill our car with fuel; another to feed the baby. Our quest was to find a suitable house for our family conditional on the sale of our condominium. We enjoyed viewing the changing prairie landscape along the way, including a trek through the scenic river valley. Furthermore, in accordance with local tradition and superstition, we honked at the “lone tree” outside of the city. 12:30 P.M. After arriving at our destination, we grabbed a quick bite to eat at McDonalds. We rushed off to meet our realtor downtown. Now the house viewings began (along with breaks to feed our son). Our goal was to find a 3 + 1 bedroom home, fully developed, with two bathrooms, roomy kitchen, garage, and...

The following six blog posts are short reflections on various topics in the author’s mind. Reader discretion is advised. Virtual Good Byes. After informing family and my husband’s circle of friends, I announced our move on this blog followed by an e-mail to my personal contacts. Admittedly, I was a bit disappointed by the couple of comments after my blog entry. Apparently our move isn’t a big deal. However, on further reflection, I realize that most of the people who read my blog also receive my e-mails. Thus, I did receive many messages expressing congratulations and sadness over our departure. Interestingly enough, the responses have been virtual except for a few phone calls from family and friends. I must say, I miss the “here-and-now” responses. But I guess it goes both ways. I didn’t phone everyone. So what else should I expect? Post Partum Body. It has been a blessing to receive a beautiful baby boy after nine months of pregnancy. But it is discouraging to step on the scale and...

We : first-person, plural personal pronoun. First time, as an adult, I am moving due to someone else's career (i.e. my husband). And it is not just I. It is we . My husband, my two beautiful children, and I. 're contraction version of the word are . Are : first person plural present indicative of be . This IS happening and it is NOT a joke. And we need to do this as fast as possible this summer (Thus, we don't have time for the "a" in "are"). God willing, I'll be blogging from our NEW imaginary house (with a yard!) in a NEW urban center (albeit smaller) come August. Moving : relating to or involved in a transfer of furnishings from one location to another . We need to pack up our little condo and transform it into a viable property for someone to purchase. It is my hope and prayer that the future occupants of our current home will live such beautiful memories as I have in this place. While my heart is filled with sadness as I say goodbye to many ...

As a mathematics teacher, it bothers me when I encounter professionals who make blatant calculation errors, errors that should be avoided as part of the job. Last week, I took my son for a routine physical exam. The nurse at the clinic weighed him and told me he was 4.71 kg. All good. Then she punched some numbers into her calculator and reported, "He is 10 pounds, 3 ounces. Well, almost 4 ounces." I nodded while thinking, "You converted wrong, again ." So here is a mathematical contest for all my readers. Answer the following questions in the comment section of this blog post. If your response is correct and thorough as well as unique , I will seek you out and award you a prize! You have ONE week to respond. What did the nurse do on her calculator to convert 4.71 kg to 10 lbs 4 oz? What was the nurse's conversion error? What is the nurse assuming to be true which resulted in the error? What is my son's correct weight in pounds and ounces? Explain how to ...

I should be sleeping, right now. Both children are napping. A rare moment. Should've... I find I say that a lot. Often, the words echo in my mind after reflecting on some decision I have made. Take my son's birth announcement, for example. The morning of the picture shoot was rushed. We made it to the studio on time to discover that the family before us was running late. My husband and daughter are not the biggest fans of professional photography (According to my husband, the situation is highly fake. Though, he appreciates the results in the end. My daughter is two. Enough said.). I, on the other hand, enjoy posing for a photographer. My son is indifferent. :) The session began, finally. We worked with our daughter to "kiss" our son. The photographer tried to capture the moment. After obtaining a few precious pictures, my husband scooted off with our daughter so that I could finish the session with our son. Once done, I rapidly picked the birth announcement and other...

She has started to sing. Her sounds are not very melodious, yet. But she is hilarious! Often, our daughter will interject random words into the lyrics of known songs. And she receives the response she desires: giggles from her parents. Yesterday, as we serenaded each other with "Jesus Loves Me", she emphatically sounded, "Yes! Jesus loves my sockies!" I cracked up laughing! Now I am trying to keep a straight face so she doesn't botch the timeless words of a childhood classic forever. He has started to gurgle. It is so adorable, especially when he tries to "talk" to the beaming faces in his world. Plus he possesses a smile that can melt a person's heart. When I gave birth to my daughter, I wondered if I could love a baby boy as much as I loved my little princess. Now I know: I can. Sweet beautiful sounds fill my world. I am thankful.

My husband and I watched an fascinating lecture by Jordan Peterson, a Professor of Psychology at the University of Toronto. The talk was entitled Reality and the Sacred which "explores the human search for meaning in a chaotic world and how our perceptions and beliefs shape our sense of reality." Peterson proposes that life is full of two key states of being: chaos and order. These dichotomous ideas are wrestling to rule our lives. How we view chaos and order has a huge impact on our day-to-day interactions. Peterson illustrates this point by utilizing different religious viewpoints such as Buddhism, Christianity, Judaism, and Taoism. Honestly, I will not do Peterson's lecture justice by attempting to summarize it here. If you are curious, I encourage you to take the time to listen to it (click on the name of the lecture above). However, there are a couple of things I would like to highlight. First, I was intrigued by Peterson's view of Christianity and its approach ...

I have been pondering the issue of church and how the institution utilizes money. In my experience, most of the money donated to the local church is dispersed to pay staff. Very little of the funds are allocated towards missions or the less fortunate. Thus, we have para-church organizations that specialize in the crucial admonitions of Jesus: sharing the Good News of Christ's death and resurrection in word and deed outside the walls of our local church. This is not necessarily a criticism, but rather an observation of reality. Personally, I highly respect the pastor of our church and believe she deserves the money that she is paid. Actually, she deserves much more, as do pastors in general! Having stated that, I admit we do not contribute our entire offering to our local church. Why? Because we are financially committed to supporting causes associated with global missions. In addition, we desire to be open to the needs around us, whether that is a new charity that ends up at our ...

I was settling down for a quick afternoon nap. The sound of rain drops were in the background. A comforting sound, a sound that took me back to a more leisurely time in my past. I was living and working in south-east Asia. It was a typical Saturday morning during the rainy season. The hum of the air conditioner filled the background of my flat while water was steadily pelting against the window pane. I had slept in. My time to recover after a busy week of teaching. Except for an assignment or exam to grade and some self-relegated housework, the day was mine for the taking. What to do, weather permitting? Walk down to the local bakery for a yummy coconut bun and then take a stroll in the park? Catch the mass transit rail to engage in bargain shopping at one of the many markets? Hop a bus to a semi-tropical hiking destination and bask in the sounds of nature? Meet a friend for supper at an ethnic restaurant of our choice amidst the stunning skyline of the city? Or curl up with a good boo...