The sting of hope

Lovely Facebook reminded me last week of a picture I took with my wife two years earlier while waiting in the Vancouver airport to board our plane to Nepal. And, surprisingly, it stung.

I didn’t see it coming. But two years after moving to — and leaving so shortly thereafter — Nepal, there are still parts of my heart that clearly need healing.

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Never say never

I used to have a rock-solid list of “nevers.” Most of them revolved around parenting my as-yet-to-have-been-conceived perfectly matched set of two children. You know the list, right? “I’ll never spank my kids.” “I’ll never give my kids junk food.” “I’ll never say it’s bedtime at 6 p.m. just so I can get two hours of peace before I fall asleep on the couch.”

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He ain’t heavy

I wonder, sometimes, what it’s like to live in Phin’s head. Life often seems big and overwhelming for Phineas, who floats through his days with us as his anchor, telling him what’s to come, and how to stay safe, and when to come to the table for meals. Life with a cognitive impairment means, for my precious boy, that every morning could be Christmas, and every tried-and-true routine is fresh and potentially has a different outcome.

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Knowing God through a feather

I am sitting outside trying to prepare my lesson for tomorrow’s online French class that I teach (check out CBB+ if you’re interested!), but it’s been tough.

Not only is it a cool, lazy morning, but I am too busy watching my younger school-aged children sketch in their nature journals the feather of a hawk that is likely from the impudent rascal who flew off with one of our chicks earlier in the week.  Continue reading

Swept up in a story

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In the list of things I want my children to look back on their growing up years and remember, my voice narrating truly inspiring tales is high. Very high. Top five, actually.

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