The difference is you

This summer hasn't turned out at all like I expected. I remember thinking a few years ago, when I was learning what it meant to not have complete control, that sometimes things work out better if I'm not the author. That got me thinking about whether I could trust God to be in control and Author a better version.

I'm also thinking now that any plans I make for myself will be inherently tentative because God is the only one who knows my life to come. I'm the kind of person who likes change; I like having new hair and moving my couches around. I'm not as comfortable with my life changing, but I can still remember that uncertainty only lasts for a while and that the other side is from God.

When summer started, I did not make tentative plans. I knew what I had to do. Unfortunately, I did not cooperate with myself - actually, myself went the opposite direction. Nearing the other side of summer, I look back to see a time of walking in the desert, being exposed to myself, having to decide what's important to me and seeing again that God is writing something beautiful with my life.

God begins to feel closer. Or should I say, I'm slowly opening up to him. My stubbornness is slowly leaving, in large part because God gave me two gifts that I didn't deserve. I'm reading again and how much I love it. My fundraising has all come in for the trip- so apart from extra expenses, I can relax.

Beth told me last week that there are times when an option becomes available to us, that it becomes the only option. I still choose music. I don't feel like there is any other option for me at this point - because I still love it, I still want to know if I can do it and I still want to risk something. The change is that it may not happen quickly and that I may just have to persevere. But I'm not giving up.

This weekend my dad is flying me to Calgary, taking me for supper before Phantom of the Opera and putting me up in a hotel for my birthday. And Beth will be here. And I'm getting a surprise in the mail. Can it be Christine?

i'm still here

silence is on my mind.

the stillness of the lake made me wonder. the world is actually more beautiful in many ways when i'm just a spectator. it wants nothing, needs nothing and aspires to little besides god-given existence. what it made me wonder was what god was thinking when he added man to this breathtaking and completely serene planet. what i like to think is that god gently set us down here on a masterpiece to listen and to wait for the sounds of life and his voice.

my own life makes me wonder. i've been quieter than normal i think because i don't have many answers and i'm less sure of myself. i'm finding that i like it. i enjoy making time to be silent and the peaceful feeling that comes with not wanting to talk all the time. i also like that the less time i spend in my own way, the more god can be with me.

this book i'm reading is a wonder. invitation to solitude and silence. it likens our soul to a jar of river water that sits long enough to settle into something beautifully clear. the invitation is to be still long enough to face ourselves and let god meet us there, in the stillness the way we were made. and that's good for me because right now i don't feel like i can be anything but quiet.

i wonder at god being a quiet friend who waits for me to spend time with him
a distant lover who waits for me to notice him
a faithful father who waits for me to run to him
a gentle shepherd who waits for me to follow
a loving savior who waits for me to surrender

The darker side of Emmanuel

Well, this is the end.
The gospel church was great- it seems though that 20 min sermons really mean 52 min sermons. All the standing and singing made me tired. The pastor also said things that were very funny and that a white pastor would never get away with - things like ' if the woman you marry has a lot of clothes when you marry her, don't be surprised if she does a lot of shopping.' only he said it in a black kind of way- with enthusiasm. he sounded like chris rock/ cuba gooding jr.
I have alot of packing to do now. i got some energy from the sun being a big red circle in the sky.
goodbye halifax.

We were born before the wind/ Also younger than the sun/ Ere the bonnie boat was won as we sailed into the mystic

Hark, now hear the sailors cry/ Smell the sea and feel the sky/ Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic

And when that fog horn blows I will be coming home/ And when that fog horn blows I want to hear it/ I dont have to fear it/ I want to rock your gypsy soul/ Just like way back in the days of old/ Then magnificently we will float into the mystic

And when that fog horn blows you know I will be coming home/ And when that fog horn whistle blows I got to hear it/ I dont have to fear it/ I want to rock your gypsy soul/ Just like way back in the days of old

And together we will float into the mystic

Shoot the Moon

Peggy's Cove is a quaint fishing village about half an hour away from Halifax. 60 people live there; the rest are tourists. Their lighthouse is a post office. It gets windy there but it feels like you could move in and know everyone around and fish for a living.
I found some treasures at the beach today. I found two kinds of sea life that I can't identify but that looked neat enough for me to take. And glass that's been rubbed smooth by the waves and pieces of shells that look like pearls.
On Canada Day, the right thing to do is watch fireworks. For the first time in my life, I watched them from a balcony as they were shot into the sky off of a boat in the harbor. Richer people than Dan and I took their boats and their friends on the water. They lasted for a long time and I've concluded that they can buy colors and shapes that Saskatoon can't afford. I like being Canadian.
Tomorrow is my last day here. It feels heavy. The best thing about tomorrow is that we're going to a gospel church in the morning and because I'm used to pretending to be black, it will be great.