I found myself reading the Revelation to St. John late last night. My meditative mood has me going back to the Holy Books fairly regularly. I feel extremely weak these days, failing in many things, feeling apathy about a lot, such as my health, and why bother indulging in my love of spiritual conversation since most people do not respond to it well. I only seem to be able to find comfort in my own learning. I get some satisfaction from what little work I have, and gardening helps, but my mind doesn't seem to want to get off of my powerlessness and weakness these days. Not uselessness, exactly, but certainly not capable of causing change in myself, nevermind in anyone else. How many times have I gone off of sugar, which I have known since I was 21 makes me very ill, only to fail and cause all the problems it causes in my body and mind? Why bother trying again? And how many times have I decided on an exercise routine that I think I can stick with, looking for something I think I will enjoy, only to stop almost before I start - again. I am declining a lot of Baha'i service because I don't have the mental energy for it. One of my Baha'i friends, when I recently declined offering my services on too grand a scale for our community's annual summer event, told me that even trees go into dormancy when they need to. I know she wished to offer comfort, and I did take some comfort from it. I'll allow myself a break. But I know that I go into spiritual declines rather rapidly if I take breaks that are too long from service.
Anyway, Since Jovani and I have been reading 'Abdu'l-Baha's Some Answered Questions and there are several references to Christian subjects in it, I was drawn to the New Testament last night. I recognized things that were actually fulfillments of the Old Testament as well, such as mentioning the opening of the seals, when Daniel was told to "Seal up the books." But the interpretation of what those seals are is something where people start a lot of guessing. Understandably. However, everywhere I saw a reference to "1260 days" or "twelve hundred and sixty days" I thought, "That's familiar. What is that?" So I went back to Some Answered Questions in case it was there, and found it in "Commentary on the Eleventh Chapter of the Revelation to St. John" - 1260 is from the Muhammadan calendar, and is the number in the Koran that predicts when the spirit of Muhammad will return. The Bab declared His mission in the year 1260 of the Muhammadan calendar -1844 of the Gregorian calendar.
I found the Revelation to John interesting because of its timing. I know that Christians understand Jesus to be "the Lamb of God", and there may be some Biblical references to that - I don't really know. But if they're getting that from John, it doesn't make sense because it is full of predictions for the future, and Jesus had already come. So how can the "Lamb" that John talks about be Jesus? Given similarities in Their lives and the way They both died, and some other indications, I tend to think that the Lamb is the Bab. There are also a few references to a "new name" in John. How can Jesus return with His own Name if He is supposed to have a new name?
Actually, there was a lot of stuff in the Revelation to John that I rather quickly recognized as having been fulfilled by the Bab and Baha'u'llah, but I still find myself wondering WHY Christ inspired John to write SO allegorically. Actually, Baha'u'llah explained that it is so that those who are materialists WON'T recognize Him because Jesus didn't want those people to recognize Him when He returned, but holy smokes, what a way to make it virtually impossible for ANYONE to recognize Him.
My nephew was asking me, when he was here before leaving for Saskatoon, (and I had no idea how knowledgeable Rowan is on Biblical matters - he illustrated to me how St. Paul specifically says that the Resurrection was spiritual, not physical, but he lost me in his explanation of that - maybe I was not quite mentally alert enough but Rowan's brain boggles my mind sometimes - he's both brilliant and spiritual), if I would have believed in the other Messengers of God based solely on their Person and their Word. I had to honestly respond that I don't think so. My sister thought I was being dogmatic. I said, "Not really, I'm just discovering that I'm not nearly as great as I thought I was." She laughed, "Ah, learning humility." A little too profoundly, I think.
Would I have believed in Baha'u'llah based solely on His Person and His Word? It is impossible to say, of course, but His Word strikes me as impossible to have come from merely an inspired human being. From His Person? I don't really know, since I've never enjoyed the gruesome history of religion and therefore haven't studied it much. Some people love the stories of the martyrs and the life of Baha'u'llah. Too much suffering for my liking. I did enjoy the first two books of "The Revelation of Baha'u'llah" by Adib Taherzadeh, though it has been years since I read them. I quit half way through the third book.
Well, my mind is suddenly a blank, and I'm hoping that means that all the thoughts that have been swirling around my head will take a rest. I don't much want to be thinking about these things because it is a lonely endeavour. I don't seem to have much choice. At least Mom likes to discuss them.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Friday, July 3, 2009
Blessed
The dictionary definition that applies to the kind of blessed I'm talking about is "divinely or supremely favored, fortunate."
I've decided to blog this because I can't seem to get out of my meditative mood and three meditative letters to everyone, some who I KNOW are not interested in my meditative thoughts, seem a bit much.
I was reflecting, when I woke up this morning, that every moment of every day is a moment in which we reassess our own faith. Most moments it is not so consciously done. If we choose to identify with any particular faith system, at any moment something can happen that causes us to wonder if we have chosen correctly. Usually such moments are not really all that traumatic or challenging to truths we have have long accepted. Occasionally something happens or someone says something that makes us go back to the Books, if only to reaffirm what we already know to be true. Seldom is there a moment that makes us seriously doubt. Probably a good thing - those moments are painful, traumatic, and often, life-changing, for good or for bad - and even that latter is a human judgment, not a Divine one. However, serious doubt can and does happen, and while probably useful because without it we would likely become complacent - and not genuinely be searching for the truth - not something a person wishes to go through every day.
And when we get over them such that we either confirm what we already believe or choose a different path entirely, it is still only one such moment - or series of moments - in an entire lifetime of moments in which God can allow or assist us to change our views entirely. Which brings me to the idea of being "blessed."
There is a passage from Baha'u'llah that goes thus: Blessed are the steadfast; blessed are they that stand firm in His Faith.
My entire life I have been reading such passages as "Rewarded are they". Because I have remained a Baha'i all my life, have managed, through many trials and tests of my faith to continue to believe in Baha'u'llah, I have imagined myself "rewarded", if not in this life, though possibly that, then definitely in the life to come. It occurred to me this morning that I have misunderstood it all my life. "Blessed" is closer to being a "recipient of grace" than it is "rewarded." "Rewarded" implies that I have done something to merit remaining firm in my faith in Baha'u'llah through all the individual moments in my life when I might have chosen otherwise. "Blessed" actually means that, thanks to Him, I am still a Baha'i. It is very, very humbling.
I've decided to blog this because I can't seem to get out of my meditative mood and three meditative letters to everyone, some who I KNOW are not interested in my meditative thoughts, seem a bit much.
I was reflecting, when I woke up this morning, that every moment of every day is a moment in which we reassess our own faith. Most moments it is not so consciously done. If we choose to identify with any particular faith system, at any moment something can happen that causes us to wonder if we have chosen correctly. Usually such moments are not really all that traumatic or challenging to truths we have have long accepted. Occasionally something happens or someone says something that makes us go back to the Books, if only to reaffirm what we already know to be true. Seldom is there a moment that makes us seriously doubt. Probably a good thing - those moments are painful, traumatic, and often, life-changing, for good or for bad - and even that latter is a human judgment, not a Divine one. However, serious doubt can and does happen, and while probably useful because without it we would likely become complacent - and not genuinely be searching for the truth - not something a person wishes to go through every day.
And when we get over them such that we either confirm what we already believe or choose a different path entirely, it is still only one such moment - or series of moments - in an entire lifetime of moments in which God can allow or assist us to change our views entirely. Which brings me to the idea of being "blessed."
There is a passage from Baha'u'llah that goes thus: Blessed are the steadfast; blessed are they that stand firm in His Faith.
My entire life I have been reading such passages as "Rewarded are they". Because I have remained a Baha'i all my life, have managed, through many trials and tests of my faith to continue to believe in Baha'u'llah, I have imagined myself "rewarded", if not in this life, though possibly that, then definitely in the life to come. It occurred to me this morning that I have misunderstood it all my life. "Blessed" is closer to being a "recipient of grace" than it is "rewarded." "Rewarded" implies that I have done something to merit remaining firm in my faith in Baha'u'llah through all the individual moments in my life when I might have chosen otherwise. "Blessed" actually means that, thanks to Him, I am still a Baha'i. It is very, very humbling.
Monday, May 18, 2009
A Day in the Life of the Self-Employed Bookkeeper
Well, I'm beginning to realize that "bookkeeper" is a very liberal term, depending on what one is willing to do as a bookkeeper.
Last week some time, an older gentleman called when I was not here, asking to talk to the "accountant". When Mom said I wasn't here, he started explaining that Telus was trying to rip him off and he needed help sorting out his phone bill. Mom slowed him down and said she didn't know what she or I could do about it, but said I would be back later, and gave him a rough time to call. However, Dad also spoke with the man and gave him directions to the house.
The time that Mom suggested he call was also the time that our first Local Spiritual Assembly meeting of the Baha'i year was to start, and he ARRIVED at that time. So I sat down with him, a flustered but pleasant man, to figure out what the problem was. He was willing to sign his whole life over to me if I could just fight with Telus for him because he was sure he had paid this huge bill that he just got. I told him that I doubted they would talk to me, but I would try. However, I didn't promise to get it done within the next few days - too much tax work still.
About a week later, (two days ago) he showed up on my doorstep again, showing me a disconnection notice. I promised, through much emotionally charged conversation on his part, that I would do what I could, but that he should be prepared to pay the huge bill to avoid disconnection.
So I did sit down yesterday to figure it out, between phone calls to clarify information, and then he just arrived again with more information. It wasn't looking good for him though.
Enjoying my Victoria Day sleep-in, the phone rang at 9 a.m., and it was this same gentleman, saying he wanted to come pick up all the paperwork he had left with me so he could just go in and pay the amount he believed he owed tomorrow. I groggily replied "Give me about half an hour". He said, "Oh, I guess that's reasonable."
By the time he got here at around 10:15, I had clearly established in my own mind that the only thing Telus was guilty of was legal highway robbery - his phone bills added up just fine. So I sat him down with a cup of coffee, and systematically showed him what had happened, with an apology that it wasn't turning out the way he had hoped. He was some deflated, poor man, and then asked what he owed me. I had only spent an hour on figuring out what had happened, so I charged him what I charge for an hour of bookkeeping, plus GST. A lot of drama for $26.25. As he was leaving, however, I pointed out that he is paying 16 cents a minute for his LD phone calls in North America, and almost $2/minute for his LD calls overseas. I told him I only pay 3.5 cents for my North American calls. He said, "I'll give you another $40 if you'll get me onto a long distance company that is cheaper." I told him I would work on it, but that I can't just change long distance phone companies for him. It will just mean that I'll have to find the best rate for him, and then go over to his house and walk him through the change on the phone.
I have the feeling I will be seeing a lot of this gentleman. Prices are going up, fixed incomes don't rise, and he admitted to being "nervous" and not being able to deal with some things. I can just see this frustrated old man telling other frustrated senior citizens, "Oh, take it over to that little girl in Whitelaw, the bookkeeper, she helped me figure out a problem with my phone bill and got me on a plan that I pay a lot less, and she hardly charged me anything to do it." (Old men often call any woman more than ten years younger than they are "that little girl.") Pretty soon I'll be the refuge that all the confused older people run to, to sort out their confusing bills.
Nonetheless, even if the result wasn't quite what he wanted, it was good to be able to clarify something for him and calm him down a bit, just by being calm myself and taking him through it step-by-step.
In other news, I took Jessa and Aislinn over to "Auntie Tineke's", (she's a lady whose son goes to school with Jessa, and apparently all the kids call her "Auntie Tineke" (Teenika), for them to check out the piano she had for sale. We now have a nice piano, rather than a keyboard, for the girls to practice on, thanks to Grandma. Jessa was getting so that she needed a pedal. Jessa is very pleased, and is beginning to compose her own music, so I think having a real piano, and maybe I'll buy her some piano music just a little above where she is currently, and she'll be playing around on the piano, making real music, just for fun.
Dad has just called supper.
Last week some time, an older gentleman called when I was not here, asking to talk to the "accountant". When Mom said I wasn't here, he started explaining that Telus was trying to rip him off and he needed help sorting out his phone bill. Mom slowed him down and said she didn't know what she or I could do about it, but said I would be back later, and gave him a rough time to call. However, Dad also spoke with the man and gave him directions to the house.
The time that Mom suggested he call was also the time that our first Local Spiritual Assembly meeting of the Baha'i year was to start, and he ARRIVED at that time. So I sat down with him, a flustered but pleasant man, to figure out what the problem was. He was willing to sign his whole life over to me if I could just fight with Telus for him because he was sure he had paid this huge bill that he just got. I told him that I doubted they would talk to me, but I would try. However, I didn't promise to get it done within the next few days - too much tax work still.
About a week later, (two days ago) he showed up on my doorstep again, showing me a disconnection notice. I promised, through much emotionally charged conversation on his part, that I would do what I could, but that he should be prepared to pay the huge bill to avoid disconnection.
So I did sit down yesterday to figure it out, between phone calls to clarify information, and then he just arrived again with more information. It wasn't looking good for him though.
Enjoying my Victoria Day sleep-in, the phone rang at 9 a.m., and it was this same gentleman, saying he wanted to come pick up all the paperwork he had left with me so he could just go in and pay the amount he believed he owed tomorrow. I groggily replied "Give me about half an hour". He said, "Oh, I guess that's reasonable."
By the time he got here at around 10:15, I had clearly established in my own mind that the only thing Telus was guilty of was legal highway robbery - his phone bills added up just fine. So I sat him down with a cup of coffee, and systematically showed him what had happened, with an apology that it wasn't turning out the way he had hoped. He was some deflated, poor man, and then asked what he owed me. I had only spent an hour on figuring out what had happened, so I charged him what I charge for an hour of bookkeeping, plus GST. A lot of drama for $26.25. As he was leaving, however, I pointed out that he is paying 16 cents a minute for his LD phone calls in North America, and almost $2/minute for his LD calls overseas. I told him I only pay 3.5 cents for my North American calls. He said, "I'll give you another $40 if you'll get me onto a long distance company that is cheaper." I told him I would work on it, but that I can't just change long distance phone companies for him. It will just mean that I'll have to find the best rate for him, and then go over to his house and walk him through the change on the phone.
I have the feeling I will be seeing a lot of this gentleman. Prices are going up, fixed incomes don't rise, and he admitted to being "nervous" and not being able to deal with some things. I can just see this frustrated old man telling other frustrated senior citizens, "Oh, take it over to that little girl in Whitelaw, the bookkeeper, she helped me figure out a problem with my phone bill and got me on a plan that I pay a lot less, and she hardly charged me anything to do it." (Old men often call any woman more than ten years younger than they are "that little girl.") Pretty soon I'll be the refuge that all the confused older people run to, to sort out their confusing bills.
Nonetheless, even if the result wasn't quite what he wanted, it was good to be able to clarify something for him and calm him down a bit, just by being calm myself and taking him through it step-by-step.
In other news, I took Jessa and Aislinn over to "Auntie Tineke's", (she's a lady whose son goes to school with Jessa, and apparently all the kids call her "Auntie Tineke" (Teenika), for them to check out the piano she had for sale. We now have a nice piano, rather than a keyboard, for the girls to practice on, thanks to Grandma. Jessa was getting so that she needed a pedal. Jessa is very pleased, and is beginning to compose her own music, so I think having a real piano, and maybe I'll buy her some piano music just a little above where she is currently, and she'll be playing around on the piano, making real music, just for fun.
Dad has just called supper.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Sushi is back
Well, I'm a little confused about why these people did what they did, but I think the advice of Andrew, the by-law officer, is good, and that I should just leave it alone.
I spoke with him a few times and the law was clearly on our side because I legally adopted Sushi and he was the one who took care of the adoption. However, as usual with me, I cared less about the legalities and more about what was right. I would make a lousy lawyer. If they had had proof that she was originally theirs, I'd have been in a quandary about what to do, despite the fact that it took them five months to make a claim and we're only a few doors down from them, because she was in such miserable condition when we found her, yet if they had bought her, I'd have felt like I should give her back. Fortunately, it has been taken care of without such complications.
Not quite so sad today.
I spoke with him a few times and the law was clearly on our side because I legally adopted Sushi and he was the one who took care of the adoption. However, as usual with me, I cared less about the legalities and more about what was right. I would make a lousy lawyer. If they had had proof that she was originally theirs, I'd have been in a quandary about what to do, despite the fact that it took them five months to make a claim and we're only a few doors down from them, because she was in such miserable condition when we found her, yet if they had bought her, I'd have felt like I should give her back. Fortunately, it has been taken care of without such complications.
Not quite so sad today.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Life Happens
Well, the Martin Kerr concerts were wonderful and exhausting. Martin sings everything from children's songs to pop songs with uplifting messages to everybody's favorites, like the Alleluya song from Shrek. One of the teachers at the school commented that his rendition of that gave her goosebumps, and another said he made her cry. I was so glad to be able to arrange his performances and visit with him myself a little. Anyone interested in learning more about him and his music, or perhaps scheduling a concert or two can look up all the info on his website: www.martinkerrmusic.com.
After the concert yesterday, Jovani asked me to go to the school with him while he coached soccer. He does a good job of that and the children all respond to him well. He's got some good soccer players there too.
Then we took the girls to their piano recital last night, and all three did us proud. Aislinn swore she was not ready but played beautifully.
I was so tired I left Jovani to put the girls to bed. Then we had a lazy morning this morning but eventually got up to get ready for the arrival of four of Jessa's friends for her birthday celebration. Shortly before noon, Aislinn came in to tell me that Sushi got out of the house and she went chasing after her down the street, only to try calling her when she went into someone's yard. That someone was holding Sushi and not letting her go. He told her that he would come and talk to us later. Aislinn knew better than to go into a stranger's yard and try to grab Sushi away, so she ran home to tell me what had happened. I had a very bad feeling about it. I asked Jovani to go deal with it, so he went to see what was going on.
It seems that this couple believes Sushi to be their Maggie, a pure-bred Shih-tzu. They say they have the papers to prove it. Jovani explained how we found her and that we had been through all the necessary legal processes to adopt her, to which he received the reply that they didn't care about any of that, she's their dog and we can bring the RCMP or whoever we want, but they aren't giving up the dog.
Jovani spoke courteously and said that he would have to call the by-law officer, and came home. I called the by-law officer who helped us adopt the dog, and we are now waiting for him to come over to deal with the matter.
I am of two minds. The attitude of these people is unnecessary. Had they come looking for her - I've walked past their house with Sushi many, many times, as it is on the way to the school - and produced proof that the dog was theirs before we adopted her, I would have handed over the dog. Reluctantly, because she had obviously been badly neglected, but I would not have argued. However, suddenly laying claim to the dog six months after she's gone missing, when they could have approached us any time, asking if we'd found a Shih-tzu - well, it just isn't right. But neither do I want to respond in kind. 'Abdu'l-Baha says not only that we are supposed to forgive people who do us wrong instantly, but "If they poison your lives, sweeten their souls." I have no desire to get into a major battle with my neighbour over a dog, much as I am very, very fond of that dog. If I felt certain she would be well cared for I doubt I would make any waves even if the dog is legally ours. But she was scrawny, filthy and miserable when we found her. How can I just let her go back to such people?
So, we wait for the by-law officer to take care of the matter, and meanwhile I am missing my tail. Sushi followed me everywhere, just waiting for me to sit down so she could jump on my lap. She ran out of the house on one of the few occasions that she wasn't with me. No doubt it will be hardest when I go to sleep tonight and she's not right up on the bed at my back.
I'm a little sad today.
After the concert yesterday, Jovani asked me to go to the school with him while he coached soccer. He does a good job of that and the children all respond to him well. He's got some good soccer players there too.
Then we took the girls to their piano recital last night, and all three did us proud. Aislinn swore she was not ready but played beautifully.
I was so tired I left Jovani to put the girls to bed. Then we had a lazy morning this morning but eventually got up to get ready for the arrival of four of Jessa's friends for her birthday celebration. Shortly before noon, Aislinn came in to tell me that Sushi got out of the house and she went chasing after her down the street, only to try calling her when she went into someone's yard. That someone was holding Sushi and not letting her go. He told her that he would come and talk to us later. Aislinn knew better than to go into a stranger's yard and try to grab Sushi away, so she ran home to tell me what had happened. I had a very bad feeling about it. I asked Jovani to go deal with it, so he went to see what was going on.
It seems that this couple believes Sushi to be their Maggie, a pure-bred Shih-tzu. They say they have the papers to prove it. Jovani explained how we found her and that we had been through all the necessary legal processes to adopt her, to which he received the reply that they didn't care about any of that, she's their dog and we can bring the RCMP or whoever we want, but they aren't giving up the dog.
Jovani spoke courteously and said that he would have to call the by-law officer, and came home. I called the by-law officer who helped us adopt the dog, and we are now waiting for him to come over to deal with the matter.
I am of two minds. The attitude of these people is unnecessary. Had they come looking for her - I've walked past their house with Sushi many, many times, as it is on the way to the school - and produced proof that the dog was theirs before we adopted her, I would have handed over the dog. Reluctantly, because she had obviously been badly neglected, but I would not have argued. However, suddenly laying claim to the dog six months after she's gone missing, when they could have approached us any time, asking if we'd found a Shih-tzu - well, it just isn't right. But neither do I want to respond in kind. 'Abdu'l-Baha says not only that we are supposed to forgive people who do us wrong instantly, but "If they poison your lives, sweeten their souls." I have no desire to get into a major battle with my neighbour over a dog, much as I am very, very fond of that dog. If I felt certain she would be well cared for I doubt I would make any waves even if the dog is legally ours. But she was scrawny, filthy and miserable when we found her. How can I just let her go back to such people?
So, we wait for the by-law officer to take care of the matter, and meanwhile I am missing my tail. Sushi followed me everywhere, just waiting for me to sit down so she could jump on my lap. She ran out of the house on one of the few occasions that she wasn't with me. No doubt it will be hardest when I go to sleep tonight and she's not right up on the bed at my back.
I'm a little sad today.
Monday, May 11, 2009
May 11th
In deference to the guy who doesn't want so much pink showing on his screen while reading my blog, I have changed layout and colours. Thank-you for my morning laugh, David.
It is Jessamine's 11th birthday today. Yesterday her Auntie Heather and Auntie Bernadette (also known as Uncle Bernie) came for a quick Mother's Day visit. They brought tulips and lemon cream cake. We spent as much time out in the lovely May sunshine as we could. Because her aunt and uncle were here, we presented her birthday presents to her yesterday. She was given some little sun catchers for her bedroom, a pair of capris (when did we stop calling them pedal-pushers?), the newest Taylor Swift CD, a soccer ball and a croquet set.
The big events of this week will be the concerts given by Canadian Idol finalist Martin Kerr, in our home and in Whitelaw School on Wednesday night and Thursday afternoon, respectively, the girls' piano recital on Thursday night, and then Jessa's official birthday celebration on Friday.
Meanwhile I have loads of work I'm supposed to be doing for bookkeeping and tax clients, and I promised to bring a couple of cakes in at noon for her class so the whole class can have some birthday cake.
We had a wonderful Ridvan celebration at my sister's house in FSJ on May 2nd, with Baha'is from here, Grande Prairie and Dawson Creek attending for prayers, lots of good food, and a nature walk through the Fish Creek Community Forest. The path was still icy and I almost fell several times. I visited with Carolyn of Dawson Creek on most of the walk. Her daughter, Raquel, is trying to go on a youth year of service in Chad, in August or September. Carolyn was telling me that she asked someone who had lived in Africa for a number of years if she would go back, and the woman's response was, "Oh, I would never go to Africa."
This made me think about if someone were to ask me if I would ever go to Belize. My initial response would likely be something similar, although I learned long ago never to say never. However, the truth of the matter is, even if *I* have no desire to return to Belize, I would not presume to suggest whether someone else should. Who am I to say that it isn't just what someone else needs? I think after almost five years back in Canada, I can give a fairly objective response to someone looking to travel to or do service in Belize. It isn't all peaches and cream, although most people think it is for the first few months, but neither is it hell on earth, much as it felt that way for the last few years for me. It is a place like most others - it has its pros and its cons. I suppose it all depends on what one wants.
The day before we went to the Ridvan celebration, my darling little Jessa dropped a table on her foot while helping to clean up at school. There were left over treats from an important visit, and her teacher tried to ply her with treats to make her feel better. Jessa thought that was funny, and assured him it was not necessary. He also praised her for being his best helper. I had to go pick her up from school because she could not even hobble home, so I brought Aislinn with me, who had the day off of school, and piggy-backed Jessa into the car, leaving Aislinn to walk home with Meadow when school was let out a half-hour later. Aislinn was delighted to visit with her friends among the staff from last year while waiting for her little sister.
Jessa's foot is still bruised and sensitive, but she has managed to do more than I would have given her credit for only a couple of years ago. When she was little, every bump and bruise received a great outcry. But as I said to Mr. P., her teacher, "My wimp is no longer a wimp." He said, "Jessa's not a wimp!" I said, "Not anymore, she's not." Jessa is turning into an interesting, vibrant, happy, intelligent, helpful and compassionate young lady, at only 11.
Well, I better go get ready to take the cake over to the school.
Love,
It is Jessamine's 11th birthday today. Yesterday her Auntie Heather and Auntie Bernadette (also known as Uncle Bernie) came for a quick Mother's Day visit. They brought tulips and lemon cream cake. We spent as much time out in the lovely May sunshine as we could. Because her aunt and uncle were here, we presented her birthday presents to her yesterday. She was given some little sun catchers for her bedroom, a pair of capris (when did we stop calling them pedal-pushers?), the newest Taylor Swift CD, a soccer ball and a croquet set.
The big events of this week will be the concerts given by Canadian Idol finalist Martin Kerr, in our home and in Whitelaw School on Wednesday night and Thursday afternoon, respectively, the girls' piano recital on Thursday night, and then Jessa's official birthday celebration on Friday.
Meanwhile I have loads of work I'm supposed to be doing for bookkeeping and tax clients, and I promised to bring a couple of cakes in at noon for her class so the whole class can have some birthday cake.
We had a wonderful Ridvan celebration at my sister's house in FSJ on May 2nd, with Baha'is from here, Grande Prairie and Dawson Creek attending for prayers, lots of good food, and a nature walk through the Fish Creek Community Forest. The path was still icy and I almost fell several times. I visited with Carolyn of Dawson Creek on most of the walk. Her daughter, Raquel, is trying to go on a youth year of service in Chad, in August or September. Carolyn was telling me that she asked someone who had lived in Africa for a number of years if she would go back, and the woman's response was, "Oh, I would never go to Africa."
This made me think about if someone were to ask me if I would ever go to Belize. My initial response would likely be something similar, although I learned long ago never to say never. However, the truth of the matter is, even if *I* have no desire to return to Belize, I would not presume to suggest whether someone else should. Who am I to say that it isn't just what someone else needs? I think after almost five years back in Canada, I can give a fairly objective response to someone looking to travel to or do service in Belize. It isn't all peaches and cream, although most people think it is for the first few months, but neither is it hell on earth, much as it felt that way for the last few years for me. It is a place like most others - it has its pros and its cons. I suppose it all depends on what one wants.
The day before we went to the Ridvan celebration, my darling little Jessa dropped a table on her foot while helping to clean up at school. There were left over treats from an important visit, and her teacher tried to ply her with treats to make her feel better. Jessa thought that was funny, and assured him it was not necessary. He also praised her for being his best helper. I had to go pick her up from school because she could not even hobble home, so I brought Aislinn with me, who had the day off of school, and piggy-backed Jessa into the car, leaving Aislinn to walk home with Meadow when school was let out a half-hour later. Aislinn was delighted to visit with her friends among the staff from last year while waiting for her little sister.
Jessa's foot is still bruised and sensitive, but she has managed to do more than I would have given her credit for only a couple of years ago. When she was little, every bump and bruise received a great outcry. But as I said to Mr. P., her teacher, "My wimp is no longer a wimp." He said, "Jessa's not a wimp!" I said, "Not anymore, she's not." Jessa is turning into an interesting, vibrant, happy, intelligent, helpful and compassionate young lady, at only 11.
Well, I better go get ready to take the cake over to the school.
Love,
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Spring is Springing
The snow has been melting for a few days now. It is still melting, and the corresponding dirt and slush are turning it into that in-between ugly that comes after the beauty of pristine winter but before the freshness of green and spring flowers. Before it got ugly, though, we spent an hour after supper one day frolicking in the snow with our two dogs and three cats. Actually, the cats didn't frolic. Rascal kept threatening to wander away, but since he's the only one that is neutered, he is unlikely to go far. The dogs had fun though - Estrella found an deer antler and chewed on it at length on one side of a snow hill, and Sushi pounced around in the slush with the girls and jumped on me when I fell in the snow on the other side of the snow hill. It was a good thing that Estrella and Sushi were not aware of each other, because they go for the throat. The grey cat inadvertently got left outside and Jessa had a panic because technically Mini is hers but Jovani found him huddling under the back deck, hissing at Estrella, who was barking her fool head off at him. He was afraid to move, but Jovani rescued him.
During our snow play the girls lined up lying down side-by-side on the snow, and Mommy-of-the-lousy-aim did her best to use them as snowball target practice. They easily avoided my snowballs, even the big ones, but I had a heart-stopping moment when I hit Jessa right in the face. I expected a big wail. Of the three, she has the lowest tolerance for pain and discomfort. While I held my breath she dug the snow out from behind her glasses, wiped off her face and turned to me with a grin and a laugh. Phew! She's growing up, and I'm glad because she has been the one it has been most difficult to tell if she is truly in pain or if it has been much ado about nothing.
Last night was parent-teacher interviews at Aislinn's school. I've had a bit of drama with one of her teachers - her Language Arts and Religion teacher. As a by-the-by, this woman is going to Belize soon to assist in incorporating the Alberta school curriculum into the Belizean curriculum, to upgrade the level of education in Belize. Anyway, it seems that Aislinn has been underperforming in her class. We went from Aislinn's French teacher who said, "Your girl is doing FABULOUS" and "She has a real future in French", and "She's such a sweet girl" to the Language Arts and Religion teacher who is underwhelmed by Aislinn's effort. We figured out a couple of things - 1) Aislinn is intimidated by this teacher and 2.) Religion class does not equal "spiritual studies". The homework on "What do you think God's purpose for you in life is?" was NOT adequately answered by, "To love and to serve God and to be the best person I know how to be." I encouraged her in that answer - it sums it up, and all the rest is detail. However, the teacher wanted the detail. So, because it was my fault that Aislinn handed so little in, I am making her do the assignment over again over Easter so that the teacher can see what Aislinn is really capable of - and she can re-evaluate it or not. Jovani and I are both working on encouraging Aislinn to not be intimidated. She got over her fear of her phys ed teacher already, she can get over this difficulty and concentrate on doing as well as we know she is capable of doing. How very strange that Aislinn would graduate from one teacher who says, "I can tell that writing runs in the family" to one who says, "Aislinn isn't showing that she knows how to write." Sigh. Then, after that teacher, two more raved about how much improvement they've seen in Aislinn since the beginning of the year and how hard she works and how well she's participating in class. It really makes a difference how one feels about one's teacher.
Nabloclan Bookkeeping Services is now officially registered with CRA, I have a GST number and business is slowly but surely trickling in. A family whose taxes I did at H&R Block have brought me their business, which initially I thought was kind of them, and then I realized, these people have such strange lives - which is evident by their receipts - and they are just "normal" enough to know that their lives are strange that they wouldn't want to have to go through giving all that information out to another tax preparer! I thoroughly enjoy my work, and much of that is in enjoying the quirks of humanity.
Mom and Dad and much of the Fort St. John family have been in Saskatoon for the past two weeks, and depart for FSJ tomorrow. They won't be bringing Mom and Dad here because apparently my cats are a serious problem for Coral, and she can't stay in the same house overnight with them. Sigh. I didn't know how allergic Coral is until after we got Rascal for Meadow's birthday. Robin has fun with the cats while he's here. I thought the obvious answer was to put two of the three in the barn, but Jovani is protesting that because HE's attached to them in the house - but he's also attached to having Coral stay overnight here once in a while. He didn't realize until we got Meadow's cats that he prefers cats to dogs - though he loves the dogs too. It is a dilemma. Coral doesn't come so frequently that it seems a fair trade off to permanently kick the cats out, but we would like for her to come as infrequently as she does.
My husband is a big softy, and his heart is genuinely torn.
And I guess that's all she wrote for today.
During our snow play the girls lined up lying down side-by-side on the snow, and Mommy-of-the-lousy-aim did her best to use them as snowball target practice. They easily avoided my snowballs, even the big ones, but I had a heart-stopping moment when I hit Jessa right in the face. I expected a big wail. Of the three, she has the lowest tolerance for pain and discomfort. While I held my breath she dug the snow out from behind her glasses, wiped off her face and turned to me with a grin and a laugh. Phew! She's growing up, and I'm glad because she has been the one it has been most difficult to tell if she is truly in pain or if it has been much ado about nothing.
Last night was parent-teacher interviews at Aislinn's school. I've had a bit of drama with one of her teachers - her Language Arts and Religion teacher. As a by-the-by, this woman is going to Belize soon to assist in incorporating the Alberta school curriculum into the Belizean curriculum, to upgrade the level of education in Belize. Anyway, it seems that Aislinn has been underperforming in her class. We went from Aislinn's French teacher who said, "Your girl is doing FABULOUS" and "She has a real future in French", and "She's such a sweet girl" to the Language Arts and Religion teacher who is underwhelmed by Aislinn's effort. We figured out a couple of things - 1) Aislinn is intimidated by this teacher and 2.) Religion class does not equal "spiritual studies". The homework on "What do you think God's purpose for you in life is?" was NOT adequately answered by, "To love and to serve God and to be the best person I know how to be." I encouraged her in that answer - it sums it up, and all the rest is detail. However, the teacher wanted the detail. So, because it was my fault that Aislinn handed so little in, I am making her do the assignment over again over Easter so that the teacher can see what Aislinn is really capable of - and she can re-evaluate it or not. Jovani and I are both working on encouraging Aislinn to not be intimidated. She got over her fear of her phys ed teacher already, she can get over this difficulty and concentrate on doing as well as we know she is capable of doing. How very strange that Aislinn would graduate from one teacher who says, "I can tell that writing runs in the family" to one who says, "Aislinn isn't showing that she knows how to write." Sigh. Then, after that teacher, two more raved about how much improvement they've seen in Aislinn since the beginning of the year and how hard she works and how well she's participating in class. It really makes a difference how one feels about one's teacher.
Nabloclan Bookkeeping Services is now officially registered with CRA, I have a GST number and business is slowly but surely trickling in. A family whose taxes I did at H&R Block have brought me their business, which initially I thought was kind of them, and then I realized, these people have such strange lives - which is evident by their receipts - and they are just "normal" enough to know that their lives are strange that they wouldn't want to have to go through giving all that information out to another tax preparer! I thoroughly enjoy my work, and much of that is in enjoying the quirks of humanity.
Mom and Dad and much of the Fort St. John family have been in Saskatoon for the past two weeks, and depart for FSJ tomorrow. They won't be bringing Mom and Dad here because apparently my cats are a serious problem for Coral, and she can't stay in the same house overnight with them. Sigh. I didn't know how allergic Coral is until after we got Rascal for Meadow's birthday. Robin has fun with the cats while he's here. I thought the obvious answer was to put two of the three in the barn, but Jovani is protesting that because HE's attached to them in the house - but he's also attached to having Coral stay overnight here once in a while. He didn't realize until we got Meadow's cats that he prefers cats to dogs - though he loves the dogs too. It is a dilemma. Coral doesn't come so frequently that it seems a fair trade off to permanently kick the cats out, but we would like for her to come as infrequently as she does.
My husband is a big softy, and his heart is genuinely torn.
And I guess that's all she wrote for today.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Healing
Two weekends ago we were in Fort St. John to have a family Intercalary celebration. My sister, Coral, had also planned a big party for the Saturday night. It was a nice weekend of friends and family and extended family. Extended family for us means the various and sundry friends who are staying with one extension of the Nablo family or other. Both Laurel and Coral have non-family members living with them who participate in the major family events.
On Sunday morning, after the family gift exchange, which was primarily Coral, Laurel and Heather distributing gifts among the children, grandparents and random adults (random because we don't try to make sure that every adult has something, or at least, I didn't this year - if I found some small thing in Edmonton I thought one or the other would like, I picked it up, but I didn't stress myself out trying to get gifts for every adult - some adults in my family are very hard to buy for.), Laurel suggested we try an energy healing on my mother. Mom is in a lot of pain, and almost didn't make it to the celebration because she had been in too much pain the previous week and Dad was very reluctant to make her move outside at all in the cold, and stairs are difficult for her. She managed however, and I'm so grateful. Being surrounded by family and friends and taken care of so is good for her spirits. The only Nablo child not present was Andrea - five of six of us in one place isn't bad for our family, it is what we managed for the family reunion.
The principle behind the energy healing stems from reading that Laurel has been doing about the causes of pain being blocked energy, as well as principles of healing from 'Abdu'l-Baha that include the importance of the "laying on of hands". I was looking for the quote and couldn't find it. Prayer is also of great importance, so several of us, including Jovani, who is a "natural healer", in that he just senses where to touch when doing massage, placed our hands either on or close to places on my mother's body where she felt pain, in order to move the energy that caused the pain. I have never done this sort of thing but am aware enough of my mother's pain that I'm willing to try just about anything to help her. Heather has long believed in such forms of healing, and Laurel is coming around to it after many years of relying strictly on the commonly-accepted forms of medicine.
While we focused on the energy in this way, my sister, Coral, read the Long Healing Prayer by Baha'u'llah. When she finished that, Lisa, one of the extended family members, sang what I can only assume was a prayer in another language, very beautifully.
A number of notable things happened. First, before we did the hands-on healing, Laurel did a test of each of us and how likely our own energy would be to effectively produce some healing. We held our hands, palms facing, a few inches apart, closed our eyes, and imagined a spinning ball of fire between our hands, then tried, slowly, to distance our hands from each other. Those of us who could "feel" the energy between the palms were those who placed our hands around Mom. What stunned me was that I called Aislinn, who has very good hands for massage, to test her energy, and when she came to me her hands were freezing. I told her what to do, and within 30 seconds her hands were warm to the point of being hot. I couldn't believe it. Forget friction, when you've got healing hands, a little bit of well-directed energy is all the warming you need. Later she tried it again, and told me that she could actually see the spinning ball of fire between her hands, she didn't need to close her eyes to imagine it. My adult's logic says she has a great imagination, my knowledge of my daughter believes that she's a potent source of energy.
Jovani and Heather placed their hands over the spots which cause my mother the most pain. I situated myself opposite them, but found quickly that my own pain in my sciatic hip and my arthritic knees didn't allow me to focus well on healing my mother's pain, so I soon just gave up in favour of caressing her forehead and hair, which I know she loves.
By the end of the healing, Jovani's left hand, which had not even touched Mom and is his strongest, was in severe pain, and Heather was in tears. Heather does not weep easily. She felt the energy moving but also felt when it was just too blocked for her to move it anymore. My daughter, Jessamine, who is her grandmother's most constant companion after Grandpa, also was suffering pain in her hand and arm. Jovani and Heather had both had to take breaks from the healing process to shake the energy off of their fingertips to be able to continue. A couple of us helped to rechannel the painful energy out of Jovani's and Jessa's hands. It took about a half hour, but the pain in their hands did leave. I've never seen anything quite like it.
Unfortunately, I believe that the causes of my mother's pain are too advanced for such healing to provide anything but temporary relaxation.
However, the whole process has had me meditating quite a bit on the more subtle forces at work in our bodies and spirits. In some ways, prayer is a form of energy, positive energy, and during this time of the Fast I am truly feeling it is the best gift I can give those with whom I have spiritual connections - sometimes a connection based on nothing more than an acknowledgment of a connection and love. I wonder if such spiritual connections can be created were we to pray for those with whom we feel no particular closeness? I imagine so, but the Fast this year is being dedicated in prayer to two people in particular, and I don't know why, just that my soul prompts me to do so, and I am following the prompting. Perhaps the spiritual energy of prayer will prompt healing in all of our souls.
On Sunday morning, after the family gift exchange, which was primarily Coral, Laurel and Heather distributing gifts among the children, grandparents and random adults (random because we don't try to make sure that every adult has something, or at least, I didn't this year - if I found some small thing in Edmonton I thought one or the other would like, I picked it up, but I didn't stress myself out trying to get gifts for every adult - some adults in my family are very hard to buy for.), Laurel suggested we try an energy healing on my mother. Mom is in a lot of pain, and almost didn't make it to the celebration because she had been in too much pain the previous week and Dad was very reluctant to make her move outside at all in the cold, and stairs are difficult for her. She managed however, and I'm so grateful. Being surrounded by family and friends and taken care of so is good for her spirits. The only Nablo child not present was Andrea - five of six of us in one place isn't bad for our family, it is what we managed for the family reunion.
The principle behind the energy healing stems from reading that Laurel has been doing about the causes of pain being blocked energy, as well as principles of healing from 'Abdu'l-Baha that include the importance of the "laying on of hands". I was looking for the quote and couldn't find it. Prayer is also of great importance, so several of us, including Jovani, who is a "natural healer", in that he just senses where to touch when doing massage, placed our hands either on or close to places on my mother's body where she felt pain, in order to move the energy that caused the pain. I have never done this sort of thing but am aware enough of my mother's pain that I'm willing to try just about anything to help her. Heather has long believed in such forms of healing, and Laurel is coming around to it after many years of relying strictly on the commonly-accepted forms of medicine.
While we focused on the energy in this way, my sister, Coral, read the Long Healing Prayer by Baha'u'llah. When she finished that, Lisa, one of the extended family members, sang what I can only assume was a prayer in another language, very beautifully.
A number of notable things happened. First, before we did the hands-on healing, Laurel did a test of each of us and how likely our own energy would be to effectively produce some healing. We held our hands, palms facing, a few inches apart, closed our eyes, and imagined a spinning ball of fire between our hands, then tried, slowly, to distance our hands from each other. Those of us who could "feel" the energy between the palms were those who placed our hands around Mom. What stunned me was that I called Aislinn, who has very good hands for massage, to test her energy, and when she came to me her hands were freezing. I told her what to do, and within 30 seconds her hands were warm to the point of being hot. I couldn't believe it. Forget friction, when you've got healing hands, a little bit of well-directed energy is all the warming you need. Later she tried it again, and told me that she could actually see the spinning ball of fire between her hands, she didn't need to close her eyes to imagine it. My adult's logic says she has a great imagination, my knowledge of my daughter believes that she's a potent source of energy.
Jovani and Heather placed their hands over the spots which cause my mother the most pain. I situated myself opposite them, but found quickly that my own pain in my sciatic hip and my arthritic knees didn't allow me to focus well on healing my mother's pain, so I soon just gave up in favour of caressing her forehead and hair, which I know she loves.
By the end of the healing, Jovani's left hand, which had not even touched Mom and is his strongest, was in severe pain, and Heather was in tears. Heather does not weep easily. She felt the energy moving but also felt when it was just too blocked for her to move it anymore. My daughter, Jessamine, who is her grandmother's most constant companion after Grandpa, also was suffering pain in her hand and arm. Jovani and Heather had both had to take breaks from the healing process to shake the energy off of their fingertips to be able to continue. A couple of us helped to rechannel the painful energy out of Jovani's and Jessa's hands. It took about a half hour, but the pain in their hands did leave. I've never seen anything quite like it.
Unfortunately, I believe that the causes of my mother's pain are too advanced for such healing to provide anything but temporary relaxation.
However, the whole process has had me meditating quite a bit on the more subtle forces at work in our bodies and spirits. In some ways, prayer is a form of energy, positive energy, and during this time of the Fast I am truly feeling it is the best gift I can give those with whom I have spiritual connections - sometimes a connection based on nothing more than an acknowledgment of a connection and love. I wonder if such spiritual connections can be created were we to pray for those with whom we feel no particular closeness? I imagine so, but the Fast this year is being dedicated in prayer to two people in particular, and I don't know why, just that my soul prompts me to do so, and I am following the prompting. Perhaps the spiritual energy of prayer will prompt healing in all of our souls.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Edmonton report +
Before I report on our trip to Edmonton, may I recommend to anyone interested that my sister, Heather's, blog which I have just begun to read because the whole notion of a blog is so new to me, though she informed us of its start a long time ago, is thought-provoking. I have just finished reading her thoughts and the thoughts of someone she quoted on forgiveness, and it is all worth a considered read. Probably far more worth reading than anything I'm likely to share today.
Jovani and the girls and I made a trip to Edmonton so that I could see a doctor referred by my GP. While I'm not interested in reporting the nature of the problem that led to the referral on this medium, let me just report that I am fine, there IS no problem. I didn't think there would be, neither my GP nor I was worried, but we agreed better safe than sorry. I am safe, for the time being, and now I know that I am too.
The weekend was made into a family trip. My daughter, Aislinn's, best Baha'i buddy lives in St. Albert, so I made reservations for our second night, Sunday, at the Ramada Inn and Waterpark, and invited Taea's family to join us for a swim in the hotel's pool. They took us out for a lovely all-you-can-eat-buffet brunch at the Greenwood Inn. Fabulous food and fabulous new friends. Jovani and I delight in these new friends, whom we met at Baha'i summer school, in part because Jovani and Mladen share the same sense of humour in many things, many interests, and Mladen is Croatian. He's the only Croatian we know, and we LOVE diversity - if we wanted all our friends to be white Canadian women born in Quebec and raised in Belize, married to well-traveled brown Honduran men, with children born and raised in Belize and Canada, we'd be pretty limited, wouldn't we? The Croat in Mladen comes out in intriguing moments.
I'm a bit ahead of myself, however. The first night we stayed in Leduc, at the home of Karin and Ian Ferguson. Karin and I go back to when we met on Baha'i Women Converse when I was still in Belize, needing contact through the internet outside of Belize. Aislinn was a baby at the time. Then Karin and Ian pioneered to Belize, and we left while they were still there. We did a lot of commiserating over our experiences. Karin made a lovely dinner for us. We had stopped at an IGA on the way there and bought dessert and some non-alcoholic wine. The wine was interesting to me. I've never had the real stuff so didn't know what to compare it to, but, when I was in my early teens, a girlfriend of mine, who also did not drink, and I had enough curiosity to know what it all tasted like that we decided to smell every bottle in her dad's liquor cabinet. The taste of this non-alcoholic wine was so very similar to that smell, and the lingering smell of just about every bar I've ever walked into, that I kept checking the label to make sure I hadn't misread it. After I had finished off two glasses of my own and a couple of the girls', because it wasn't what they expected (they like the sparkling grape juices), I decided it couldn't be alcoholic because, with never having had any but an accidental mouthful in my life, three glasses would have made me decidedly tipsy had I misread the label. Not to mention that my husband, during his drinking days, got violently ill after one beer, so he would be unlikely to be able to keep it down if I had misread the label.
Karin and Ian are moving to another apartment, and Karin felt disinclined to pack a lot of stuff to take with them, I guess, and it isn't exactly garage sale season, so we left with the trunk of the car considerably fuller than when we arrived. Of particular note is the coffee maker they gave us - one that can be programmed and has a thermos rather than an element to keep the coffee warm. THAT I was most delighted to accept. Didn't even have to press a button when I got up this morning.
So, we arrived at the Greenwood Inn to meet Mladen and Lorine and family shortly before 11 a.m. The Ryhards were a little late, so Meadow, one HAPPY camper, had her fill of strawberries while Jovani and I had our coffee. We ate when the Ryhards arrived, a most excellent, multi-national buffet, too much to possibly even try one of everything, and then we motored down to the Ramada, where Jovani and the children swam and Lorine and Mladen and I chatted. I had a touch of a cold and little desire to swim feeling that way. Before the swimming, I made a quick phone call to our friends Nooshin and Darius Naqvi, to let them know where we were if they were able to join us.
This next part requires a bit of explanation. Remember we live in WHITESVILLE, Northern Alberta. Save for the recent influx of Filipinos, there are all of about ten non-white people in our area, including Jovani and our children, and our children only look non-white compared to all the blondes in the area. The visible minorities are very visible, and we only know them professionally. None are people who would be calling either of us on the phone.
Roughly over a month ago I was IM'd by a delightful East Indian friend I had met in Swift Current the first year we were in Canada. I had not heard from him in the three years since then, but we had several conversations over the internet more recently. He knew nothing (that I could remember having told him) about our bakery in Belize or what we made there. He also did not, to my knowledge, have our phone number here. That sort of thing is easy enough to look up on the internet, I suppose. In any case, a few days before we left for Edmonton, the phone rang. I answered, and it was a very deep, masculine East Indian voice saying, "Do you have any Nablo's Bakery whole wheat bread?"
Blink.
My first thought was, "This is Robin (my brother) playing a joke on me. Nah, he just called earlier today and he's in Honduras, so I don't think so." Robin is good at all accents, so it was a reasonable first thought. My second thought was that it was the above-mentioned friend, but I discarded that thought just as quickly - if he remembered we ran a bakery in Belize, he wouldn't know the name of it or what we sold. I also dismissed the possibility because he is WAY too busy to be playing jokes like that.
The voice was still talking and asking for bread, and FINALLY introduced itself. "This is Ram from Belize, remember me?"
As a matter of fact, I did, instantly. Ram and his wife had a restaurant in Belize, briefly, and I had one of the best meals I've ever had there. Entirely vegan too. Ram was standing in Nooshin's store, where they had been chatting when he mentioned Belize, she mentioned us, he asked for the phone number and .... So, after the swim, Jovani called Ram to let him know where we were if he wanted to come see us. He and his wife (whose name I forget, again) and their lovely daughter, Suni, came and sat in Smitty's with us, and Nooshin and Darius, for a little while after the Ryhards left (and Aislinn and Taea had a very reluctant good-bye). I had considered not calling Ram, despite his encouragement to do so, because our time in Edmonton was already so full, but I'm so glad we did. I think it was something both families needed, in some way or other.
That day was Jovani's birthday, and interestingly enough, the day before had been Nooshin's. Nooshin brought the remainder of her birthday ice cream cake for everyone. We all sang happy birthday to them. After all the lovely guests left, the Vasquez family dragged ourselves up to the hotel room, where my computer-whiz daughter, Aislinn, got me connected to the internet on my laptop so we could all check our mail, I ordered delivery Swiss Chalet for Jovani for his birthday dinner and pizza and chicken wings for the girls and I, and they watched movies and I read until it was time to sleep. I will share an amusing thing about this - my family was not familiar with either food delivery or wake-up calls. When I called the front desk to ask for a 6 a.m. wake-up call, Jovani looked at me wide-eyed and said, "You can do that?" It has been almost five years, and he still is learning both big and little differences between North America and Central America. Actually, any major hotel in Central America would provide a wake-up call, but he's not accustomed to staying in hotels. My family is still at the stage of enjoying a stay in a hotel room as a grand adventure. May they continue to be delighted by such simple things.
My doctor's appointment on Monday morning took a full three hours, but it was three hours well worth it. When we got in to the clinic in the morning, and I checked in, I told the receptionist, "My family is with me, can you tell me how long I can tell them they will have to wait?" She responded, "Two and a half hours."
I turned around to inform Jovani of this, suggesting that he take them somewhere else for that time. He refused - I had been directing him while he drove, and he didn't want to get lost. The girls all complained that they wanted to go somewhere else, and I said, (in front of a gentleman sitting in the waiting room), "Sorry, girls, Daddy isn't taking you anywhere else because Mommy's the navigator and Daddy doesn't want to get lost." The grin on the other gentleman's face grew so big I thought his face was going to split.
So, the girls sat down to play a quiet game, and invited Jovani to join, which he did, quite happily, while the already huge grin on the other gentleman's face got even bigger, if that's possible. It is a game requiring coordination and Jovani didn't have any! Apparently after I was called in and the receptionist had a free half hour, she joined them and taught them a game too. Jovani really appreciated her help.
After the appt, we drove over to the West Edmonton Mall so that Jessa could see the fire-breathing dragon in the cinema. Unfortunately, Jessa just wanted to go home by the time we left the dr, AND, it was the one day there was no fire-breathing dragon, due to maintenance. There was a dragon, but no fire, and Jessa didn't care by that time. We still managed to stop at two other little places in the mall to get a few Intercalary Day gifts, and actually, where we entered the mall was a Chinese store that had live seafood in tanks. I knew it would delight Jovani, and Aislinn, the other person familiar with the store from her grade six trip, helped me to make Jovani cover his eyes and then lead him to the seafood section. He's just so fun to share new experiences with, his childlike delight in everything is contagious.
The girls each touched a live crab, and we bought a few small exotic juices and things. Jovani laughed and ooh-ed and aah-ed at every new thing. The live seafood. The fountain with live carp. The large, long, scaly silver tail that led up to the dragon that didn't breathe fire that day. He wasn't too impressed, (and neither were the girls) to see the men kissing. This is not homophobia on his part - a beloved cousin of his was gay, and died of AIDS in Honduras. I didn't see the PDA in the mall, and didn't turn to see it when Jovani mentioned it. I don't particularly enjoy watching PDA's, either hetero or homo. However, then Jovani described it, a little stunned that it had happened (we really are country hicks) and it sounded cultural rather than sexual and I said so. He acknowledged it could have been so. It did bother Jessa and Aislinn though, and all I could say is that most people don't care what strangers think of them.
So, we left the mall, tired and mostly happy (Jessa was WAY past wanting to go home), and, because I had forgotten to get directions from the internet on how to get out of Edmonton from the West Ed on to the right highway, we wound up taking the scenic route through St. Albert and Morinville, and eventually getting on the highway that took us through Slave Lake rather than the other route through Whitecourt. It may have been a bit longer, but Jovani has long wanted to know where Morinville is and we had never been through St. Albert, so it was worth relying on my intuition and vague memories of which highway we were supposed to be on to see something new, tired and grumpy though we were.
We arrived home shortly after 10 p.m. on Monday night. Sushi just about went nuts when I walked in the door, not knowing whether she wanted to wag her tail or try to climb up my leg. I picked her up and she licked my face while her whole body went crazy in an ecstatic wag. We went to bed very quickly, and I let the girls sleep in before getting them up to go to school. Grandpa drove Aislinn into town a couple of hours late.
And now I have cupcakes to make for the annual Intercalary lunch that I make for Whitelaw school. Happy Ayyam-i-Ha, everyone.
Jovani and the girls and I made a trip to Edmonton so that I could see a doctor referred by my GP. While I'm not interested in reporting the nature of the problem that led to the referral on this medium, let me just report that I am fine, there IS no problem. I didn't think there would be, neither my GP nor I was worried, but we agreed better safe than sorry. I am safe, for the time being, and now I know that I am too.
The weekend was made into a family trip. My daughter, Aislinn's, best Baha'i buddy lives in St. Albert, so I made reservations for our second night, Sunday, at the Ramada Inn and Waterpark, and invited Taea's family to join us for a swim in the hotel's pool. They took us out for a lovely all-you-can-eat-buffet brunch at the Greenwood Inn. Fabulous food and fabulous new friends. Jovani and I delight in these new friends, whom we met at Baha'i summer school, in part because Jovani and Mladen share the same sense of humour in many things, many interests, and Mladen is Croatian. He's the only Croatian we know, and we LOVE diversity - if we wanted all our friends to be white Canadian women born in Quebec and raised in Belize, married to well-traveled brown Honduran men, with children born and raised in Belize and Canada, we'd be pretty limited, wouldn't we? The Croat in Mladen comes out in intriguing moments.
I'm a bit ahead of myself, however. The first night we stayed in Leduc, at the home of Karin and Ian Ferguson. Karin and I go back to when we met on Baha'i Women Converse when I was still in Belize, needing contact through the internet outside of Belize. Aislinn was a baby at the time. Then Karin and Ian pioneered to Belize, and we left while they were still there. We did a lot of commiserating over our experiences. Karin made a lovely dinner for us. We had stopped at an IGA on the way there and bought dessert and some non-alcoholic wine. The wine was interesting to me. I've never had the real stuff so didn't know what to compare it to, but, when I was in my early teens, a girlfriend of mine, who also did not drink, and I had enough curiosity to know what it all tasted like that we decided to smell every bottle in her dad's liquor cabinet. The taste of this non-alcoholic wine was so very similar to that smell, and the lingering smell of just about every bar I've ever walked into, that I kept checking the label to make sure I hadn't misread it. After I had finished off two glasses of my own and a couple of the girls', because it wasn't what they expected (they like the sparkling grape juices), I decided it couldn't be alcoholic because, with never having had any but an accidental mouthful in my life, three glasses would have made me decidedly tipsy had I misread the label. Not to mention that my husband, during his drinking days, got violently ill after one beer, so he would be unlikely to be able to keep it down if I had misread the label.
Karin and Ian are moving to another apartment, and Karin felt disinclined to pack a lot of stuff to take with them, I guess, and it isn't exactly garage sale season, so we left with the trunk of the car considerably fuller than when we arrived. Of particular note is the coffee maker they gave us - one that can be programmed and has a thermos rather than an element to keep the coffee warm. THAT I was most delighted to accept. Didn't even have to press a button when I got up this morning.
So, we arrived at the Greenwood Inn to meet Mladen and Lorine and family shortly before 11 a.m. The Ryhards were a little late, so Meadow, one HAPPY camper, had her fill of strawberries while Jovani and I had our coffee. We ate when the Ryhards arrived, a most excellent, multi-national buffet, too much to possibly even try one of everything, and then we motored down to the Ramada, where Jovani and the children swam and Lorine and Mladen and I chatted. I had a touch of a cold and little desire to swim feeling that way. Before the swimming, I made a quick phone call to our friends Nooshin and Darius Naqvi, to let them know where we were if they were able to join us.
This next part requires a bit of explanation. Remember we live in WHITESVILLE, Northern Alberta. Save for the recent influx of Filipinos, there are all of about ten non-white people in our area, including Jovani and our children, and our children only look non-white compared to all the blondes in the area. The visible minorities are very visible, and we only know them professionally. None are people who would be calling either of us on the phone.
Roughly over a month ago I was IM'd by a delightful East Indian friend I had met in Swift Current the first year we were in Canada. I had not heard from him in the three years since then, but we had several conversations over the internet more recently. He knew nothing (that I could remember having told him) about our bakery in Belize or what we made there. He also did not, to my knowledge, have our phone number here. That sort of thing is easy enough to look up on the internet, I suppose. In any case, a few days before we left for Edmonton, the phone rang. I answered, and it was a very deep, masculine East Indian voice saying, "Do you have any Nablo's Bakery whole wheat bread?"
Blink.
My first thought was, "This is Robin (my brother) playing a joke on me. Nah, he just called earlier today and he's in Honduras, so I don't think so." Robin is good at all accents, so it was a reasonable first thought. My second thought was that it was the above-mentioned friend, but I discarded that thought just as quickly - if he remembered we ran a bakery in Belize, he wouldn't know the name of it or what we sold. I also dismissed the possibility because he is WAY too busy to be playing jokes like that.
The voice was still talking and asking for bread, and FINALLY introduced itself. "This is Ram from Belize, remember me?"
As a matter of fact, I did, instantly. Ram and his wife had a restaurant in Belize, briefly, and I had one of the best meals I've ever had there. Entirely vegan too. Ram was standing in Nooshin's store, where they had been chatting when he mentioned Belize, she mentioned us, he asked for the phone number and .... So, after the swim, Jovani called Ram to let him know where we were if he wanted to come see us. He and his wife (whose name I forget, again) and their lovely daughter, Suni, came and sat in Smitty's with us, and Nooshin and Darius, for a little while after the Ryhards left (and Aislinn and Taea had a very reluctant good-bye). I had considered not calling Ram, despite his encouragement to do so, because our time in Edmonton was already so full, but I'm so glad we did. I think it was something both families needed, in some way or other.
That day was Jovani's birthday, and interestingly enough, the day before had been Nooshin's. Nooshin brought the remainder of her birthday ice cream cake for everyone. We all sang happy birthday to them. After all the lovely guests left, the Vasquez family dragged ourselves up to the hotel room, where my computer-whiz daughter, Aislinn, got me connected to the internet on my laptop so we could all check our mail, I ordered delivery Swiss Chalet for Jovani for his birthday dinner and pizza and chicken wings for the girls and I, and they watched movies and I read until it was time to sleep. I will share an amusing thing about this - my family was not familiar with either food delivery or wake-up calls. When I called the front desk to ask for a 6 a.m. wake-up call, Jovani looked at me wide-eyed and said, "You can do that?" It has been almost five years, and he still is learning both big and little differences between North America and Central America. Actually, any major hotel in Central America would provide a wake-up call, but he's not accustomed to staying in hotels. My family is still at the stage of enjoying a stay in a hotel room as a grand adventure. May they continue to be delighted by such simple things.
My doctor's appointment on Monday morning took a full three hours, but it was three hours well worth it. When we got in to the clinic in the morning, and I checked in, I told the receptionist, "My family is with me, can you tell me how long I can tell them they will have to wait?" She responded, "Two and a half hours."
I turned around to inform Jovani of this, suggesting that he take them somewhere else for that time. He refused - I had been directing him while he drove, and he didn't want to get lost. The girls all complained that they wanted to go somewhere else, and I said, (in front of a gentleman sitting in the waiting room), "Sorry, girls, Daddy isn't taking you anywhere else because Mommy's the navigator and Daddy doesn't want to get lost." The grin on the other gentleman's face grew so big I thought his face was going to split.
So, the girls sat down to play a quiet game, and invited Jovani to join, which he did, quite happily, while the already huge grin on the other gentleman's face got even bigger, if that's possible. It is a game requiring coordination and Jovani didn't have any! Apparently after I was called in and the receptionist had a free half hour, she joined them and taught them a game too. Jovani really appreciated her help.
After the appt, we drove over to the West Edmonton Mall so that Jessa could see the fire-breathing dragon in the cinema. Unfortunately, Jessa just wanted to go home by the time we left the dr, AND, it was the one day there was no fire-breathing dragon, due to maintenance. There was a dragon, but no fire, and Jessa didn't care by that time. We still managed to stop at two other little places in the mall to get a few Intercalary Day gifts, and actually, where we entered the mall was a Chinese store that had live seafood in tanks. I knew it would delight Jovani, and Aislinn, the other person familiar with the store from her grade six trip, helped me to make Jovani cover his eyes and then lead him to the seafood section. He's just so fun to share new experiences with, his childlike delight in everything is contagious.
The girls each touched a live crab, and we bought a few small exotic juices and things. Jovani laughed and ooh-ed and aah-ed at every new thing. The live seafood. The fountain with live carp. The large, long, scaly silver tail that led up to the dragon that didn't breathe fire that day. He wasn't too impressed, (and neither were the girls) to see the men kissing. This is not homophobia on his part - a beloved cousin of his was gay, and died of AIDS in Honduras. I didn't see the PDA in the mall, and didn't turn to see it when Jovani mentioned it. I don't particularly enjoy watching PDA's, either hetero or homo. However, then Jovani described it, a little stunned that it had happened (we really are country hicks) and it sounded cultural rather than sexual and I said so. He acknowledged it could have been so. It did bother Jessa and Aislinn though, and all I could say is that most people don't care what strangers think of them.
So, we left the mall, tired and mostly happy (Jessa was WAY past wanting to go home), and, because I had forgotten to get directions from the internet on how to get out of Edmonton from the West Ed on to the right highway, we wound up taking the scenic route through St. Albert and Morinville, and eventually getting on the highway that took us through Slave Lake rather than the other route through Whitecourt. It may have been a bit longer, but Jovani has long wanted to know where Morinville is and we had never been through St. Albert, so it was worth relying on my intuition and vague memories of which highway we were supposed to be on to see something new, tired and grumpy though we were.
We arrived home shortly after 10 p.m. on Monday night. Sushi just about went nuts when I walked in the door, not knowing whether she wanted to wag her tail or try to climb up my leg. I picked her up and she licked my face while her whole body went crazy in an ecstatic wag. We went to bed very quickly, and I let the girls sleep in before getting them up to go to school. Grandpa drove Aislinn into town a couple of hours late.
And now I have cupcakes to make for the annual Intercalary lunch that I make for Whitelaw school. Happy Ayyam-i-Ha, everyone.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Vitamin D-filled Day
Sushi and I went out for a good long walk in the sunshine today - what a gloriously bright, sunny day. We met up with a black dog who was interested in Sushi but Sushi soon discovered she was not willing to share me, and couldn't decide between growling at the interloper and whining at me to pick her up so she didn't have to. I picked her up and got her out of there quickly, growling at the other dog a few times myself to scare it away. I didn't like Sushi barking at it from right over my shoulder.
The snowflakes were sparkling everywhere - on the ground, in the trees, the ones that the slight breeze was blowing off the trees and causing to flitter down to the street. Made me wish for any skill at all with a camera. I had invited Meadow to come for a walk with me, she's the one who loves to get outside with me or her daddy, but she chose not to because of the cold. I wish she had come - it wasn't that cold, there was very little breeze, and she loves the sparkles and other subtle beauties of the out-of-doors.
I have an Aislinn story. Aunt Heather and Uncle Bernie were here for a quick visit on the weekend. We were sitting around the table, and Aunt Heather said a four-letter-word while telling a story. I reflexively turned to cover my 13-yr-old's ears (a mother's habit - I know she hears worse all the time). Aunt Heather said, "Oh, I'm sorry, Aislinn. But I bet you hear worse than that every day on the bus, don't you?" Aislinn nods her head, "Yeah." Aunt Heather says, "Well, I'm not perfect, and I do things I shouldn't sometimes. So I'll just ask your forgiveness now for any mistakes I make in your presence for the next ten years." Without blinking Aislinn lifts her hand in solute and says, "Same here."
We all burst out laughing, and I high-fived Aislinn. She's got a quick brain and maturity of understanding for a 13 year old.
I'd also like to share a bit of advancement of my seven-year-old. That's grade two. We started Alberta Family Day with family prayers this morning on Mommy and Daddy's bed, and Meadow chose to read one from the prayer book. Almost smoothly and only having Mommy correct her when she started reading the same line over again, she read this prayer by herself:
O my Lord! Make Thy beauty to be my food, and Thy presence my drink, and Thy pleasure my hope, and praise of Thee my action, and remembrance of Thee my companion, and the power of Thy sovereignty my succorer, and Thy habitation my home, and my dwelling-place the seat Thou hast sanctified from the limitations imposed upon them who are shut out as by a veil from Thee.
Thou art, verily, the Almighty, the All-Glorious, the Most Powerful.
—Bahá’u’lláh
She got the word "sovereignty" without a hitch. The only one she stumbled on a bit was "sanctified" - and she did get it without help from me.
I made the mistake the other day, however, of refusing to do the phonics homework that her teacher was sending home with her, because they were the same assignments for the grades one, two and three, and I knew Meadow's reading level was way higher than those assignments already, and I told her they were a "waste of time." I didn't know she was supposed to be collecting them all in a duo-tang to take them back to school (I knew about the duo-tang but not that the complete work would go back to school), so when it became apparent to Meadow that she was not going to have her completed project to hand in, she got very distressed and informed her teacher that "Mommy isn't doing them with me because it is a waste of time." Verbatim, of course.
Fortunately, Mrs. Turner is pretty laid back and I apologized to her in person and explained that I didn't know the whole thing had to be handed in. She also understands that Meadow's reading level IS way ahead of grade two, but she's got the challenge of two other grade two children whose reading level is a little below grade two. I can't imagine what it must be like to be planning classes for a three-level-split when there are differences in ability in one grade alone.
Next weekend we are taking a family trip to Edmonton. I have a dr's appointment on Monday morning, and don't drive in the city, especially a city I don't know (which is all of them, at the moment, though I'm getting accustomed to Grande Prairie enough that I could probably manage, and Peace River, which isn't technically a city), so Jovani is driving me, and we're going on Saturday with all the girls so that we can visit with friends and the girls can have a taste of city for a bit. We are staying in a hotel with a water park and water slides on Sunday night, where one of Aislinn's best buddies will join us, and I've promised Jessa that we will at least take her to the cinema at the West Edmonton Mall so she can see the fire-breathing dragon. Both Aislinn and Meadow have seen it. The children are counting down the days. I'm looking forward to it as well. I am a little worried about leaving Sushi behind - Mom says that on the day we went grocery shopping, Sushi whined for me almost the whole time. Three days without me? Oh well, she'll just have to get used to it.
And this is the extent of my inspiration for the day.
The snowflakes were sparkling everywhere - on the ground, in the trees, the ones that the slight breeze was blowing off the trees and causing to flitter down to the street. Made me wish for any skill at all with a camera. I had invited Meadow to come for a walk with me, she's the one who loves to get outside with me or her daddy, but she chose not to because of the cold. I wish she had come - it wasn't that cold, there was very little breeze, and she loves the sparkles and other subtle beauties of the out-of-doors.
I have an Aislinn story. Aunt Heather and Uncle Bernie were here for a quick visit on the weekend. We were sitting around the table, and Aunt Heather said a four-letter-word while telling a story. I reflexively turned to cover my 13-yr-old's ears (a mother's habit - I know she hears worse all the time). Aunt Heather said, "Oh, I'm sorry, Aislinn. But I bet you hear worse than that every day on the bus, don't you?" Aislinn nods her head, "Yeah." Aunt Heather says, "Well, I'm not perfect, and I do things I shouldn't sometimes. So I'll just ask your forgiveness now for any mistakes I make in your presence for the next ten years." Without blinking Aislinn lifts her hand in solute and says, "Same here."
We all burst out laughing, and I high-fived Aislinn. She's got a quick brain and maturity of understanding for a 13 year old.
I'd also like to share a bit of advancement of my seven-year-old. That's grade two. We started Alberta Family Day with family prayers this morning on Mommy and Daddy's bed, and Meadow chose to read one from the prayer book. Almost smoothly and only having Mommy correct her when she started reading the same line over again, she read this prayer by herself:
O my Lord! Make Thy beauty to be my food, and Thy presence my drink, and Thy pleasure my hope, and praise of Thee my action, and remembrance of Thee my companion, and the power of Thy sovereignty my succorer, and Thy habitation my home, and my dwelling-place the seat Thou hast sanctified from the limitations imposed upon them who are shut out as by a veil from Thee.
Thou art, verily, the Almighty, the All-Glorious, the Most Powerful.
—Bahá’u’lláh
She got the word "sovereignty" without a hitch. The only one she stumbled on a bit was "sanctified" - and she did get it without help from me.
I made the mistake the other day, however, of refusing to do the phonics homework that her teacher was sending home with her, because they were the same assignments for the grades one, two and three, and I knew Meadow's reading level was way higher than those assignments already, and I told her they were a "waste of time." I didn't know she was supposed to be collecting them all in a duo-tang to take them back to school (I knew about the duo-tang but not that the complete work would go back to school), so when it became apparent to Meadow that she was not going to have her completed project to hand in, she got very distressed and informed her teacher that "Mommy isn't doing them with me because it is a waste of time." Verbatim, of course.
Fortunately, Mrs. Turner is pretty laid back and I apologized to her in person and explained that I didn't know the whole thing had to be handed in. She also understands that Meadow's reading level IS way ahead of grade two, but she's got the challenge of two other grade two children whose reading level is a little below grade two. I can't imagine what it must be like to be planning classes for a three-level-split when there are differences in ability in one grade alone.
Next weekend we are taking a family trip to Edmonton. I have a dr's appointment on Monday morning, and don't drive in the city, especially a city I don't know (which is all of them, at the moment, though I'm getting accustomed to Grande Prairie enough that I could probably manage, and Peace River, which isn't technically a city), so Jovani is driving me, and we're going on Saturday with all the girls so that we can visit with friends and the girls can have a taste of city for a bit. We are staying in a hotel with a water park and water slides on Sunday night, where one of Aislinn's best buddies will join us, and I've promised Jessa that we will at least take her to the cinema at the West Edmonton Mall so she can see the fire-breathing dragon. Both Aislinn and Meadow have seen it. The children are counting down the days. I'm looking forward to it as well. I am a little worried about leaving Sushi behind - Mom says that on the day we went grocery shopping, Sushi whined for me almost the whole time. Three days without me? Oh well, she'll just have to get used to it.
And this is the extent of my inspiration for the day.
Friday, February 13, 2009
We woke to a day on which my daughter, Meadow, would say 'The fairies have come out to play." Hoar frost on all the trees, and misty grey everywhere. It was a lazy day for me. I read part of a romance novel, dozed off and then got up to take my dog, Sushi, for a good long walk. I had also trimmed Sushi's eyebrows and did a little operation on her ingrown toenail. I knew her paw was bothering her but didn't figure out that I could fix it without taking her to the vet until today. After the walk, I made a healthy supper, emphasis on the vegetables, with a little Honduran meat dish as a treat for my husband.
I'm Sylvia Nablo de Vasquez. I was born in Hull, Quebec, on March 2, 1970. I speak only very little French as we moved to Saskatchewan when I was four, and then down to Belize, Central America when I was eight. Over then next 28 years I've traveled back and forth between Canada and Belize, staying mostly in Belize. Now I'm back in Canada, living in a tiny hamlet in Northern Alberta. I am married to Jovani Vasquez of Honduras, and we have three delightful daughters, Aislinn, Jessamine and Meadow, ages 13, 10 and 7 respectively. My parents, Ron and Edna Nablo, also live with us. After we moved down to Belize they remained there for all but three years, until recently.
We are all members of the Baha'i Faith. My dear friend, David Moody, who suggested I start this blog, suggested that I offer this letter to anyone who wonders why I am a Baha'i:
16"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. 17For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. John 3:15-17
Funny how one can be so familiar with a passage, that it becomes something we take for granted, along with the understanding that usually goes with it. I honestly didn't think I would have an answer to your question any time soon. After all, it was fairly specific - what about my faith could I not live without. And remembering this is a heart question, not a head question. And wanting to be totally honest about it, not frame an answer intended to convince you, since it is a question about me, and knowing that there are many things about my faith that I love, but that being a specific one - what could I not live without. There are lots of things that excite me, motivate me, help me, things for which I am grateful, but what could I not live without? Throughout the day my mind wandered back to it periodically. The answer came to me rather suddenly, and it was a little more literal than I expected - "The Promise of World Peace". It can be found here: http://info.bahai.org/article-1-7-2-1.html. It is a statement put out by the Universal House of Justice in 1985, addressed to the Peoples of the World. Without the understanding and vision that this statement offers me, combined with many of Shoghi Effendi's writings explaining what world peace will look like and how we will achieve it, I expect, given my tendencies to depression, my compassion toward all the peoples of the world and our suffering, I would likely, quite literally, be suicidal. If my own salvation and inner peace was all I had to live for, I'd probably decide to take a short cut out of this world and let God help me through the sin of having taken my own life. There's some brutal honesty for you.
It goes a bit further than that, though. I had never thought about it quite in this context before, but that passage from John is very limited if we understand it to mean that Jesus gave His life only for personal salvation. He didn't, He gave it to "save the world through him". Finding everlasting spiritual life is an individual thing. The world is a collective, and His sacrifice would be wasted if the world is not saved through the creation of His Kingdom on earth. Why? Because the two thousand years and ever-increasing personal suffering in the world is pointless if Christ didn't come to eventually end that suffering. I have to believe there is a better future than the agony and personal hell through which the world is going through right now would suggest. Being satisfied that I and a few other Christians are saved spiritually is small recompense for enduring the widespread suffering of innocents in the world, regardless of Faith. Yes, the purpose of the suffering is to bring the world closer to God. But so that we all come to believe in Jesus? No. So that His promised Kingdom can find reality in the world, literally and spiritually.
When 9/11 happened, I stood watching the second airplane fly into the second tower and knew that, if my children had not already been born, I would not choose to have children. I had my children already though, so I have had to find something that gave me purpose and hope for their future, and my grandchildren's future, and the future of all the children of the world. A hope that they remain faithful to Christ so that they might find eternal life, while ardent, would not have been enough for me to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Baha'u'llah, may my entire life be a sacrifice to Him, has given me the understanding of why we must endure hell on earth, for now. There is a purpose to it. Baha'u'llah explains it. Shoghi Effendi explains it. The Universal House of Justice, in letters to the Baha'is of the world every year, explains it. The Promise of World Peace explains it. We are undergoing the growth pains of a world on the threshold of maturity. It will get worse before it gets better. But it WILL get better. And if I didn't have that understanding and hope to cling to, with a clear idea of why it has to happen before it does get better, and something concrete that I can do to help the process along, well, I don't think I could live.
I was not going to take David's suggestion and share this letter with anyone else. It was from me to him, a very dear, close friend, but if I'm going to be blogging my life out to the universe, I might as well be honest about who I am and the purpose of my life. The rest can come later.
I'm Sylvia Nablo de Vasquez. I was born in Hull, Quebec, on March 2, 1970. I speak only very little French as we moved to Saskatchewan when I was four, and then down to Belize, Central America when I was eight. Over then next 28 years I've traveled back and forth between Canada and Belize, staying mostly in Belize. Now I'm back in Canada, living in a tiny hamlet in Northern Alberta. I am married to Jovani Vasquez of Honduras, and we have three delightful daughters, Aislinn, Jessamine and Meadow, ages 13, 10 and 7 respectively. My parents, Ron and Edna Nablo, also live with us. After we moved down to Belize they remained there for all but three years, until recently.
We are all members of the Baha'i Faith. My dear friend, David Moody, who suggested I start this blog, suggested that I offer this letter to anyone who wonders why I am a Baha'i:
16"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. 17For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. John 3:15-17
Funny how one can be so familiar with a passage, that it becomes something we take for granted, along with the understanding that usually goes with it. I honestly didn't think I would have an answer to your question any time soon. After all, it was fairly specific - what about my faith could I not live without. And remembering this is a heart question, not a head question. And wanting to be totally honest about it, not frame an answer intended to convince you, since it is a question about me, and knowing that there are many things about my faith that I love, but that being a specific one - what could I not live without. There are lots of things that excite me, motivate me, help me, things for which I am grateful, but what could I not live without? Throughout the day my mind wandered back to it periodically. The answer came to me rather suddenly, and it was a little more literal than I expected - "The Promise of World Peace". It can be found here: http://info.bahai.org/article-1-7-2-1.html. It is a statement put out by the Universal House of Justice in 1985, addressed to the Peoples of the World. Without the understanding and vision that this statement offers me, combined with many of Shoghi Effendi's writings explaining what world peace will look like and how we will achieve it, I expect, given my tendencies to depression, my compassion toward all the peoples of the world and our suffering, I would likely, quite literally, be suicidal. If my own salvation and inner peace was all I had to live for, I'd probably decide to take a short cut out of this world and let God help me through the sin of having taken my own life. There's some brutal honesty for you.
It goes a bit further than that, though. I had never thought about it quite in this context before, but that passage from John is very limited if we understand it to mean that Jesus gave His life only for personal salvation. He didn't, He gave it to "save the world through him". Finding everlasting spiritual life is an individual thing. The world is a collective, and His sacrifice would be wasted if the world is not saved through the creation of His Kingdom on earth. Why? Because the two thousand years and ever-increasing personal suffering in the world is pointless if Christ didn't come to eventually end that suffering. I have to believe there is a better future than the agony and personal hell through which the world is going through right now would suggest. Being satisfied that I and a few other Christians are saved spiritually is small recompense for enduring the widespread suffering of innocents in the world, regardless of Faith. Yes, the purpose of the suffering is to bring the world closer to God. But so that we all come to believe in Jesus? No. So that His promised Kingdom can find reality in the world, literally and spiritually.
When 9/11 happened, I stood watching the second airplane fly into the second tower and knew that, if my children had not already been born, I would not choose to have children. I had my children already though, so I have had to find something that gave me purpose and hope for their future, and my grandchildren's future, and the future of all the children of the world. A hope that they remain faithful to Christ so that they might find eternal life, while ardent, would not have been enough for me to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Baha'u'llah, may my entire life be a sacrifice to Him, has given me the understanding of why we must endure hell on earth, for now. There is a purpose to it. Baha'u'llah explains it. Shoghi Effendi explains it. The Universal House of Justice, in letters to the Baha'is of the world every year, explains it. The Promise of World Peace explains it. We are undergoing the growth pains of a world on the threshold of maturity. It will get worse before it gets better. But it WILL get better. And if I didn't have that understanding and hope to cling to, with a clear idea of why it has to happen before it does get better, and something concrete that I can do to help the process along, well, I don't think I could live.
I was not going to take David's suggestion and share this letter with anyone else. It was from me to him, a very dear, close friend, but if I'm going to be blogging my life out to the universe, I might as well be honest about who I am and the purpose of my life. The rest can come later.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
