Unassuming Rebels

 

nature-3349197_1280

Photo credit: @fotografie_thomaswilken

In my mom’s backyard garden, there was always a persistent patch of Forget-Me-Nots.  Those tiny blue buds were a happy sight each spring, bursting forth with jubilation and triumph over their successfully large plot in a non-garden area in the yard.  They were planted, with good intentions, in the middle of a grassy spot and they did their thing – they spread.

 Every spring after my dad died, my mom would dig up a fistful of Forget-Me-Nots, roots and all, and would take them to the cemetery where my dad’s ashes had been placed in a columbarium.  There was a small, orderly garden plot directly across from the plaque behind which my dad’s urn sat and my Mom would faithfully replant those Forget-Me-Nots in new soil.

The cemetery had strict guidelines for items placed at graves, in front of columbariums and in the garden plots scattered around the grounds.  They were firm that you were not allowed to plant anything yourself but you could pay the cemetery to plant trees in memory of your loved one.  We did that one year with a black walnut tree – much like the ones in the yard where my dad grew up on his farm, outside of Wallaceburg – and they stationed a small plaque at its base identifying that it was my dad’s tree.

While the tree and the plaque were nice, there was something to be gained that was satisfying for the soul through the act of replanting these flowers. My Mom would defiantly plant those Forget-Me-Nots each year, without fail.

Yesterday, was the anniversary of my dad’s death.  Twenty-one years have passed and my mom, after her own Cancer diagnosis, joined him in heaven last September.

I may not be in Canada this spring, but when I’m there in the future, I hope to continue not only the small rebellion of planting Forget-Me-Nots, but also little acts of love that will help me remember and honour my parents.  They were quiet protesters in their own right, advocating for the voiceless, the poor, the sick and the oppressed.  Their names may never enter history books, but they left a legacy of kindness and love and of sacrificial giving of themselves.

Those tiny blue blossoms.  No matter how hard the winter, they are resilient, persistent, and multiply joy.  May we weather storms of life in an equal manner.

a few more gifts before leaving Canada

53. Catching a friend on the phone before they left their house.

54. Misty, warm mornings covering the backyard with dew drops piling up.

55. Long daylight hours in June, & lovely cool evenings.

56. Lovely, sunshiney, almost summer mornings.

57. Reminders of truth to persevere when changes remain unseen (for now).

58. Berries painting their stain on man-made surfaces.

beginning May with thankfulness too

And more today…

47. Dandelions on my walk reminding me of childhood times of blowing dreams into the sky. 
48. Light and dark shades of pink with petals on the tree, grass and sidewalk.
49. Flowery fragrances swaying and lingering in the breeze.
50. Deflating lessons in humility.
51. Cuddling up in a cosy blanket.
52. Times to talk about Thailand and what matters most to us with like-minded folk.

Spring Thankfulness and His Graces

It’s been a long time since I added to my list of One Thousand Gifts.  A friend of mine recently read Ann Voskamp’s book and dared her friends to join in listing what we’re thankful for – to practice eucharisto.

So my list continues on this overcast spring morning…

36. Fresh spring leaves unfurling.
37. Joy and gratitude overflowing at a weekend wedding celebration.
38. The forest floor abounding in trillium white.
39. Worshiping Jesus with our church family here in Canada.
40. Long forgotten pictures, words, artifacts rediscovered.
41. Vacuums making dust and dirt disappear.
42. Visits with friends not seen for years and years.
43. Sisters.
44. Family.
45. Green on green on green out my window.
46. Dark clouds and showers that will bring forth new life.

Globetrotting to Spring

We arrived in Canada a little over two weeks ago.  As we rode in the airport shuttle van from Toronto to London, Tawee’s first comment was about how brown everything was.  And it was.  It was the “ugly winter” stage – but not as ugly as the dirty slush and brown grass winter phase that would normally describe much of Canada at this time of year.

We left the outskirts of the GTA and drove past farms and the countryside of the edge of SW Ontario.  Brown and bleak – but for me I felt my heart well up inside as visions of my Canada were a reality before our eyes.

On our second day back, we awoke at dawn and looked out the window to see a very light sprinkling of snow on the grass in the backyard.  Without hesitation, Tawee grabbed someone’s winter boots, and bolted out the back door to experience this “first” in his life.  It wasn’t until later on that morning that he went out again properly clothed.

First snow

 As our jet lag diminished over the weekend, the temperatures began to increase daily until we were regularly going for walks in – get this – t-shirts and shorts!  Talk about unexpected weather in March!  Record high temperatures were being set each day and we were not cold.  What a blessing!

Checking out what’s coming up in Mom’s garden
Hard at work in Mom’s garden

 On Saturday headed to California for 10 days – a week with The SOLD Project (with whom Tawee works) and then a few extra days in the LA area with Tawee’s friends from his time at Cal State Fullerton (where he did his research for his Masters work).  Rainy and colder weather saw us off at the Toronto airport and greeted us again at our first destination in San Francisco.  We were thoroughly spoiled by the warmer temperatures in Ontario.  I seriously didn’t pack warm enough clothes for California!  Who would’ve thought?!

While temperatures have been cold and more on the dismal side, our time here in California has been wonderful – staying with good friends and having opportunities for me to connect with friends I served with in Asia (who returned home to the Bay area), and also for Tawee to connect with The SOLD Project supporters and friends.

Wine and olive country – just outside of Livermore, California.
Chilly at our friend’s family’s ranch and “cowboy town.”
Time with former roomie, Lori, and her new husband, Gabe.

We’re grateful for how God provided for this trip and our time here.  Thank you for your prayers for us!