Power

To me, power is often a misrepresented word. It's often used in reference social status and high-ranking positions and political leaders and fast vehicles. Indeed there is a bit of truth to that -each of these things does hold its own kind of power. But that power doesn't begin to compare to the Power I witnessed Christmas morning. Would you like to hear about it?

It's Christmas morning and I'm sitting on a hard bench in HomeChurch waiting for the service to begin, completely content to bask in this place's comfortable familiarity.

Then the music begins, a strong, moving hymn sung by the whole group of 200 or more worshippers. Oh Beautiful Star of Bethlehem, shine on. If you've ever heard a Christmas hymn sung from the hearts of 200 people, you've witnessed Power. It's more than the beautiful  Harmonies, although that's powerful enough. It's more than the complete synchronization of 200 different voices, although that's powerful too. It's not even the Christmas words, although Christmas words are also extremely powerful.

The power doesn't come from 200 people's voices, but from their hearts. The music isn't just well sung; it's a beautiful tune made more beautiful by God's presence, until it's almost reminiscent of the angels' song on The First Christmas. 200 people singing together is impressive but this morning it's more than impressive because each of these 200 people is feeling the same joy, celebrating the birth of their Saviour. The words of the song were well written, by someone who must have felt a personal connection to Jesus's birth. Now imagine 200 people who feel a personal connection to Jesus's birth all singing those lyrics in unison.

This is Power. The intense inhuman feeling of peace and extreme joy and calm contentment and strong resolve -the combination of feelings so real and strong that they can only come from the Reason for Christmas, Jesus.

((What is your definition of power?))

Stopping My Ears

‭‭
“Whoso stoppeth his ears at the cry of the poor, he also shall cry himself, but shall not be heard.”
‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭21:13‬ ‭

After I highlighted this verse in my Bible (app) the other day, a friend commented, "Ouch. That says it pretty plain." It certainly does. In fact, it made me wonder how many cries I'm ignoring this Christmas. How many people around me are silently begging for help and I'm not paying attention? There probably will not be any beggars to ignore on my elitist doorstep or in the expensive coffee shops and restaurants my Christmas parties revolve around. I probably have already religiously dropped my change into the Salvation Army's purses and stuffed a generous Christmas offering into the collection plate at my church last Sunday. I may have even set one evening aside to do a good deed -sing Christmas carols to neighbors or spend the supper hour at a soup kitchen. I have done well, I'm sure. But what have I missed?
Which of my acquaintances will spend a solitary Christmas Day? Maybe I ignored the loneliness in her eyes as she told me of her plans for Christmas.
Is one of my friends  living a sad holiday because it's her first Christmas since her dad died? Did I brush off her comment about "missing dad this Christmas" because I couldn't think of a sympathetic unawkward reply?
Do do i know someone who is living far away from his family and can't come home for Christmas? Remember that unanswered message he sent me wondering how I was spending Christmas?

Am  I stopping my ears to the cries of the poor?

My Name is Peter

I am cowering tonight, feeling guilty. I've just learned how vulnerable I am.
I purposed that No, of course I wouldn't deny my Jesus. Of course I'll always stand up for Him and for my Faith. But If i would've paid attention, Jesus was probably quietly saying that "before the night is over, you will deny me."  Luke 22.34
I was having a fun evening. And that's good.  Most of the people I was with are people who follow my Jesus too. But even with those people, it's sometimes not cool to admit it. And when someone told me, "you are one of Jesus's disciples," Luke 22.56 though in modern speech it sounded more like "you're so pious," l instantly retaliated with a suspiciously vehement "of course I'm not! I do a lot worse things than you do!"  sort of answer Luke 22.57. And minutes later as the clock on my phone silently struck 1am Luke 22.60, I felt Jesus's eyes on me and wondered why I had denied Him. Luke 22.61
I disappointed my strong personal convictions.  I went against the things I believe and stand for. I adopted the prevalent attitude of indifference. I allowed other people's opinions of me to define me and tailored my words and actions to fit what I knew my companions would approve of.
But exactly what i did doesn't  matter much to me. It's the fact that what I did was denying my Jesus.
And like Peter, my heart is crying bitterly. Luke 22.62

*in case you are unfamiliar with the
story of a man named Peter denying
his God 3 times in the space of one
night, refer to Luke 22 in the Bible

More Learned

This time, it's been 6 weeks since I've been home.  It isn't long compared to some times I have been gone. But for some reason, as I was driving home,  I suddenly realized that I have learned a lot in those 6 weeks.

I've found wishing I was somewhere else is really quite useless because wishing won't transport me to the place I want to be right now. Through that, I've learned that where I am is the best place for me. It must be, otherwise God wouldn't have put me there.

I've learned to avoid boredom.  I stay busy. I do things for others. I work at school late at night (a rather addictive habit.) I socialize every chance I get, not because the parties are amazing but because I hate to be alone.
I walk miles every day because I cannot sit silent and alone for hours without insanity intruding. I don't know why God is teaching me to embrace loneliness and change it into productivity but He is.
As much as possible for someone as dependant on human company as I am, I've gotten used to the loneliness. To doing things alone. Driving everywhere alone. Cooking alone. Eating alone (some nights). Hanging out alone (albeit I am not spectacular company for myself). I'm learning that God is my companion; I can say to Him what I would say if my sister was with me.

I've learned that I am so much stronger than I knew I could be but I've also realized the stark reality of my susceptibility and weakness. And, ironically, my strongest moments (or the moments when I feel strong) usually happen to be my weakest.

I've learned about contentment. You know the verse "godliness with contentment is great gain?"  From sources unknown to me and most definitely known to God, that verse goes through my mind in some of my most unhappy moments.

When I think about it, I've learned a lot. And because I'm going Home, today I feel victorious.

-The Sunset Watcher, a week later....

Raw Confusion

All the wrong places
And
All the wrong reasons
And
All the wrong expectations

I'm a little heartsick and confused at nothing and everything in my life.  I wish my life wasn't one long endless battle for grace, both God's and mine.
I don't have to fight God so He'll give me His Grace but I do have to fight me to make myself small enough to allow His Grace.
I also have to fight myself for the other grace, the virtue, polite and controlled and, always, kind.

I didn't think there was anything really wrong with me. I thought that this meh stage I'm in is just a phase, some passing aura that I'll be through soon, with not too much outside intervention or extra work on my part. And maybe it's true.
But there's something lost and confused and terrified in me. The future terrifies me in some way it never has before. This place has a slimy gripping hold on me that makes me feel trapped in this barren wilderness, when really I'm not. I feel like I'm stuck here; there's no escaping; in the back of my mind is an unreasonable fear that I might suddenly find myself unable to get away from this horrible place. When people ask me how I like it here, I have to be honest. "It's different from Home," I say, trying to avoid an answer by slightly redirecting the topic to comparing Wilderness to Civilization. (It works every time. #conversationmanipulationh )

I came from a wild wicked city, home of LGBT parades, the raucous Summer in the City every summer, town of lux: high-end vehicles, beautiful houses and money, where rights are fought for in local high schools and drug busts and the occasional holdup are run-of-the-mill. I come from a place that is basically the heart of the devil but I never felt his power so strongly until i came here.
This deadbeat town, with half its buildings empty and the other half full of retirees, full of the devil? It's unlikely. Then it must the countryside full of Holdeman farmers. That seems just as unlikely. But it's true. All of it. I know now that the devil likes the Farmer and the Retiree as much as the Royal or theand the Drug Addict. He likes me that well too.

This shows a little too much of my heart for my liking. I wrote it during one night of confusion last week I think and I felt like editing it til it was bare of emotion but something made me change my mind and decide to post it exactly as it was written. Raw Confusion.
(The Sunset Watcher)

Good Day, Bad Day

Yesterday was a good day. Yesterday the weather was sunshiney and perfect and the day went well and passed swiftly. The children were sweet and kind to one another, remembered the things they were supposed to remember, didn't argue or fight on the playground, were well behaved all day long and performed so beautifully during their Christmas program practice that I rewarded their good behaviour with some free time to work on fun projects. They were happy scholars and I was a happy teacher and sent them all home with a benevolent heart, a little sad that the day was gone so quickly.

Today was not  a good day. The weather was cloudy and depressing and blowing snow into my face and, although the day didn't drag, I wIshed from the beginning of it that it was already over. The children all seemed a little sluggish and attitudish, and chaos kept interrupting them.  They made dreadful mistakes in their English lessons and forgot important math skills. On the playground, they argued and goofed off and all day they were constantly testing the boundaries of rules in subtle ways I wasn't prepared to deal with. They made fun and tattled instead of yesterday's kindness and, durning the afternoon practice session, they whispered and got distracted. The day ended abruptly but not badly; in fact from last recess on it climbed in niceNess and ended on a positive note. But I was only too happy to send the last child out the door and huddle on my teacher chair, my head on my desk and look out at the grey day that matched my mood.

By tonight I wonder if the contrast of the two days was a little of a lesson for the teacher.
I wonder if this is how God sees me -well behaved and nice one day and irresponsible and chaotic the next.

"That Jordanna," I can imagine Him saying to his Angel Friends. "I am happy to see what she's doing today.  She's been patient and happy all day long ! She hasn't said one nasty thing about anyone and when someone told her off she didn't even get defensive and angry. She's even making a special effort to do something kind for some downtrodden individual tonight.  I will give her a tiny blessing because she's done so well today."

Of course God knows everything so He wouldn't be surprised if His narration of my doings the following day quickly turned negative. "Jordanna didn't leave her house without praying this morning. It's a good  thing too, because that prayer is the only thing that's keeping her together today. To begin with, she wasn't extremely early for school so she didn't have enough minutes of silence alone with the books to get herself enthused about the day's English lessons. She lost track of time during singing so math class was 6 minutes too short and she got a little tense and her students felt pressured. She laughed at some unkindness (not among students) when she should have stuck up for the unfortunate individual being mocked. She didn't respond responsibly to a coteacher's disciplinary decisions and, to make matters worse, gossiped with other coteachers about. And all day she's been embracing self-pity with open arms, sighing about the very things that, as she will one day  realize, are an important part of making her into the person I envision her being."

My God has more patience for me on my bad days than I have my students on their bad days. I will learn from Him.

-the sunset watcher

Emptiness

I went to sleep empty, with prayers on my lips as my eyes closed.
I woke up mostly empty still, loathe to get up and face life. I did it though, because there was no other option.
At school, I sat listlessly and sorta stared off into space until the kathunk of the front door signalled the children had started arriving. And even as they walked in class, a distracted "good morning" was my only acknowledgment that my job for the day had begun.
Somewhere between writing Joshua 1.9 on smooth wood chips and singing a rejuvenating round of "so get along little pony and keep a watchful eye!" my heart filled up a little.
And hearing my kiddies yell their 5 times tables as they ran around the school and watching them come in breathless and excited made me a little excited about the day too.
Then, spending much of math class working with J on almost every one of his math problems and hearing Shaniah say about her math lesson that "this isn't hard!" inserted hope and determination into my spirit.
 A shouting, inspired noon soccer game followed by finishing our exhilarating true adventure book at story time reminded me about finding pleasure in minuscule day-to-day rhythms.
Unplanned, I spent extra time with the grade 4 reading class and then surprised them (and myself) by saying they should draw pictures instead of the usual answer-10-questions-about-the-story. Their sparkling eyed joy at that tiny break in monotony made my eyes sparkle a little too, in reflection of their happiness.
And during last period I made split second decision and gave everyone a break in science (only a 10 question quiz). I watched my girls enthusiastically work together to make star shapes by tying twigs together and rough and the beautiful results of their work made me joyful when the children had gone home and it was just me, standing and staring at stars made from branches.
And all day, whenever i was sitting at my desk I saw the morning's scrap of wood prominently propped against the candle on one corner of my desk with four words jumping out at me whenever I raised my head to answer a waving hand. BE OF GOOD COURAGE.
This emptiness isn't something I can change. But I can be of good courage and then, I think, God  changes that.

Make Me into Mwezi

There is nothing so comforting
                   And companionable
             As the accompaniment
Of Mwezi* on a night drive,
Its light a cozy white glow
Through the glass.
And nothing as secure
                    And silent
 As the blanket of light
From Mwezi
On a midnight walk,
Shining a silver path
Before me.

But the best Part of Mwezi is
the Source of her light.
Mwezi doesn't light herself.
Sh reflects light from
something
so much bigger and powerful
Than her Mwezi-self:
Dzuwa.**
Dzuwa is
Giant
Brilliant
Warm
Dazzling
Blindingly Bright
The Giver of Life.
Mwezi is
Little
Dark
Empty
Useless
Without Dzuwa.
But Dzuwa is very happy to
Share His light.
He shines it onto Mwezi
And Mwezi quietly passes the
Shine on to
The Dark Places on Earth at Night,
Dropping silvery slivers of Hope
Onto people's paths.
And wrapping them in a blanket
Of security.
It's not Mwezi's light doing this.
It's Dzuwa's light inside Mwezi.


Dzuwa, make me into Your Mwezi.


-The Sunset Watcher, aspiring to join the Sunset in the sky

*moon, in the Chichewa language
**sun in the Chichewa language

Remember a Command

I do like reading orders.

“Do all things without murmurings and disputings:”
‭
“Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others.”

“Rejoicing in hope; patient in tribulation; continuing instant in prayer;”
‭‭
“Cast not away therefore your confidence, which hath great recompence of reward.”
‭‭
“For ye have need of patience,"

They don't leave me guessing. They're clear, concise, practical orders. I understand them, I understand how they relate to my life. And it's no problem to apply them.
Except for days when something distracts me.
And days when faith is tenuous.
And days when I feel like staying in bed and spoiling myself instead of getting up and giving myself away.
And days when my heart wants what it wants and not what it should.
And days when I second guess my life.
And days when I feel a little empty at the beginning of the day and even emptier at the end.

That's basically every day. I wish I remembered these orders and suggestions and commands the minute something Went wrong, or even right. I have a terrible memory; it's difficult for me to remember these things but not impossible. I'm challenging myself to remember this week. Just one command.

‭‭

Is It Enough?

I throw my energies into my work.
But is it enough?
I spend hours making lesson plans and correcting work.
But is it enough?
I read books on dyslexia and love languages and google learning disorders and ask countless questions of experienced teacher so I can teach and reach my students better.
But is it enough?
I've made an entire lifestyle change for these children.
But is it enough?
I've left every single friend and family member for these children .
But is it enough?
I've completelychanged my routines -I go to bed earlier and get up earlier and get enough sleep -for these children.
But is it enough?
I truly feel like I have left everything for these children I am here to teach.
But is it enough?

Koma popanda chikondi, Ndili chabe.
Ndilibe chikondi, Ine ndili change.

But without love, I am nothing
If I am without love, I am nothing.

SappyNess

What positive connections am I creating with the people around met?
That's what I said I'd write about next and so I will do that. I don't want to though because it makes me feel inadequate and selfish and it's infinitely harder to identify the ways I'm positively influencing people than the to identify the ways they're blessing me.
I have no doubt that God is using me to lift someone else. That said, I have very little idea what those ways are.
The words "give someone a hand and you both climb higher" do rest on one hallway wall of my school, reminding us all to do the second mile, kindness thing. And although I fight sappy cliches, this one is true. When I keep my voice level and spend 5 minutes repeating what I've just said until S finally catches on, she's happy because,
#1. She didn't get yelled at so she feels confident, not stupid.  
#2. She finally understands how to multiply fractions.
I'm happy too because,
#1. I kept calm and patient so I feel confident and good about myself.
 #2. S finally understands how to multiply fractions.
I gave  her a hand and we both climbed higher up the ladder of knowledge, each in a different way.

Another blessing thing I did was to step out of my comfort zone and into the back bench at church yesterday and begin a conversation with a friendless young mother and her two gorgeous TinyGirls. Was she blessed? I don't know. I do know that I was blessed by the happy feeling that reaching out gives me and, really, I think she was blessed too.
Being a blessing involved washing the supper dishes for the Lady on the Mainfloor. It constituted taking C home after the party last night. Being a blessing was sending a random fun text to a friend and also buying 9 rolls of brown paper so T+T+B+B had one less thing on their lengthy grocery list. Being a blessing the rest of my the week will mean giving 2 of my after-schools and evenings  to cooking and serving at a fundraiser.

I feel like throwing this post into the  proverbia garbage can because I'm not good at writing on demand and so this sounds stilted and awkward and fake. I'm also not good at bragging sometimes. But which is more important -not posting something if it's abnormal for/unlike me or trying to grow my words and feelings by writing something Out of character once in a while?

A Reflexion of Thanksgiving

The sermon in my Home Church Sunday morning, referred to as a Reflection of Thanksgiving and focused on Being a Blessing made me analyze the positive connections with people around me.

•My dad, my precious unselfish Dad who got up early, got my car an oil change and winter tires AND a tank full of gas. I don't think there is anything I can ever do to pay my dad back for all the things he does for me. ❤️
•a wide awake new friend lets a few kids to crash his house at midnight for espressos and pizza and laughter and conversation
•The modern SteinbachBoy who went to sport check at the same time as me and kept doing blessing things like holding the door and letting me go ahead in checkout.
• people who don't don't even know me well show so much interest in my life just because they are kind and interested and looking out for me.
•That 2 coteachers didn't make a big deal of my groggy copier error this morning.
•Two kind people who both brought after-school-edibles this afternoon
•People who accept and work with the way I do things even if it's not the way they'd things.
•Margareta who blessed me with the gifts of companionship while driving and patience when I decided to stay in Steinbach until evening and entertaining me through the boring hours of dark highways.
•friendships and kindness from so many people in my S-Home and my new N-Home

Next up:  What positive connections am I creating with the people around me?

Blessed and Thankful -The Sunset Watcher 🌅


((I know. Lists are cheating as blog posts. They're boring; they're an easy way out. Maybe sometime I will be so unlazy and unbusy that I will stop writing lists. All I am now is sorry -sorry for lazyness and busyness and failure on my part. And just a bit of advice -Learn from my mistakes. -The Sunset Watcher 🌅))

Another postscript -I am posting belatedly because the network isn't so lovely here lately. -SW

A Reflexion of Thanksgiving

The sermon in my Home Church Sunday morning, referred to as a Reflection of Thanksgiving and focused on Being a Blessing made me analyze the positive connections with people around me.

•My dad, my precious unselfish Dad who got up early, got my car an oil change and winter tires AND a tank full of gas. I don't think there is anything I can ever do to pay my dad back for all the things he does for me. ❤️
•a wide awake new friend lets a few kids to crash his house at midnight for espressos and pizza and laughter and conversation
•The modern SteinbachBoy who went to sport check at the same time as me and kept doing blessing things like holding the door and letting me go ahead in checkout.
• people who don't don't even know me well show so much interest in my life just because they are kind and interested and looking out for me.
•That 2 coteachers didn't make a big deal of my groggy copier error this morning.
•Two kind people who both brought after-school-edibles this afternoon
•People who accept and work with the way I do things even if it's not the way they'd things.
•Margareta who blessed me with the gifts of companionship while driving and patience when I decided to stay in Steinbach until evening and entertaining me through the boring hours of dark highways.
•friendships and kindness from so many people in my S-Home and my new N-Home

Next up:  What positive connections am I creating with the people around me?

Blessed and Thankful -The Sunset Watcher 🌅


((I know. Lists are cheating as blog posts. They're boring; they're an easy way out. Maybe sometime I will be so unlazy and unbusy that I will stop writing lists. All I am now is sorry -sorry for lazyness and busyness and failure on my part. And just a bit of advice -Learn from my mistakes. -The Sunset Watcher 🌅))

Another postscript -I am posting belatedly because the network isn't so lovely here lately. -SW

Solutions and Resolutions. Adaptions and Adoptions. Change and exchange.

Solutions,
Resolutions.
Adaptions,
Adoptions.
Change,
exchange.

Insead of being overwhelmed
when there is a problem,
I can change something. 
I can adapt my methods,
Or
I can adopt a new tactic,
Or
I can change a little ritual,
Or
I can exchange one way of doing it for another,
until 
a change for the better is happening.
Yes, routine.
But sometimes I'm doing the wrong routine. 
Yes, consistency. 
But sometimes I'm focusing on the wrong things. 
Yes accountability.
But not to the point of unattainable. 
It's hard (for me) to admit defeat,
to accept failure, 
to try again a different way
(Because usually, The Way I Know,
that is The Best Way.)
But, again,
Why am I here?
                    •To do things my way?
                    •To benefit me?
No.
Because of children, now my students.
Because of the future of my world.
Because of the future of my faith.
Mostly, because of God.
So, tomorrow,
when I'm fighting the change I need to make,
Sighing, at the thought of all the work
I'll need to do to make this work,
Discouraged because there seems to be no solutions 
to a certain child's seemingly hopeless bad habits,
I need to ask myself the question,
Why am I here?
That will help me remember my students,
Inspire me to review and refocus
Push me to rearrange my priorities
from
Easy4me before IsThisHelpingMyStudents
To
IsThisHelpingMyStudents before Easy4me

Last Year's Teacher

A few of the things I hear from the middle schoolers:

•Our teacher last year let us use the calculator to do our math.

•Our teacher last year didn't want us to write in cursive because she couldn't read cursive.

•Our other teacher let us play on the train tracks for recess.

What will they tell next year's teacher about me?

survival

My life has done a drastic change.
Instead of being so focused on me and my people, I'm learning to know new people and lifestyles and ways of doing things.
I have my set emotions I usually feel -sad, unfulfilled and worried in my unhappier moments and, more often content in boringness, happy and confident. Now, though, I've j u m p e d > > > so so far
out of my comfort zone that I don't even have the same emotions. Instead of worrying of longterm life plans I'm wondering *how I'll make it to Friday.*  Instead of feeling like I'm not sharing God and myself with enough people, I feel like I can't give everyone in my life the time and attention they deserve. I'm lonely in my hectic busyness and fighting a little to find contentment in giving. The one emotion that I feel the same as always, is confident. Confident that with God I can and will do this; confident that I am in the right place, that I'm here for a reason, and that God set me here.


 *ask and it shall be given you*

My heart loves this verse. It begs God for lots of things, but always the same two things. In my journey to figure exactly what my role in this new community, in my new job, and in my new church is, I made several intense, pleading requests to God this week -the two things I always instinctively ask for, and two more.
1. Life
2. Love
3. A miracle for the saddest N boy who goes to my school
4. That when God needs my help I will cooperate

horror.

Horror.
A haunting shriek cuts through the gloomy moment of silence and echoes shrilly off a long cold corridor.  As the cry subsides into eerie stillness, the brown light from a single lightbulb suspended high above flickers and  my corner of the room-like hallway feels colder and darker than just a minute ago. I huddle, seeking the strength and comfort the chipped cement walls give me. These cold walls are my mama. I go to them for  hugs when I need refuge and comfort. They are where I pour out my anger; when I am alone for a moment I recklessly pound and kick on them, giving them my emotions for safekeeping. Because they sympathize. They see the things that happen in this place. The pain inflicted by the stick-wielding  People (although they don't deserve to be called that) who beat me when I can't follow their rapidly barked instructions. The shouted virulent insults they rain down on me in moments of my failure. The way my self worth, my culture, my personality, the people and things I love, and even my body are jerked from my tenuous grasp and buried deep deep under the way they make me be.

My imagination runs wild as I walk through the cold wide hallways of the school where I teach. Usually I see the ancient block walls as opportunities for posters and bright paint colors and things to make it a friendly fun place for children to enter and learn. But  when the Carefree Children go home and the night is approaching and I'm the only one left in the cold shadowy school I think about what other things these walls have seen; to me  the cold foreboding unfriendliness of the building and its bleak surroundings are the picture of Canada's shame, the residential school system. And although I have no proof that it actually was once a place of horror, my imagination, maybe my intuition tells me it was. And if something good can come from the horror of those, it has, making me a better teacher.
That haunting picture of a small one crouched by the icy walls crying for home and love and comfort inspires me to do anything to make this building a happy place, even a shelter from some child's unhappy home life.  That child's scream will echo often through my mind, reminding me to pull my children even closer, to keep them safe and make them feel secure. And When in my mind I'm the sobbing small one hugging the wall because she has no mama, I instinctively love my students a little more, not wanting to think that could happens to any of them. And when my heart is cowering under  imagined insults and cruelty of a piously clothed but wicked hearted human, my inside cries, giving me courage to push aside my impatience and say an extra word of praise instead of reproof.

I have no connection and no scars from the residential school era and am not First Nation myself, but because I know and love people whose lives have been rerouted through horror as an effect of these schools, I feel a tiny bit of their pain.  I wish I could be part them, of their mourning  and overcoming. As it is all I can do is give them support, share a tinybit of courage, and always prayers for them. I silently mourn their losses, love a few of their children, and do my best to make sure none of these horrific things happen to anyone I can protect.
I have a challenge to anyone who reads this. Can this be a Generation of Peace? A Generation of Kindness? A Generation of Acceptance? A Generation of Understanding? And most of all, a Generation of Love? One Generation with *so many names.*
I'm going to be one of that Generation.

says the Sunset Watcher

courage

Be strong and of a good courage. 

Be not a afraid neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest. 

It was no coincidence that the first Sunday in my new church in my new town my favourite verse was the sermon. God totally knew what He was doing. He knew that although at that moment I was  vibrantly full of courage, it wouldn't be many hours before fear would threaten and courage would be only the whisper of this verse in my heart. I didn't know that but i soon found that out.

Be strong were the words that prompted me to walk in front of the crowd of strangers, head held high, acting confidence I didn't have. 

Be of good courage were the words that inserted hope when I looked ahead to endlessness. 

Your God is with you wherever you go are the words that kept me brave enough to walk on, through fear. 

I have no doubts that This verse will be my stability throughout the next 9 months. I have no doubt that God wants me hear and no doubt that although this looks daunting and terrifying sometimes, God wouldn't have sent me here if He knew I couldn't do it. 

6 Hours and a LifeChange

1 giant decision made months ago resulted this week in:

2 sisters and 1 mum
All my transportable earthly belongings
6 hours in my Andromeda car
And arrival to the gently rolling prairie country.

A life change.


Sadness because goodbyes
Anticipation because Future
Fear because 200 new people
Excitement because changes
Courage and peace because
My God is with me wherever I go
Joshua 1vs9

Because I'm Old Now

I just became 21years old not 2 months ago. Which means I'm old enough to have learned some wisdom already. And since I am so old and wise I accidentally made a list of life lessons I wish I could insert into my little siblings' lives to make growing up easier for them. Since life doesn't work that way and humans really like to learn by trial and error not by being told, I just buried this list in my diary and forgot about it for weeks. Now, reading back through diary entries for inspiration, I came upon this again and decided I need to keep it near me cause guess what. I still have mastered all these perfections myself.

Advices to Littler Ones* **
*not a comprehensive list; sporadic accidental inspiration is all this is
**because this advise is directed at me I must be littler than myself??



➡Don't fight the truth.

➡Be absolutely certain the people you trust are the right people. To my sibs: your parents (/family) and your church will always be the right people. Not everyone else will have your total happiness in mind and not everyone else will tell the truth. But your mum and dad, they always will.

➡Something I wish to never forget is that everything I do will affect someone else in some way. Everything. Don't hurt the ones you love.

➡Being kind, being merciful, showing grace, forgiving. You can never do too much of these things. Always be kinder than necessary.

➡Fighting things by yourself or fighting yourself by yourself is lonely. Share your battles; usually that makes them easier.

➡There's always someone who has life harder than you. Truth.

➡Think more about others. Right now I can hear 4 year old sister asking "how's school [brother]?" And even after his grunted answer continuing with "how WAS school? Was [your friend] there? Did you play hockey? Huh [brother]?" How sweet of her.

➡Let the other person win. The argument, the discussion, the reprimand, any conflict, any time you are tempted to fight back. Winning will never make me happier especially if I made someone else sadder by doing so. Never.

➡Feel pain. But shut out useless angry feelings, injustice, unkindNess. Feeling pain and sadness for good reasons is a good thing just...

➡Don't let sadness be who you are. Rise above your past, your regret, other's cruelty. It just wastes time you could spend being happy and having a good life.

🌅from the Littler Sunset Watcher

of GIANT encounters

Last week in my thankful stories (which I wrote exactly a week ago even though I didn't publish them then...I'm not too good with timelines) I wondered why I was afraid when I met giant Goliaths in my life. Well that was a good thing to wonder but since I wondered that I have came upon several giants and shivered in fear in front of each one, needlessly. For some terrible reason I failed to immediately ask for power to fight goliath but instead cowered for long minutes in front of him, fearful, until he sensed my fear and began to chase me back to the safety of dismissal. He would go away for a while but then suddenly, through the valley, would ring his loud taunting cry "are you afraid to fight!?" And I would begin the scared cowering circle all over again. But God is endlessly merciful. And when I decided I needed help He helped me fight goliath. Kill him til he was so dead that all his friends ran in the opposite direction; this time it was them who were afraid.
I don't don't don't deserve the kind of mercy God showed me, the kind He was waiting all week to extend as soon as I asked him for it. Why do I let my fear for goliath control me instead of my love for God? God has so much more to offer than Goliath.
Off to another week of Goliath-encounters. And this time I'm going to let God do the fighting.

It's been a rather difficult week, mostly emotionally, for me. I've cried I've sighed I've ranted. And one night courage overcame and I learned from the difficult things I was facing.

The Things I Learned This Week:

•always be kinder
•just when I think I know a person they surprise me
•make the best thing of whatever happens to you. There's always something to be happy about.
•don't allow Satan to control me. He doesn't deserve the power I give him over myself
•the Bible is more alive than I am
•be a humble hero (derived from bs discussion)
•I might have been happy and content yesterday but that doesn't mean I am today. Every day I have to choose faith over fear.
•learn from the negative things people say about me (cause they might be true) but don't let them break me
•popular. Typical. Trendy. Normal. Labels don't matter. Be my strange self but always be kind. In the end it doesn't matter whether I'm like everyone else but whether I'm a kind person.

(And it's only Wednesday)

>>sunset watcher, watching the clouds set tonight; not the sun

Tiny Stories of my Life

First, a background. I often make lists of things that make me smile or that I'm thankful for and send them to my friends who do the same to me. This is my latest compilation;

Little stories that are my life or that I observe are the things I'm thankful for this time around.

I watched someone young helping someone old, listening to his garbled unintelligible words; understanding that person's needs when he couldn't even voice them. And I was in awe because that is a good picture. A picture of how life should be. The able helping the unable. The strong helping the weak. The young honoring the old and wise.

In contrast: I also watched someone older bending down to help someone smaller, listening to the child's little voice, understanding it's needs and focusing on the child more than on himself. I was in awe because that is a good picture of how life should be be. The able helping in the incapable. The learned helping the small innocents.

I walked the lengthy path through the cold air after hockey expecting to get into a chilly car but to my happy surprise I found that some kind anonymous had turned it on for me so I could happily climb into a cozy vehicle. I like being the recipient of anonymous kindness. Or any kindness really. Thankyou, Kind Anonymous. I hope I chance to do something kind for you one day.

The brave boy sat there and calmly admitted that he'd stopped doing that (something none of us had even thought of Not doing) because he'd heard questions about it at conference.

Another story I didn't want to forget to add to a thankful list and almost forgot now: The happy event of the biz Christmas party wherein my employers treated their employees (6 of us) to Brazilian deliciousness and gave them sumptuous gifts and let them fail miserably at archery to their ♡s content. Beautiful singing on the way back to town and then a cup of tea completed a perfect evening.

The story of this busy week of singings and meetings and hockeys and out-4-suppers and pancakes&swatgames every night and an after party at papa&grannys with AllTheCousins (⬅a very nice chapter, this one) is too long to narrate but let it be said, it is a good story.

A child sleeps in the bed across from mine, perfect and beautiful and in, her sleepingness, totally angelic. I love her and every night before I go to bed I look at her in awe that God lets us have her. Her story didnt begin very happily but I pray for the following chapters of her story to be better, so much better.

I read a good story today, about a boy fighting a giant very bravely with only his faith in God and some tiny stones to help him win. I was supposed to be teaching this story to young children, telling them about this superhuman feat and that God can help us overcome any giant, if we ask Him. Somewhere in the story, or maybe in the things the children said about the story, I learned new things about God and the courage and power He will give anyone who asks Him and I wondered why I am ever even afraid of Goliath.

I like stories. I like writing the (true) stories of my life but also I like hearing the stories of your life. I hope you are living a happy story today.

From the Sunset Watcher