broken earth

"And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit.

At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook and the rocks split. The tombs broke open and the bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs, and after Jesus' resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many people. When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, "Surely he was the Son of God!"

Matthew 27: 50 - 54 (The Bible)

I wrote about Easter a few years ago. Click here to link to it.

silent is the house when it is after midnight.

Well certainly I have not posted on here for a long time - since February. Summer has come and gone - I so enjoy walking and bussing around the City in the warm Summer air. Summer came late, and stayed late.

I began reading Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray within the past two weeks. This is the 3rd time of reading this work, but has been a years since the first and second reading.

... snow covered my car last weekend. i was caught by surprise at the amount of snow in the air and on the ground. winter will greet me soon - this was just a preview. i must check on my winter boots for the state they are in - and buy new shoelaces for them. hopefully i find good laces.

Leaving Church on a January Sunday morning

at the end of a Sunday Morning service at Eastview Community Church
song is : All My Days by Glenn Kaiser. 

on Sunday afternoon i went for a walk.

Sunday afternoon I walked to Misericordia Hospital, to take care of an ear infection. Some of the photos are my walk, some are of in the Waiting room. In the first photo, ... some people brought their dogs with them.

Sound Track by Smashing Pumpkins

On The Edge movie.

David Gilmour - Comfortably Numb

Reading horror while trying to maintain a normal composure on public transit.

Almost finished reading The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer. I'm taking my time - reading while riding City Transit - the bus. The Canterbury Tales tales are told as part of a story-telling contest by a group of pilgrims as they travel together on a journey from Southwark to the shrine of Saint Thomas Becket at Caterbury Catherdral. The particular translation that I am reading, is translated from Middle English; but offers the Middle English translation on all EVEN pages, and Modern English on all ODD pages.

Before Canterbury Tales, I read ... well a few books, but a few books ago, I read Dracula by Bram Stoker. What an amazing read that was! Reading horror while trying to maintain a normal composure on public transit.

I'm involved in a ministry called The Harbour. it's a 12 Step Support Group. I am Program Director/Secretary-Treasurer - working along-side 5 others on a Board. I've been doing the work for it at an office where it is affiliated with , but will begin using my home office as much as possible. I began going to a Support Group after my friend committed suicide about four years ago. After being there two weeks, I was running the PowerPoint slides/projector for the group. I was eventually hired by the Church that the program was in, to work with that specific program. I worked with it for just over a year. That specific group was dropped from the church that it was in; suddenly the Elders decided that the 67 - 90 people that came every single Tuesday night were no longer important - so the program was tossed. (along with my job). In March of 2008, a group of people began to meet and talk about beginning a new group. The new 12 step support group officially began in June, 2008, with the name The Harbour. I've built a website for it.

blah blah blah blah. write write write write. that last paragraph was far too long.

It's Christmas time - the second Christmas without my mom... I really miss her.

here's a video of myself and a friend driving down Pembina Hwy in Winnipeg last year.

Mother's Day

i went to Brookside Cemetery today.  to see my mom's grave.  i really do miss her very very much. she died on September 17th.  seven months ago.  in a week, it will be eight months.  such gut wrenching sorrow i feel; when i think about her.  she had ovarian cancer.  the image will never leave me - of her acute suffering.  

i remember when her mother died.  my grandmother.  i remember how she wept.  she would often say "I miss my mother so very much" .  

my mom had a deep faith.  i was struck by her constant prayers while she lay on her death bed. while no longer having the ability to speak aloud, she prayed while barely having strength to move her mouth.  tiny whispers.  her hand moved in a small circle as to cross herself.  

she said good-bye to me.  she had no voice.  i raced through traffic to make it to her bedside.  my sister phoned me at work and said - bethy you better come now.  

it was like she was waiting for me.   her youngest.   her baby.  she always called me her baby.  i rushed her her bedside.  she tried so hard to speak to me.   i held her hand -  a gentle squeeze back from her.  and then she left this world.  i watched her leave...  me, her last child, held her hand during her last breath.   

can it really be?   that she is gone?   

I love you mom.  happy mothers day. 

K.D. Lang sings Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah

My mom is in the audience in this specific Video. She died in September - September 17th, 2008. Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I will never forget you.

circumstance

...fingers too froze to message on my phone while waiting for bus #11

...songs escape-ing through earplugs two seats over - lyrics dancing in the air while tired passengers look out the dark windows

.......................... earlier in the late afternoon, k.d. lang's Hallelujah video on youtube ... while at my desk... before i shut my laptop;

uploading pages on a server........ adding fingerprints...
............... conflict. caught in the middle. friendship threat - ened ..... circumstances overwhelming ... sadness smothering me

...I didn't bring my sunglasses with me today, can't hide the tears that escape.. while on the back seat of bus #11

... wipe my tears with my 8 ft scarf... while gathering glimpses of Christmas lighting - swirls, snowflakes - on the boulevard of main street............. as the bus races by ............ tires grinding. ........oh i miss my mom so very very much

... stepping off the bus onto the curb of the sidewalk ... my sore eyes stinging from the sudden wall of cold winter air ...

wrapping my scarf around and around and around ...

Bus #51

"it was late on a bitterly cold New Year's Eve. the snow was falling. a poor little girl was wandering in the dark cold streets; she was bareheaded and barefoot. she had of course had slippers on when she left home, but they were not that good, for they were huge. they had last been worn by her mother, and they fell off the poor little girl's feet when she was running across the street to avoid two carriages that were approaching rapidly. one of the shoes could not be found at all, and the other was picked up by a boy who ran off with it, saying it would do for a cradle when he had children of his own."
~The Little Match Girl - Andersen's Fairy Tales


when i was little, my mom and my aunty pearly read to me from Fairy Tale books. The Little Match Girl, and The Red Shoes were two of my favourite tales.


'this frightened her terribly and she wanted to throw off the red shoes, but they stuck fast. she tore off her stockings, but the shoes had grown fast to her feet. so off she danced, and off she had to dance, over fields and meadows, in rain and sunshine, by day and by night, but at night it was fearful."
~The Red Shoes - Andersen's Fairy Tales

i began taking boxes of books out of the small storage room in my apartment a few weeks ago. i bought a new white book cube shelf and placed it right beside another white book cube shelf in my computer room. the books are still in random stacks on the floor; and stuffed into cubes that were already full of other books and various things. it has been five days since my mom's funeral, and i wonder when i will find energy to arrange each of the books in the cubes of the book shelf.

i use public transit; standing outside at the bus stop, or sitting in the back of the bus, it's a favorite place to to be alone with myself. to scribble thoughts.

... a bottle with some added pepsi. and voices that grow louder... when i'm the only passenger at the back of the bus.

just waiting for the bus

I drove Bruce to the airport early yesterday morning - i think it was 5:45 AM; weather was clear and roads wet with the sudden onset of milder post midnight temperatures. By the time I arrived home a mere 45 minutes later, a blizzard had descended up on the city... looking out from my 16th storey balcony, the air was suddenly very cold, my sight of the city suddenly hampered by a wall of snow smothering the morning air. Sleep was calling to me, but I ignored it. Even though I had fallen asleep just four hours earlier, I knew that returning to sleep would mess with the mood patterns in my day. I picked Cheri up at 9:50 AM and we went to church for a few brief moments. I wanted to connect with my friends, my community - a church community of those who find connection and those who walk through the doors on a sunday to find that they're observing an organism completely foreign to them. it would fail to be a church community without both. self-absorbed christians are not a church community. instead a community in danger of morphing into their own static organism living within a sorry isolation. the danger is that in the end, the one's outlook can become horribly skewed - and that their resemblence to the other is not that much different. from this world - if we dare attempt to peer through the obscured lense to the next ; maybe we'll find that we're all just waiting for the bus.
I hope and pray that my heart continues to ache and care for those whose burdens near-blind them; that I won't shudder at their misgivings; that I will forever remember that I have been beside them in the very same place, and that it's only by the amazing selflessness of God's people who reached out to me, that I am where I am today. I hope and pray that I can continue to endure the subtle bullying of those who prefer to retain the status quo. I hope and pray that my heart will not become blinded to those of whom I once was. I hope that in the weeks and days and hours ahead, that I will find the strength to grieve that which I've lost... in all this.

Though the Lord is great, he cares for the humble, but he keeps his distance from the proud. Though I am surrounded by troubles, you will preserve me... Your power will save me. The Lord will work out his plans for my life - for your faithful love, Oh Lord, endures forever. Don't abandon me, for you made me. Psalm 138: 6-8 (from the Bible).

swimming around skeleton fisherman

fish are interesting
people

fish don't think
it's necessary

to act like someone
they are not

they don't
think they need
to pretend to care...

but i like to
think they care
without
having to be
rewarded
for that

i think
that I'm
not far
from their
world

swimming amongst
plastic reefs

swimming beside
skeleton fisherman

connecting with those
that connect with me

i think that fish
are independent
thinkers

independent
swimmers

introverted

but choosing
to choose

other fish
like them

i think they're
content

to be
who they are

quite happy
to not
be bound

to the
unnecessary expectations
of others

but having
the heart
to care
for other fish

without the
false reward
of applause

i'm content
in my
fishtank

with the
plastic reefs
and
skeleton fisherman

System Of A Down - Lonely Day

cause they don't have any feelings

Something In The Way

by Nirvana

Underneath the bridge
The tarp has sprung a leak
And the animals Ive trapped
Have all become my pets
And Im living off of grass
And the drippings from the ceiling
Its okay to eat fish
cause they dont have any feelings

Something in the way, mmm
Something in the way, yeah, mmm

Underneath the bridge
The tarp has sprung a leak
And the animals Ive trapped
Have all become my pets
And Im living off of grass
And the drippings from the ceiling
Its okay to eat fish
cause they dont have any feelings

something in the way, mmm
Something in the way, yeah, mmm

Billy Idol - Eyes Without a Face

apparently the images are disturbing... depends what your disturbance meter is I guess! I just happen to like the Lyrics. And I kind of like Billy Idol too!

September is almost over

Then Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, said to them. "Leaders and elders of our nation, are we being questioned because we've done a good deed for a crippled man? Do you want t know how he was healed? Let me clearly state to you and to all the people of Israel that he was healed in the name and power of Jesus Christ from Nazareth... Acts 4:8b - 10a.

Drove into Calgary yesterday with my friend Lisa. We're staying at the Travellers Inn. It has Wireless Internet - yay! Lisa's using my HP Notebook and I'm using my Dell work Notebook. the adventure has been really fun so far. We leave Monday morning for Winnipeg. Our plan is to visit her dad (and her brother). I've been writing in my journal - well just places we've stopped and things we've seen --- like when the railroad man waved back when I had Mickey Mouse waving at him. That was 1:50 pm yesterday after the Moose Jaw 27 sign on HWY #1 West.

Listened to CD's all along the way - due to lack of Radio signal. Veggie Tales, The Doors, Creed, Radio - Colin James, Breath 22(song) etc, Aero Smith, Carrie Underwood...

Work has been a mess all summer. Two people resigned amidst the mess. I've continued, of course, walked in everyday and sat at my desk and worked like crazy. Buried myself in my work. I've gone for walks during lunch times... isolation is often preferable. But I'm not one to give up. I prefer to face things head on and move forward.





just imagine...

The Proclaimers-Sunshine On Leith Full LengthVideo

Facebook Song

A Facebook Song

Out of Gas on a cold day last February.

broken earth

"And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit.
At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook and the rocks split. The tombs broke open and the bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs, and after Jesus' resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many people. When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, "Surely he was the Son of God!"

Matthew 27: 50 - 54 (The Bible)

It's Friday. Today was my day off, but I went to work - to work on the Media part of the upcoming weekend service. During lunch time, my co-workers and I got into a conversation about things in the Bible. Things stated in various scripture passages, that are not explained or alluded to again. I mentioned that I'm curious about the dead people who walked out of their tombs. Dead people who were raised to life during the earthquake that happened after Jesus' crucifixion. I guess I could pick apart the passage - what they call an exegesis (an explanation or critical interpretation of the Bible). But I'm not too interested in doing that. I'm not a scholar, and not just that - life's too short to be so concerned about something that just isn't mentioned again. Or at least today is too short... But I do wonder, about those dead people who walked out of their tombs. What were their first thoughts? Did they suddenly realize that they were now alive? Or did they not realize that they had been dead in the first place? And what did the community around them think of such a thing? I imagine that even though the community was still immersed in the trauma of the current crucifixion (Jesus' death), that they would have noticed the dead people walking out of the broken earth. Crucifixion was common back then - it was the current form of execution at the time. What wasn't a common occurance, was the earth quake that resulted right after the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. Back to the dead people --- if it happened today, would they hike off to the first 7-Eleven they could find to buy coffee and a banana-chocolate-chip muffin? Scripture states that they were holy people. So maybe that means that they wouldn't purchase cigarettes at the same time - okay so now I'm getting ridiculous... but possibly you get the drift.

beth_creative

I was having some fun with the Google Logo...

Scribbled Meanderings

"But if you agree, you have to go the next step. If only the minority can say, 'It is against our conscience to fight because we must love enemies as well as friends,' and the majority must say, 'We must fight to protect pacifists so that they may have the right to think as they do,' then the majority, the non believers, may live. Who then is the martyr for the faith?" page 46, Peace Shall Destroy Many by Rudy Wiebe. I used to live in a small town where the majority spoke of Pacifism as the only way of life. That war was wrong and not necessary, and that only the non-believers would fight in a war. I remember one Remembrance Day time when one of the Pastors of that town was quoted in the local Newspaper as saying that "only the 'worldly' would fight in a war, and that certainly a Christian would not take up arms." Not that I personally 'believed' in war, but I remember the comments surrounding the duty of soldiers to be especially shallow. And I remember a few people talking about the author of this book - Rudy Wiebe. It seems that his book Peace Shall Destroy Many stirred alot of controversy. But sometimes that controversy is good for us, isn't it? Even though it 'gets us going' so to speak. Rudy Wiebe risked alot when he wrote that book. Many in his community turned against him - and I don't mean his town, but his fellow church people from across Canada that turned against him. Some felt that he had spoken out on a subject that should have been best kept silent. Interesting how a book that stirs the hearts of people and causes the otherwise compliant to think deeper turns out to be a best seller. I'm not sure why I love to read so much, but I do know that I'm not afraid of being challenged by someone else's scribbled meanderings. I borrowed a book to a friend today Emotional Intelligence by Daniel Goleman. Interesting how I felt a sudden trace of misgiving as I handed the book to his dad. Part of that though was because I had underlined various parts of it. One of the areas that stirred controversy in that book was where Goleman spoke of cognitive reframing, or seeing things differently, as a way of lifting oneself out of depression. Certainly a sensitive topic. I was given the book as a gift in 1998 when I was taking some courses in Family Studies and Psychology. A few friends questioned later on my reasons for taking those courses - they were curious why I would bother with it when I wasn't following a specific course of study. I tend to remain distant at those times... how do you explain to someone that you enjoy challenges that seem beyond their comprehension of a good time? Possibly they were concerned because of my personal battles with depression. At that point I found their concern a curious thing. I wondered if they were actually apprehensive of what they may discover about themselves. Critical thinking is a good thing, but not necessarily comfortable I suppose. And maybe I don't necessarily appear to think critically because I don't run around espounding the latest scribbled meanderings that I've read. Maybe I prefer to remain silent in order to confuse the curious.

Remembrance Day - John Hugh McKenna and me.

This morning I went with my friend Susan to the Remembrance Day ceremonies at The Convention Centre. My take on the whole ceremony is that I never really know how I'm going to react during the whole ceremony. I tend to stay in observer/reflective-mode... while trying to hold any emotions inside of me. Today's ceremony didn't cause the stirring things within me to overflow; as was the case last year - last year I openly shed tears. I think that it's okay to react either way. Today's Remembrance Day ceremony made me keenly aware of the fact that the grieving process really never ends. Or maybe it isn't allowed to end because of the yearly reminder. Although there will always be yearly reminders other than Rembrance Day for others who have lost a parent. And it isn't about me anyway. I do know that I will always wonder what it would have been like to have had my birth-father as I was growing up. As a little kid, I was acutely aware of the fact that he just wasn't there because he was dead. I was going to list examples of my friends with their dads and my inner reaction at those times, but ... that's rather redundant. Even as a child though, I was always aware that he will have experienced pain as he died. As I was sitting through the Remembrance Day Ceremony today, I would occasionally look over the crowd around me and wonder how many of them were 'once a kid just like me' - I think it'd be interesting to hear other's stories. But life is life, isn't it? We move forward and things hit each of us differently at various times. I find it interesting that the Bible is quoted and Christian hymns are sung at such a public event as Remembrance Day. As a Christian, I am well aware that there may eventually be opposition to that. This past week, someone at my workplace emailed a video to each of us in our office - A Pittance In Time by Terry Kelly. I'd hear it playing here and there and find that sadness would threaten to overtake me. ( Back in June, I placed the video onto Youtube and then on to my myspace page. If you aren't able to find it there, then here's the Youtube page. ) My birth father's name was John Hugh McKenna. He was born in Rutherglen, a small town outside Glasgow, Scotland. He died during a Training Mission while at CFB Gagetown, New Brunswick in Canada. He was 29 years old.

I have fridays off now...

Hope gives us the power to look beyond circumstances that otherwise appear hopeless. Hope keeps hostages alive when they have no rational proof that anyone cares about their plight: it entices farmers to plant seeds in spring after three straight years of drought. "Hope is seen as no hope at all," Paul told the Romans. He mentions some of the good things that might come out of difficulties: "Suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope." He lists hope at the end, instead of where I would normally expect it, at the beginning, as the fuel that keeps a person going. No, hope emerges from the struggle, a byproduct of faithfulness. Phillip Yancey from his book Reaching for the Invisible God... I started a new job on Monday. I went into it with alot of mixed feelings; instead of looking forward to a new challenge, I found myself saddened by what I was leaving behind, but not sure what exactly that was. I started that previous job shortly after we moved into Winnipeg. It was a place where I was able to place my physical self while I was waiting for the rest of me to emerge from my previous life. I worked hard to establish myself as a Professional at that workplace and made a few really good friendships. But most of all though, that was the place where I settled while life went about causing disturbance in my soul. It was the place that I pulled myself out of bed to get to 5 days a week for three and a half years - a workplace is always much more than just the job itself. It's also the community that you end up being thrust into and being surrounded by. Not like school where you can choose your friends and then move solo with them amongst the masses until the year and course of study is completed. While I was at that workplace, I began to become involved in a church and then had to pull away from it - that was a hard thing for me. I then went to another Church and tried so hard to become connected to it - I joined the sewing club, which meant driving in snow stormy weather to a community centre building on the other edge of the city, and helped with creating a large curtain backdrop; I joined a small group bible study; I helped with creating the Christmas bulletin, I helped with the powerPoint slides, and so on... And then my friend Darcie killed herself and life around me kept moving forward while mine stopped. And suddenly I was questioning my purpose in her life.. what could have I done to prevent her act of self destruction. And suddenly I was questioning my purpose and wondering how I was going to make it through the day - I'd go to bed at night wondering what the next day could possibly bring to the cloud of sadness and despair that was smothering me. At that point, all I could do was ask God to make me wake up the next morning - and He did. I can't explain it any other way. A friend had a remembering time at his house one evening shortly after the funeral/memorial service, and so of course I went; and that's where life took a turn - not that I realized it back then. I was introduced to some people I didn't know; and one of those people was a Pastor at this friend's church. What stands out in my mind about the Pastor is that he had those painted flames on his truck; and that he had a depth within him that only comes from an actual encounter with Jesus - I remember feeling somewhat disturbed by that. There are alot of Christians out there who are saved (sorry for that bad word); who have made that commitment to Jesus Christ but I question their actual encounter. What is really odd, now that I look back, is that a month later, I took up the Pastor's invitation to come and see him sometime. I didn't go to that Church. I didn't know that Pastor. I even ended up going to the wrong building for the appointment and so was almost late. a year later more happened. My aunt's 16 yr old grandson was murdered; my son's friend committed suicide; I was attacked on the way to work... Where am I going with all this? Basically, this was life happening. I don't know what else to say... and I didn't know how to express my pain audibly. It's like the words suddenly stopped when Darcie died. Silence moved in. I've always written things - my poetry and ramblings in my Words file on my hard drive; and my numerous on-line blogs, are evidence of that. Meanwhile I continued on occasion to go see the Pastor (Gerry), joined that church and have stayed; all the while at that previous workplace. So while I was at that previous workplace, it wasn't the previous me from the previous town in that previous life that emerged, it was a different me that emerged...