Who Am I and How Did I Get Here?

How do you tell someone, who doesn't know you, just who you are?
What do you include and what do you leave out?
Oh, I definitely know what I would leave out! 

I suppose it makes a big difference who your audience might be.    If I was sharing who I am with a boss type person, I might include different things then if I was telling my Teen Challenge Student about myself.   My friends know who I am.  I like to think I'm an open book.   I also like to think I'm easy to read, but at times feel like I might be a bit of enigma.  Maybe they have to be good at reading between the lines sometimes.     

Actually, maybe it doesn't really matter who I am...it's not about me. And I know how I got here, besides the whole birds and the bees thing.....   I'm really blessed.  All the good things in my life are straight from God's hand, His fingerprints on my life.  And the tough things?...well,  He has brought me through those things because I am in His hands.   The challenges are things that draw me closer and make me more dependent on God.    The callings are opportunities and invitations to use my gifts to bless others but I know I will be so blessed in return.  That's always how it turns out.  

It feels like I'm on the way somewhere and not simply underway.    I can be content in not knowing the exact destination because I have a great Guide and great traveling companions.   Often we know the next step, but sometimes we have to wait for the timing to be right to keep walking. Maybe there is someone we have to talk to who is not on this journey yet.   Maybe you are supposed to meet up with someone somewhere along the way.  Let's say you just happen to share something that is on your heart and you find out that the person beside you shares the same burden with you (that happened today....four of us even!!!). And sometimes the only reason we have to wait is for the conditions to be right to see a spectacular sunset around the next bend.  Waiting time is never wasted time.

So who am I?

I'm an ordinary walker...just like you.   

And we'll get there....

Where Shall We Go Today...

There is this delightful silence around me.  

I'm "hearing" so many intense sounds but mostly I am hearing a feeling.   It sounds like....wait.    For a while I've felt a driving feeling but it is not accompanied by a sense of  direction.  It's hard for me not to respond to momentum:it's like knowing you are going on a trip and so you pack but you don't know where you are going.   You could set out hoping that by leaving you are at least on your way somewhere.   How futile!  The best thing to do is the sit by the door with your bags packed....ready to go at a moments notice.   

I'm not that good at sitting around. 

I'm ready to roll.   

Timmies

The blizzard is dying down.  This one came unexpected, out of nowhere.  No media hype.  Or could it be that this media hermit missed the hype.  It's possible.   I know...I can't believe either.

This is Canada.  We have snow.  It comes regularly, sometimes suddenly, and often in large quantities.   I must admit that I arrived at my love for winter late in life, possibly only in this last decade.    I felt a bit "gyped" last year, when we only received one substantial load.  I love this "white season" and went to bed with a "I hope it's a snow day tomorrow" feeling.

We did some shoveling.  We cleared our driveway, a neighbor called and Craig shoveled there, after which Craig went to a friends house, and Joe and I shoveled at church.  This is what snow days often look like around here.   New this time :a tractor trailer broke down half way up the street and had to be towed out of there, the mailman brought a parcel for Joe, but said he got stuck on some ice a couple of side streets over.   It appears that the plows are so busy keeping the main drag open and free of ice that they haven't gotten around to the subdivisions.  This is quite typical.  The neighbors are alive and well, and the air is filled with the hum of their snowblowers.  (I think the timing is a little off on one of them).

To celebrate and reward ourselves Canadian style, we stopped in at Tim Hortons for a treat.   And...we rolled up the rim...my head is not stuck so far into the sand that the latest Roll-Up-The-Rim campaign has escaped my notice.   (I did get out earlier this week :)   I get to play again.   I always get to play again. We sat in the store.  My double-double, my blueberry fritter, Joe, his real lemon iced tea , frosted cinnamon roll, and I.  Someone else got the last honey cruller. Coffee never tastes quite as good as when it's well deserved: you've put in the hours, heaved the heavy stuff, and it's 3 o'clock.   

And then the old fellows trickle in.   You know who I'm talking about.   They gather there everyday.   They nod to the other fellows already at their table as they walk in.  The girls know their orders because they are "regulars", and they know the girls.  They wear farm hats and work coats and sit down just within earshot.   They talk about the tsunami,  the price of gas, the snow and how it's making their angina act up.   They talk about it everyday, and everyday they solve the world's problems around those little tables with the collective wisdom of their generation.  Which ever problems they aren't able to solve that day get blamed on the proper "powers that be", and that too brings resolution.  I think this was the most Canadian moment of the entire day. It's a tradition that happens several times every day like clock work in coffee shops, franchised and not, all over North America.     Having a treat after shoveling is a tradition too.   It's the small matter of embracing winter and celebrating life in a very simple way.  

Celebrating: a driveway well shoveled. 

When you can find joy in the little things ...you're going to find it abundantly.