To dream with love

I was walking outside to the car.  Spring evening, sun setting, rain gently falling on my face. The kind of rain fall you love to be in, warm and beautiful, with the smell of fresh, green grass gently floating in the air.  The colours shown through the air like a diamond when light hits it, sparkling all over.  I smiled and kept walking, closing my eyes and turning my face to the sky, breathing in the beautiful scent all around.   As I unlocked the door, I looked up  and in front of the tree there was a huge screen.  I stood baffled, trying to figure out where it came from, and suddenly, black and white images started to flit across the screen until finally a coloured video started playing.  Music filled the air, and I dropped the keys, as my gaze stayed transfixed on the image in front of me.  The voice of my dad singing surrounded me, and I moved towards the screen and touched it.  Wherever I had to be was forgotten, and it was just Dad and I.  It was a younger version of Dad, healthy and vibrant. As the song ended, I put my cheek to the screen and said, “don’t go” as I watched him smile and wave.  The image skipped a few beats, paused on his smile, and disappeared. 

What  a dream aye?


What if the world was taken over by giant beavers?

That was a question asked during a game played last semester with the girls on the hall.  Of course my answer was ‘It would be ‘dammed’.  I thought it was quite witty, until I realised I would have to say my answer first, and then read the question.  So basically they all thought I was just randomly swearing. 

We had a bit of a scare yesterday, concerning grandmum.  Falling and fracturing a hip isn’t always the best news to receive.  And to be honest the last time my mum told me to stay put because the doctors said things would be ok, the end result was devastating.  So you can imagine my stress for the day as I waited to hear about how grandmum was doing, if she had surgery today, and how that went.  Around 6:30, I finally got the call all was well.  I cried a wee bit as I listened to the message outside the MP, composed myself and went back in to finish my supper.

Today the uni celebrated Martin Luther King Jr. day.  No classes, and basically we did service projects.  Today my hall went to a living centre for the elderly.  We sat around the tables and talked with the residents while eating icecream.  It was a lovely time, and I really enjoyed talking with the residents…though sometimes to get a conversation going was like pulling teeth….  Oh well.  It was enjoyable, and I was very impressed with the facility.  It was set up kind of like a posh hotel, and the dining room area was gorgeous…very Victorian set up with a chandelier. 

Anyways, I was able to go to church yesterday.  I have missed Genesis greatly since it’s practically been a whole 2 months since I was there last.  The sermon was good, on Solomon and his quest to know life’s purpose and using Ecclesiastes to kind of explain what he discovered.  So now I am pondering the question, and asking God how to use the time He has given me wisely.  I’d rather not waste my life.  So far, it’s been pretty eventful both good and bad.  But hey, what can I say.  Life has given me lemons, I’ve tried to make lemonade…of course sometimes the batch turns out a bit sour. 😉

This is a short blog, quick to the point, and lovingly written. 

As I ate a cadbury egg.

crossing the bridge

I woke up this morning and smiled.  The sun was streaming through the windows and Ellie was laying on my feet.  Which that, in itself, is truly amazing, for I am not one to lay perfectly still when sleeping.  I brought the coffee to a brew,  the aroma filled the kitchen with the infused flavours of cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla, and rum.  Perfect morning bliss, and then I started to sing Priscilla Ahn’s “A Good Day”.  A great song to start off the day. 

Every once in a while when I go on run, outside in Anderson, I’ll take the path which  twists and winds alongside the river.  It is a pretty route, and often I’ll see some interesting people that make me kind of question my decision of ‘Was this a safe thing to do.’   Of course, the only way to get back to the university is to cross the bridge.  The bridge on 8th street is brutal, for it is pretty steep, and I’ll normally stop and brace myself for that uphill sprint.  It can be an intense time, cause even though it isn’t the Golden Gate bridge, it still can knock out your breath.  I always feel better once I’ve crossed it, and know that rest is only five minutes away.    

Yesterday during church, I knew full well my heart wasn’t there.  I couldn’t sing the worship songs, and I knew I was just not in the place to do that.  I think I may be finally experiencing post traumatic symptoms, or maybe because it’s the holiday and I just want to be home and hearing the ‘The Hills Are Alive.” and making cookies with dad and dianne there.  As much as I love this time of year, I wonder if it will ever feel like Christmas to me again.  I hope so.    

One of my favourite people actually spoke yesterday.  He spoke on the power of prayer, and reminded me how much prayer is a privilege.  In my heart I knew God wanted me to hear what Marlin had to say.  The fact is, I miss the relationship with my dad so much….but at the moment I’m missing my relationship with God even more.  He’s the only one who has gotten me through, and these past few months have been way too difficult by myself. 

My prayer as of late has been “God I believe you can change my heart.”  and I know He will.  I’m choosing to cross this bridge.  One step at a time, and eventually I’ll make it to the other side. 

Rainer Maria Rilke once said,

 “When I saw others straining toward God, I did not understand it, for though I may have had him less than they did, there was no one blocking the way between him and me, and I could reach his heart easily. It is up to him, after all, to have us, our part consists of almost solely in letting him grasp us.”