Tracy's Blog

Starting next week until Christmas, I will be blogging along Advent themes so I thought this would be a good week to update you on my "Sunday Afternoon Blues" (see September 22) as promised. First, I need to be honest and admit that I didn't get around to copying the prayer I wrote and taking it into the car with me. Instead, the drive home served as a prompt to pray through the transition from church. So, what happened? I'm grateful to report that I was less irritable and that by God's grace, I was more diligent to attend to my needs for food, a tidy house, alone time, time with others, and rest. The most surprising thing for me has been how frequently I cry on Sunday afternoons. For some reason, Sundays are my day to grieve. (I suspect that part of my anger/agitation has been desiring to grieve but not having the emotional space or time to do it and being frustrated about that.) What am I grieving? Different things: my own sinfulness, the personal losses and dis...

November on the prairies is a bleak month as the only colours are varying shades of beige to brown (hay bales in the fields, long grass in the ditch, and leafless trees all around). It's cold, often cloudy, and there isn't anything to catch your eye. The days get shorter, the wind turns colder, and we have to wait for snow and the Christmas season to lighten things up. When I was in university, I went through a difficult period of time and I later described it to friends as "feeling like it was November all the time". Because November in Ottawa isn't so monochromatic nor cold, my childhood thoughts about November resurfaced now that I'm back on the prairies. But I was surprised. I no longer viewed it as ugly nor as something to get over with. I appreciate the time of waiting and can see the beauty in the barren trees and empty gardens. I also know, without a doubt, that it won't last forever. Change will come. My perspective on November (and the time of li...

Last Saturday night, Abigail was at a friend's house for a sleepover. The topic of church came up and her friend asked, "Do you have to pay to go to church?" Considering that this girl has no memory of ever being in a church and that she would pay to go to a concert, a sporting event, or an exercise class, it is a valid question. Abigail's response was a calm "No, it's free. Anyone can come." During the sermon the next day, the pastor told a story about a woman in Toronto who wanted to try going to church so she asked someone "Where do I get a ticket?" In her mind, one would need a ticket for church or at least an invitation like we get for weddings to ensure there was a place for her to sit. Hearing these stories helps me consider how strange church may seem to many people I interact with day to day and that those of us who go to church regularly cannot assume that our friends or family members know what it is like or what goes on there. It mo...

We have settled into our house in rural Manitoba and I'm amazed at it. I have sunshine streaming into the living room and a view of nature through every window in the house. There is a library for reading in, a woodstove to warm up beside, and a new washer and dryer. The balcony of the second floor looks down upon the living and dining rooms and has a railing that is the perfect height for a ballet barre. What else could I want? Maid service perhaps..... This home is a dream come true but it still isn't enough for me. My surroundings (as beautiful as they are) do not bring me contentment. I can still find things to be grumpy about (the dishes piled high) or scared of (what is living in those woods around our place?) I can still be proud, selfish, and angry. I can have everything I thought I wanted and still want more. Left to my old self, there is never that deep abiding sense of ultimate peace and well-being. There isn't contentment. It only comes from Christ. "I know...