Denial

I want to live in denial.

Surely the ending of this story isn’t coming.

Good-bye can’t really be as close as it feels.

Denial would be easiest but I have been trying to give myself doses of reality in hopes that the ending won’t be nearly as hard as I’m anticipating. There are 3 months left of tour. I can’t believe it. Soon, this life I am leading will be over and I’m not sure I’ll know what to do with myself.

Soon, I won’t have 21 hugs every morning. I won’t be wondering how to be a good parent. There won’t be moments of laughter when the children speak “Egyptian” or when we almost bounce out of our seats on the highway. I won’t be on call anymore…I wonder if I’ll sleep. The children really won’t be mine anymore since I’ll no longer be their legal guardian. I won’t laugh with Deborah, cuddle with Priscillah, play fight with Faith, chase after Reagan, dance with Grace, cook with James, sing with Ritah, joke with Charity, talk with Brian, be Rogers’ bag check…

The people that I have spent more time with in the last 12 months than anyone else in my whole life will no longer be just a bus seat away. No longer will I turn around from my seat at the front to see the people who have become my world this past year. After a year on the road, I know how things go, how we work as a team, the things that make tour life rough and the little things that restore joy. Somehow, knowing that I’ll be starting over at home makes leaving that behind that much harder.

In 3 months, this life of tour will just be a memory. Something I once did that was different than the norm. In my 30 years, this has easily been one of the best years of my life. Will there be another year like this, or 30 years from now will I look back and think this was still one of the best years of my life? One year from now, will I miss it or be glad that it is over?

Perhaps denial is better.

I wish...

I wish that life was fair.

I wish that life was balanced.

I wish that I understood the small things.

I wish that I could tell my mind to stop thinking long enough for sleep.

I wish that my children would know they are loved. By me.

I wish that I would know my children love. Love me.

I wish that the world was just a little bit smaller.

I wish that the world was just a little bit bigger.

I wish that I understood the generosity of many.

I wish that I understood the ignorance of few.

I wish that I could glimpse the future.

I wish that I could change the past.

I wish that love wasn't so elusive.

I wish that hope would be longer felt.

I wish that joy could be everlasting.

I wish that emotions could be more controlled.

I wish that I could be more understanding.

I wish that communication wasn't so demanding.

I wish that understanding wasn't so hard.

I wish that forgetting could be easier.

I wish that remembering could be longer.

I wish that endings didn't happen, but that beginnings still came.



I wish, I wish, I wish...

It's been a while...

I often sit down to write and then stare blankly at the page. It isn't that I don't have things floating around in my head to write about, it's that I don't often have the words with which to write. I read other people's blogs and wish I could be as eloquent. However, that is not to be, so instead, I sit and stare for awhile, write a few sentences, erase them and try again, erase some more and then finally just decided that today isn't the day.

Today's thoughts are a mixture of so many things - the amazing generosity of my supporters, people I love who come and go, how hard it really is to be a parent, weight issues on tour, planning the choir's schedule for our trip to Las Vegas, wondering if I'll be able to make it to Regina for my dear friend's wedding in October, thankful for the church stay that has been so refreshing, thinking about the end of tour and the next step, and the list goes on and on.

How is it even possible to put such a myriad of thoughts into one blog post? It's not, I don't think. And, when I try to separate out just one thought, it links into another thought and another and then the mess in my head becomes even more complicated.

Bah!

Home

Home is where the heart is. Is that true? Can the heart be in more than one place at the same time? Home is a debatable term, one that can hold many definitions, emotions, connections...

Having been "home" on vacation has made me miss my other "home". The bus and all the people that I currently spend every day with have become my home and yet being in Regina made me realize that I miss that home as well. I loved being with my family and friends, going to church, meeting with Pastor Dave, driving my car, but at the same time, I missed sitting on the bus squished in between two kids reading a book, laughing with Amy after sound check, hugs from Chelsea and a host of other daily routines that have become my normal life.

As we were driving away from our church this morning, I was sitting in my seat on the bus, and I turned to Vic and said that it was good to be home. Right now, at this moment of my life, Village 3 is home. It's the place that feels comfortable, right. It's the place I want to be when I curl up to read a book or when I need a moment of solitude. It is also the place where I feel surrounded by love and laughter, hopes and dreams, chaos and moments of confusion - all the emotions of life that we feel at home. A wonderful blend of growth and stability. Tour life is not perfect, but it is fulfilling, challenging, rewarding.

I'm so glad that I'm home.

Oh Canada!

Well, we have returned to the true north (strong and free) and I'm so glad to be back in Canada! Today, I used my debit card, had a lovely cup of Tim Horton's Chai tea and a honey crueller, and saw the beautiful expanse of the Southern Alberta prairies. Yes, this Canadian prairie girl is glad to be back on Canadian soil.

There are a few things I will miss about America, though. I will miss Pandora. Such a shame that I can't make my own radio station in Canada. I love Pandora. If I want to listen to Jazz, I choose my jazz station. If I want to listen to Classical, I choose my classical station. If I don't like the song, I give it a thumbs down and it never plays again. Oh, the joy.

I will also miss Target. There is something very relaxing about a casual stroll through Target that you don't really get from Wal-Mart. That, and the clothes are nicer. I have such wonderful memories of random strolls through Target with Amy. Those were good times.
I'm glad to be back in the land of Celsius, kilometres and people who don't think I pronounce "about" funny. Really people...you aren't original. I am looking forward to seeing people I love in Alberta and BC, driving through the Canadian Rockies (which, in my humble opinion are much more majestic than the US Rockies), using my Canadian cell phone, and having pretty money to spend :)

The border was so great today. We had a friendly border guard and immigration officer. We didn't have to unload every last piece of luggage and then have it scanned. The hardest part was filling out the declaration forms - and even that was a piece of cake. Oh Canada. You are good to me. I am glad to be home :)

Plans in their hearts

Every night, Harriet and I give a speech to the audience of people who come to see our choir's performance. At the end of the speech, Harriet tells the people that we would like them to meet our children by name and hear the plans that are inside their hearts and not only hear them, but believe with us that God has placed them there. The children join us on stage as she says those words and although I hear them every night, it wasn't until a few nights ago that they really hit my heart. As Faith and Brian led the choir up on stage, I looked at Faith and realized that in her heart, God has a plan. Right now, she wants to be a musician. Maybe that's what she'll be, maybe God will develop something else, something that is deeper in her heart than she realizes yet, but in her heart is a God-breathed plan, a dream. My call for this year is to help my children see that God has a plan for their lives and to give them some tools to help that dream become a reality. That realization gives me more that just a warm feeling - it gives me a purpose. God's plan for me right now is to love those children, help them to discover their potential, and give them some resources to draw from as they grow and learn. Such a remarkable challenge, but such a beautiful gift.

Tackles and Trucks

We had the best playtime today with the children. My host has a great big backyard and had all the host families over for a bbq. I played so hard, I got grass stains on my jeans and even on my elbows. It was the best kind of playtime. A lot of really soft grass, basketball nets, and a jungle gym - and nowhere for the children to go. Not once did I stop to count to see if they were all there. I just played. We wrestled, tackled and did cart wheels, played chase and trucks. I asked Reagan if he had a good time and he looked up at me with his chubby cheeks and big smile and said, "yes, Auntie. I played trucks from the start to the finish." That was almost 90 minutes of dump truck time. We don't get that very often. I think that was just what we needed. I'm even just a little bit sore from all the wrestling, but that's alright. It's a good reminder of a good day and why I need to do it more often.