Quarter Life Crisis

So I turned 25 yesterday. I have always really loved having birthdays; for someone who is usually quite content to stay out of the spotlight, I love being the special one for a day. I also love turning a year older. I have always had a habit of not really saying my true age. Like when I'm asked how old I am, I will usually say something like "turning 24 this year" or whatever age is appropriate. I don't know why. I think it's a combination of things. I'm the youngest child and have always wanted to be seen as equal to my older siblings instead of the little sister, so I always wanted to be older than I was. Also my birthday is late in the year so I am usually the youngest out of all my friends. Again, wanting to be equal to everyone else. Wow, does anyone else sense this underlying self-conciousness about being the youngest? Good goodness.

Anyways, all that to say, I've been eyeing my looming 25th birthday with some trepidation. I don't know what I expected life to look like at 25. I do remember saying that I wanted to be done having kids by 25 because I had heard somewhere that that lowers your chance of uterine cancer or something (seriously, what 10 year old thinks of these things?! Me, apparently.) And so here I am, 25 and not only have I not started having kids, they are nowhere on the horizon (which is actually really ok....so not ready for them at this point).

I dunno, there were definitely a few "Holy crap! I'm 25!" moments yesterday and it still feels a little odd, but it's not totally the crisis I anticipated. I thought that I would really have a hard time if there was no guy in my life, if marriage wasn't at least on the distant horizon, but I'm pretty content right now. I'm not convinced that I'm in the right place for a relationship right at this moment (I reserve the right to change my tune if someone comes along, fyi). So really, I'm just going to keep living my life, enjoying what God has provided me with and following where He leads me.

Oh and my other goal this year is to consistently answer "I'm 25" when people ask me my age. None of this "turning 26 this year" business. Because, let's face it, it's just a downhill slide to 30 from here and eeghads!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Church Joy

When I was a kid I kinda hated church. It was really boring, Sunday School sucked and I eventually reached an age where I wasn't allowed to bring books or fall asleep on my dad's arm anymore.

We went to church every single Sunday. Yeah, we were one of those families. My parents were always super involved, both in our particular church and in the larger conference our church belonged to. I remember my dad going to many, many evening meetings.

Then my dad became a pastor when I was 15. So then we actually had to relocate because of church. Man, I hated it. The church we moved to was nothing like the one I had grown up in and I did nothing but resent it for three solid years, until I could hightail it outta there to Bible School. And even in college I really only went to church because everyone else was. But I sure spent my fair share of Sunday mornings with Pastor Pillow, if you know what I'm saying.

When I returned to Manitoba after Bible School I went church hunting. For a year I attended one with a Bible School friend and even though I got a little bit involved, never really settled into it. Once I moved out with friends I started going to their church. And still, while I found a large group of friends and even a boyfriend, I had a hard time settling. I was unhappy with the pastor's preaching style, judged the worship teams. What a brat. Seriously.

Finally I started getting involved. I joined a worship team. I became a youth sponsor. I started worship leading. I did a pastoral internship. And then I realized "I'm settled."

I have grown to deeply love my church and my church family. Through my internship I got to know so many people, all different age groups. I particularly love our seniors. They're a riot. I began to appreciate our pastor and his wealth of wisdom. I love getting up on Sunday mornings to go to church because I love worshipping there and I love the people I worship with. What a gift.

This is the first church that I have ever called my own. Growing up I just went to the church my family went to and then the one my dad pastored. In college I just went to the one that sent a bus to pick us up. Now, I have chosen a church, I have chosen to get involved and I've chosen to make it home. I would be devastated if our pastor were to leave. I can now understand why that hurts people so badly. I want to be involved there for as long as I'm living here. I want to walk down their beautiful centre aisle on my wedding day. I'd like to someday be able to serve there with my husband.

"Church" is touchy for a lot of people. Many have been hurt by the church and it holds a lot of painful memories for them. But for me, it is just such a gift.

Trust

"Trust" is not knowing the outcome but believing that because God is sovereign, the outcome will be inherently good.

Heavy Hearts

It's been a rough week for my church community. The Loewen's lost their little boy, Noah. No parent should ever have to watch their child die and they have watched him fight for his life for nearly four years now. The pain and suffering is over for him and he is with Jesus. However the pain and sadness is far from over for his family.

Also, about two weeks ago one of my youth girls was in a very serious accident at camp.She fell from the top of a 25 foot climbing wall, breaking both of her legs and an arm. Yesterday they amputated her right foot because the ankle was shattered so badly that blood could not flow properly through to her foot. She is such a wonderful young woman and her life is now altered forever. She's tall, blonde, a basketball and a lover of music. She is me, 9 years ago. I know what it's like to have to have to let of your identity as an athlete. It defined who I was for a long time. She's losing that identity in a far more traumatic way than I did. My heart hurts for her. She is strong and is handling this with maturity far beyond her 16 years. But it still just doesn't seem real. I keep expecting someone to tell me that they didn't have to take her leg. But the call just doesn't come.

Prayers for these people would be appreciated.

Guys and Dolls

So here's a question: can a guy and a girl ever become friends, like really good friends, without one party (or both) developing a romantic interest in the other?

I've always really liked being friends with guys. I think it's really important for girls to have male friends whom they can trust, whom they can ask questions of ("Do guys really think like this??" "What does it mean when a guy says this???" etc) and who are safe. But I think "safe" is tricky in these types of relationships. "Safe" to me means I don't have to worry about him falling for me or me falling for him. But is that ever really a guarantee? I've definitely had friendships where they were safe at one point and then became not safe. I think maybe it's possible but requires a lot of communication.

Perhaps these aren't healthy relationships. Is it possible that the other party becomes a pseudo boyfriend or girlfriend? Someone who becomes that person you turn to when you need to talk, someone to lean on, etc, without the physical part of a dating relationship (also not to be confused with the very dangerous Friends With Benefits phenomenon). It's probably not healthy to have a substitute boyfriend or girlfriend this way, is it?

I greatly value the guys God has placed in my life. I know strong, responsible, God-fearing men and they are a great part of my life. Figuring out appropriate boundaries with them is a different challenge. They are friendships I would never want to risk damaging, dear friends I would never dream of intentionally hurting. Neither do I want to hurt myself or develop unhealthy dependencies.

I am learning that God needs to be the one, the only One, I turn to in order to find self-worth, to find deeply fulfilling love. He continues to teach me lessons as I journey through life. I'm grateful for them, even the ones that hurt a little.

Grow up, Dana

Ok, my temper tantrum from the other day is over. I am back to acting like a mid-20s adult. Me and God just had some working out of things to do. I've been reminded that He knows what He's doing and I can let Him resume control.

I have this mantra that I am repeating these days. It calms me down when the 3 year old in me wants to stamp my feet and dissolve into a fit of angry, irrational tears. It goes:

God is sovereign
His timing is perfect
I am exactly where I am supposed to be
Because I am exactly where He is

I was questioning God's goodness for a couple days there. How I can question that in light of all He has brought me through in the past two-ish years is beyond me, but sometimes I lose sight of the big picture and all that He has done and is doing and just focus on what it appears He isn't doing. The bigger picture is in a little clearer focus now and I can remember that God is good and has good things for me. Where I am right now in my life is exactly where I should be because God is here with me. That's important for me to remember.

Another of His favourite reminders for me is:

"Be still and know that I am God"

Oh yeah.

Weary

Have you ever felt like you just don't want to continue fighting? Like the journey is just too much at this moment? Like you just want to sit down where you are and hang your head in defeat?

That's where I am today.

The Golden Years

I was thinking this morning that I am really going to miss these years when they're over. Now, hear me out before you get all up in my business about being pessimistic.

I am the first to admit that these days I'm a little impatient to be dating someone. Now that everything is over with Justin, I can FINALLY say that I am ready. But that's not something I can force to have happen, so I will continue to learn my lesson in patience. But when you start dating someone, it changes the rest of your friendships. And I absolutely adore my girls these days.

Once we're all married and all that jazz we don't get to live together anymore, unless our husbands are really cool about a lot of things. Me thinks that's highly unlikely.

But I'm really gonna miss living with some of my best friends and I'm determined to enjoy this for however much longer it lasts. Cuz I'm never gonna get it back.

In other news, I just looked and my blog profile has been viewed 680 times. Last time I looked it was around 250ish I think. Who's stalking me?!

Come ON already

Excuse me, is this thing on??

ATTENTION, SUMMER. YOU HAVE MISSED YOUR CUE. GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE AND START DOING YOUR JOB.

Thank you.

I'm Lovin' It

Isn't life awesome? I love being able to say that as someone who has experienced depression and discontentment with my life. I love being able to have peace about the future, knowing Who is in control. I love looking ahead to what's coming with anticipation. I love looking at what's happening right now and bask in its awesomeness. I love looking back at where I've been, seeing how far I've come and praising Jesus that I made it out in one piece.

A year ago my heart hurt so badly and the night was still dark. Today my heart is healed, as is my relationship (now a friendship) with J. It is lovely to know that I survived that and became a better person for it.

I have friends who mean the world to me, who make life brighter and who are proof of God's love for me. I thank Him every day for them.

I have a family who, while being far away, support me and encourage me in everything I do. After struggling to find my place in this family, I love the security I now find there. I love that my sister and I have formed a special kind of friendship in our adulthood; our conversations are now borne out of shared experiences and life lessons and this is a blessing.

I have a job that I love most of the time (I say "most of the time" for a reason. Don't get me wrong, I have an awesome job and I can't believe I get paid to do some of the things I do. I work with a fabulously supportive team and my boss is one of the best I've ever had. It's just there are some areas of my job that require skills that are not my strengths and this is frustrating sometimes). I am in the profession of helping people which is exactly where I want to be.

Life is so good today. Summer is on it's way, holidays are coming and I'm happy, baby!

This Moment Brought to You by Humiliation Central

As I was leaving my hairdresser's today she said "You've got something stuck to your bum!". With that embarassed feeling making my stomach feel all yucky, I felt around and pulled off a sticker. Turns out the sizing sticker from the new t-shirt I decided to wear today managed to adhere itself to my behind.

That's just what I need - to go around advertising my ass as XL.

Hold the Phone

So, as it turns out, I'm a grown-up. That happened sometime in the past 10 years without me realizing it.

25 is looming. Looming. I mean it's 6 months away, but to me, that's still looming. 25 means 5 years till I'm 30. I want to marry someone older than me prefferably, which means he'll be even closer to 30 than me. Eeegads.

I've realized recently that now that I'm done my BA (and have been done for a year, I might add), I should probably think about the next step. Logically that seems to be grad school, but I don't feel old enough to be thinking about grad school. Then I realize that if I had done my BA in 4 years like you're supposed to instead of 6, I could conceivably be finished my masters by now and that really makes me shit the proverbial brick.

Let's just back this bus up a bit here and figure out where the hank time went.

My Peace I Give You

I know, I know, I have been a horrible blogger so far this year. I've got nothing in the way of explanation, other than...I just don't wanna. So there. But today I feel like writing a bit and so I will. And then this blog will probably again sit silent until the urge strikes again. So just keep being patient, intra-readers. Keep being patient and keep checking because you never know what might change.

It's been an interesting few months. They've flown by. Like, really. Seeing as I work in a university I still measure time like students do - in terms of semesters. And this semester is done this week. Like, that's just nuts.

Since January I've been on a, how shall we call it, roller coaster journey. It's a whole long story but in January Justin and I began talking about getting back together. It blindsided us both - but it seemed that God had opened doors to at least allow that conversation to take place. Justin was in Regina finishing his RCMP training and so we started by just sending emails. He graduated in February and came home for a week before moving up north to his first posting. We spent some time together that week - that was both good and really tough. We decided to keep moving in the direction of getting back together, but agreed to take it slowly.

We took it so slowly that it just never went anywhere. It was such a frustrating time for me. He had enough distractions with his new life that it was easier on him. For me, that's all I had to think about. And then I'd start to worry and panic - but over and over God just gave me peace. And wisdom. Finally I sensed that it just wasn't happening on his end. Even though I had chosen to open myself to everything that being with him would mean, Justin could never quite get his head there and so last week we decided that our futures are still without one another.

Now we all remember how horrific it was for me the first time I had to break up with him. I never wanted to do it a second time. I never thought I could survive a second one. But you know what? I'm fine. I won't say there haven't been a moment or two of sadness or a bit of anger, but they have been very brief moments.

The best way I can describe it is that I am free. I don't have to wonder "what if?" anymore. I would have wondered forever, I think, if we'd made the right decision the first time around, if we could have made it work after all. Now I know. And it's fine. This peace is so unlike me. I'm a worrier - I feel everything really strongly with my heart and my heart and my head are rarely on the same page. It's a gift that they are now, in this. I can let him go, like really let him go this time, for good. I am free of what has held me captive for the past two and a half years and I can look to the future. I've believed that I could never love anyone again the same way I loved him - and in a way that may be true. They say that you never forget your first love and maybe I'll never totally forget what it was like to love him and what we learned together - because I believe we learned a lot. But I hope that next time, with the right guy, I love differently. I hope that I love with more respect. I hope I love with more patience. I love being in love - there is no feeling like it - and I hope I get to do it again (maybe soon? So much for patience...). But now I have hope that someone else out there is better for me. No more "what ifs?"

I've kept a journal ever since breaking up with Justin the first time. There is an unbelievable amount of pain in there. I've read over it a few times and the weight of that grief is crushing. I threw it out yesterday. No big ceremony, no burning it in a fire in any type of feminist symbolic action. I just looked at it and knew I didn't need it anymore. I didn't want it anymore either - there's enough hurt in there to drown a horse. So I just put it in the trash bag and didn't give it any more thought than it needed. It's over. Finally.

God's peace is pretty good.

Darkness and Light

I really hate the dark. Since I was young I’ve had a rather irrational fear of the dark. Our dark basement terrified me. If I was ever left home alone, my parents would come home to find every single light in the house on. Now that I pay electrical bills, I understand their frustration with me. The worst possible thing you could do is make me play a game outside in the dark, especially the dark forest. My friends tried this in Bible School. I stood on the path swinging a very large branch around.

When I drive in the dark, my eyes don’t seem to work as well and I get frustrated. My house has very stupid lighting. There are not light fixtures in any of the bedrooms, so I have a floor lamp and a string of mini lights – only half of which work. I get frustrated.

I think both my fear and my frustration with darkness stem from my need to be in control. I feel very out of control in the dark, I can’t see very well, I never know what’s lurking just beyond the edges of what I can see. Suffice it to say I would be a very awful blind person.

Have you ever felt as though you are standing in a pitch black room and there is only one small circle of light and you are standing in the middle of it? You can’t see anything past the edge of the circle. This is often how I feel in life.

I’ve come to realize that God is in that pitch black room and that circle of light is His gift of grace to me. I can’t see beyond it’s edges but it lights enough to keep me safe. Even if I move, that circle of light stays with me. When God calls me forward, the light moves with me, illuminating enough of the path that I am safe. I often have fear over not knowing what is in front of me, not knowing what is surrounding me out there in the darkness, but in His light, I can see. And that’s enough for me.

Psalm 143:8 – “Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul.”

True Story

Last night a group from church got together. This is the "post-C&C" group, who are too old to go to C&C but don't fit in the "young marrieds" group either. We're figuring out a way to just be our own demographic as part of the church. Anyways, we don't want to be called the "20s & 30s group" so we were trying to come up with an appropriate name. This is part of the conversation that followed:

Errin: "The seniors at my church are called "Free & Easy."

Me: "Is that the widows group?"

A direct line to heaven

It's hard to pray and not tell God what to do. I try to pray for God's will, but I know what I really don't want to have happen and how do I be ok if that ends up being what He has in mind? Last time I prayed about something like this, I was a 14 year old child and things didn't work out the way I wanted. But I have a theology degree now...maybe God will be more inclined to hear me out.

The tears come pretty quick and my heart feels a little like breaking.

My life is a novel?

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if my life were a novel. Sometimes I think it is.

I've been reading a ton this summer. I devour books. As I was reading a book from the church library it suddenly struck me how alike my life is to a novel yet how different it is at the same time. One character said to another in one book, "I'm going to marry you, you know." And I thought, "no, sir, you do not know that. the only reason you say that is because the author made you say that. you can be so certain of that only because you are a character in a novel, someone else is in control of what happens to you."

Someone once told me that he was going to marry me. Turns out he was wrong. Did the Author make him say it? I doubt it. The thing is, stuff doesn't end up quite as neat and tidy as it does in books. None of us knows anything for sure. The only one who does is the Author and He ain't tellin'.

I wish I could read ahead in the novel of my life. It's hard sometimes to trust the Author that He's really got it all under control.

Where you shower twice a day - Tales of Montreal Pt. 3 (the conclusion)

It's been hot here in Winnipeg the last couple of days. Yesterday it was rather muggy as well. Nothing a Winnipeg summer has thrown at me has compared to the climate of Montreal. I'm talking humidity to the degree that the moment you stepped outside you felt sticky. Mmmm. Pleasant.

So naturally, let's go walk around Montreal. In the humidity. Don't get me wrong, it was cool to see the city, but did it have to be so gosh darn heavy out there?

We did a lot of sightseeing. Our conference was over on Saturday at noon and we didn't leave for home until Monday afternoon and seeing as our hotel was out in the boonies, we had to find some way to fill our time. So we took a bus and two metro trains down to Old Montreal and walked. And walked and walked and walked.

I've never enjoyed walking much. Usually I would rather just run somewhere. You see, walking for long periods of time makes me sweaty. I don't like to be all sweaty unless I have purposed to get sweaty, ie. while working out. So walking has never been my favorite thing to do, especially in the mugginess. But dang were there some cool sights to see.

I saw the church where Celine Dion got married. Ornate is the word that comes to mind. (this picture was taken by Val Penner)

I saw St. Jospeh's Oratory. Cool building. Lots of stairs. And a heart ensconsed in fermaldehyde. (this picture was taken by Val Penner)

I saw the Olympic Stadium. Looking kind of run down but cool architecture.

I saw the harbor. Lots of boats. Really really nice boats. Like the ones at the yacht club. So pretty.

I saw the cobblestone streets that reminded me of Europe. Oh Europe.

I saw the fireworks. There was an international fireworks competition happening while we were there and we caught the 1/2 hour show by Portugal. Pretty cool but I couldn't help think to myself, There are people dying of hunger in this world and we spend half a million dollars just to blow things up the sky? (this picture was taken by Val Penner)

All in all, a cool place. But did I mention I almost melted???

Where "Jesus" is a swear word - Tales of Montreal Pt. 2

Now, don't get your panties in a knot over that title and just listen.

I learned a lot about the spiritual culture in Quebec while I was there. It's a sad state of affairs. There was a whole lot of church growth in the 60s and 70s there and now it has died off in the worst was. The Catholic church bears much of the blame for this. Did you know that they required women to bear a child every year or risk being cut from the church? Me thinks they took the verse, "women will be saved through childbirth" a little seriously.

In light of the harshness of the church, many people want nothing to do with religion of any kind. If you mention Jesus to them, they run, literally run, the other direction. Evangelism is challenging in a place like this. We met a couple who have started a "church" in their back alley. They do church without mentioning Jesus. Basically they're a presence in the poorest French community in Montreal.

On the second night of the convention we convened on the top of Mount Royal, which overlooks Montrel, for a worship time. This is not a private place; we were not the only ones there. I didn't participate in the small group prayer time so I was able to observe some of the locals. There was a group of three girls, drinkning wine from bottles, who were watching all that was taking place. No, not just watching, they were mocking. The stood beside a group of people praying, wrapped their arms around each other and pretended to pray as well, while their friend snapped a picture. Many more imitations and pictures later, they broke out into the Hallelujah chorus.

They really were being quite ignorant, yet I felt absolutely no anger. Just compassion and profound profound sadness. They just don't have any idea. Oh, my heart just broke for them.

The whole experience atop Mount Royal was...surreal. Now, we all know that I am no evangelist. Not in the slightest. I prefer to live my faith and I am the last person you will find preaching from a street corner. I also try to be sensitive to the needs and opinions of others. So a public worship service atop a mountain in a very anti-Christian community is not going to be my cup of tea. And then to ask me to "yell for Jesus." Now you're just begging me to roll my eyes at you.

How do you think those people felt as we yelled about "the harvest being ripe" (no, I'm not joking, they did) and other Christian slogans. We might as well have been screaming obsenities at them. In their culture, we basically were.

Quebec needs Jesus. I am convinced of that, don't get me wrong. The MB Conference needs people to go and do that work. The way we did it last weekend was not the right way.

Bonjour, Hello - Tales of Montreal Pt. 1

Well, internet friends, it's been awhile. First there was nothing really exciting to write about and then life got busy and I had no time to fill you in. But have no fear, I have not forgotten you.

Today I got home from a trip to Montreal. The Canadian Mennonite Bretheren Conference met there this year for Gathering 2008. I went as a delegate from Fort Garry and also as part of my internship. This was a pretty cool opportunity and I really appreciated it. It was a great chance to network and get to know a lot of people whose names I know but have never met. It was also less intimidating because my parents were also there and my dad was great at introducing me to people. I am well-known through my father who is "famous" in the MB conference. I swear everyone knows him. My sister-in-law jokes that she married into MB royalty. It's really not that bad...

As we touched down in Montreal I felt a sense of awe that there is a whole half of Canada that I've never seen. I also somewhat expected to feel as though Montreal was almost a different country, with it's different culture and language. As the shuttle took us to the hotel we passed a Dollarama and I was excited. Not because I needed or wanted to go to Dollarama but because I was relieved to see a word that I could actually read...

In a way, Quebec is a little like being in another country. First, there is the aforementioned language difference. I was told that pretty much everyone spoke English as well as French. This was not the case at the restaurant where I tried to order my first Quebecois meal. I don't know that I actually got what I thought I ordered.

Also, they drive like Europeans. Lane markings are mere suggestions and we seemed to be quite comfortable taking up two lanes most of the time. The streets too, especially in Old Montreal, look very much like the cobblestone streets I saw in Europe. It was very interesting.

The opening worship service for Gathering was amazing. It was a bilingual service with everything being translated into French which was frustrating in a lot of ways. Two women shared their testimonies. The first was in french and the second was in english. Neither were translated into the other language. So I have no idea what the first woman said. It was so humbling to realize that this is what it is like for many many people. I am used to hearing the dominant language almost constantly. I really don't know what it's like to not understand and it was interesting to put myself in someone else's shoes.

The worship was really really good. We all know I've been pretty spiritually apathetic lately and God broke down some walls during that service. I don't know if I've ever been moved to tears by worship - which is so tragic- but there I was, tears streaming down my face, my hand in the air like a pentacostal poster child, worshipping my Jesus. It was powerful and not something I am likely to forget any time soon.

Stay tuned for more Tales from Montreal...