This is my beautiful niece Julia. My BIL captioned this picture, “Back at home, we are often entertained by our little Olivia Newton John look-a-like! Nice headband Jewel!” and it cracks me up every time I see it: I just wanted to share it with you all. I can’t wait to meet you in December Jewel!
Archive for June, 2007
We’ve all heard the urban legend of pregnant women craving pickles and ice cream. Let me assure you, people ask you, “So have you had any weird cravings?” a lot when you’re pregnant. I think the whole craving thing gets a lot more hype than it deserves. I wonder if the women who do crave weird things do so because they are expected to crave bizarre foods. I like food, but I always like food. I just eat more junk when I’m pregnant than when I’m not because I’m allowed, nay, supposed to gain weight. I will use that as license to eat more chocolate and ice cream any day! I know, I know, I’m supposed to gain weight eating healthy stuff, and I do eat healthy stuff…..but I also eat junk. (And on the question of pickles and ice cream, no, I’ve never craved it. I tried it once to get Clay to leave me alone, and let me tell you there was nothing special about it!)
So, as per the title of this post, I had a real craving on Saturday night. There was nothing bizarre about what I wanted, but it was almost midnight, and I should have been going to sleep. The lights were off and we were laying there trying to fall asleep when I was hit with the hunger truck. Hard. I needed a sandwich, badly. But not a sub. No sir, a sandwich from Subway would not have cut it. I needed something on bread, not a sub bun. I figured the only place I could get such a thing at such an hour would probably be 7-Eleven, but after further deliberation, realized a Ham and Swiss on a croissant, without the ranch sauce and with mayo added, from Tim Horton’s was exactly what I needed. Clay offered to go get it for me, but what kills me about all classic pregnancy craving stories is that the women almost always make their husband get out of bed in the middle of the night to run around trying to find the much needed snack. Contrary to popular belief, being pregnant does not make me incapable of everything, least of all driving 5 minutes to a donut shop. I insisted it was my craving, so I would go. So I threw a bunnyhug over my pj’s and drove over to the Timmy’s drive-thru, came home, and ate my precious sandwich. Let me tell you, it was divine.
Driving home from Dalmeny on Monday night, I was struck by the beauty of the sunset in my rear-view mirror. It wasn’t that this sunset was particularly stunning: it was pretty average as far as sunsets go. What struck me was that fact that it was a sunset and I could actually see it. It dawned on me that since I moved to Saskatoon nearly three years ago, I could probably count the number of sunsets I have seen on one hand. I live in an old neighborhood that is filled with trees that shade the streets. While this is beautiful, and trees are an incredible part of nature, they are not what fill me with awe. What fills me with awe is the sky. When I am out in the open I feel like I can breathe more fully, more deeply, more contentedly. I feel like myself when I am out on the prairie. As an insignificant spec on the glorious landscape of wide open space, I am comfortable with myself because I feel so close to the One who created it all. When I can see the sky, I see a love letter written to me from God. It is where I meet with Him most intimately and without my words to complicate matters, the silence calms my soul. It is where I find peace.
I have felt so unlike myself for the past few years, and I think it (part of it anyway) comes down to not having that time to just be in nature with God and feel His closeness to me in the air that I breathe. I can’t wait to get out of the city.
It also got me wondering what other things connect me with God on an intimate level and I realized I rarely do these things. Am I afraid of a close encounter? What are these things? Well prayer is an obvious one, which I have avoided a lot for a while now. I also feel so close to God when I am playing my djembe. When I listen to Coldplay. When I go for a drive at night. When I lie on the hood of my car across the railroad tracks of the road I used to live on and look at the stars. When I am talking with good friends. These are all things I don’t do very often. What would happen if I did them more? Would they become less sacred to me, or would I cherish them all the more?