What are you working on?

On yourself, I mean. I realized the other day, in conversation with friends, that the journey I'm on right now with God is about freedom. Freedom from all the man-made rules I grew up with in our church and faith-life. Rules my mother still freaks over if I break (and I still react like a 6 year old when she does....cringing, and back-peddling my resolve...another thing I'm working on in tandem with the first).

I/we started going to a different church about 6 months ago. After thinking and praying about it for about 2 years. Now I wonder what took me so long, lol. But the one thing I can honestly say the last church did for me was WAKE. ME. UP. to the bondage I was in from "the rules"...

It was little things...like looking around and seeing even the "good little old ladies" wearing dress pants b/c they were sick of the rule that states "Thou shalt wear dresses to church, even in Canada, where the winter temperatures reach -42 and your legs turn blue."

Like having the Pastor's wife hand me a piece of gum to chew during the sermon, then missing the entire sermon b/c I was waiting for God to STRIKE. ME. DEAD. That would, of course, be because I broke the rule that states "Thou shalt not chew gum in church!"

Those rules. You know, the ones FIRMLY grounded in Scripture. Insert eye-roll here.

The new church, well, I can only say it is blowing the rules all to heck and back. Jeans. JEANS, I say! Sandals...on the MEN! NO ties...on either the women OR the men...although I suppose if ties are in style for women, they'd wear them. Just saying.

Drums. Loud speakers for the guitars. Folding chairs. Jeans. A Minister who wears jeans! (sorry...still stuck on that one) Hand raising. Front-row sitting. Babies welcome. Giggling allowed. Timmies coffee accepted. (in the SANCTUARY, people!)

UCofC, CCC, PCofC person in serious rule-breaking shock here. And you know what? The shock is good. It's freeing. I'm learning more and more about the Father who wants us there. In church. Fellowshipping and praising. Regardless of what we're wearing, or what non-existant pew we're sitting in.

I haven't worn jeans yet..but I may get there someday soon. I can say, the girls and I are flourishing in our new church home. And that's a good thing.

Neat experience...

The girls and I have been attending a new church (well, new to us, lol) for a couple of months now. About a month ago, a young lady came up to me after church as we were in the entranceway and asked if I was James' mom. I said, yes I was/am....I thought to myself that she looked a bit familiar....

She told me she'd been James' caregiver about 6 years ago. I remembered her...she and her twin sister shared the job for the summer...

She told me she had just graduated nursing school...






....and that that summer with James had shaped her life, and helped her realize she wanted to be a nurse...all because of him. I promptly lost it. Bawled like a baby right there....











My boy lives on. I don't know if I will EVER see the full scope of his effect on people during his short life. His funeral overwhelmed me with the sheer numbers of people he'd touched....and two years after that, people are still coming forward.

Thanks Erin....you made my year.

Wow...time flies, and things change...

My last post, I said I didn't know what I'd do when my new job ended...well, it ended up NOT ending. In fact, I find myself the owner (as of April 1st) of the salon....wow. One thing I always said I wouldn't do....own a salon. I DO detest the paperwork, but I still love my ladies. Fran has passed away, and others have come to my salon. I enjoy all of them. I wish it would grow faster, but I'm stumped as to how. Spent money on an ad in the paper...nada. Have ads up everywhere I can think of, nada. Time will tell. The residents pay the bills though, plus a tad more, so I guess I have a bit of time....

On to other things...the girls had their week at Camp Cherith...Melissa's first year, and she loved it!

Three weeks until our holidays in Port Huron. Can't wait.

Almost two years since my boy left us. My arms still ache for him every day. But I know I will see him again, and I know he is healed. Thank you, Lord. How do non-believers survive this pain? I've wondered that every day for almost two years now.