Someone Is Watching...

He was a year older than most of his classmates due to having had to repeat grade 3. Now in grade 8, he was fighting what seemed to be certain failure. He listened as the school principal told his mother that he would never graduate from high school and that her best hope was to get him into a technical school where he could learn a trade. While most would have given up, a fire began to blaze in his heart. He was determined to prove his principal wrong and make his mother proud.

Several months later he waited with bated breath for the word - how had he done? Devastated would not have been too mild a word to describe him upon hearing that he had failed. For the next three days he battled embarrassment, disappointment and shame as he considered his options. And then a miracle - a call from the principal to say a mistake had been made and that he had passed!

The determination continued as over the next five years, he excelled in high school and then four years of post secondary education that netted an Honours Bachelor's degree. A year of work and the dream of a Master's Degree could not be ignored. One semester into the program, a child on the way, studies were put aside. Three years later, through correspondence, another semester was completed. It would be six years before the hope of continuing became reality and another eight before it came to an end. Fourteen years filled with a nightmare of medical complications, lost jobs, re-education, a new career, three more children and three changes of address but somehow he made time and put forth the effort to complete the courses required for his Master's Degree.

Last week Thursday the diploma arrived in the mail. It was picked up by his 20 year old daughter who is struggling to find her way back for her third year of university. To her, it was the inspiration she needed to believe that she could and would reach her goal.

The man in the story? My incredible husband, Derrick. The young woman? Our daughter, Erin. The picture? Evidence that it's worth persevering...someone is watching...someone who needs an example to follow, a success story to be motivated by, Someone to believe in.

Thank you, Derrick, for being an inspiration to us all; for giving our children the example of a man who does not give up and who gives his best effort even when it looks like the goal may not be achieved. I love you.

Crab Apple Jelly

For years I have thought that I would like to try my hand at canning & preserving. A few days ago a friend told me she had an abundance of crab apples decorating her back yard, offered me some. She had told me how easy it was to make crab apple jelly and since in our house we all enjoy jam & jelly I decided that I would try. Last night was the night...

I won't bore you or embarrass myself by giving you all the messy details of the process. Suffice to say that by the time I was finished every large pot and measuring jug I own as well as several bowls and implements decorated my kitchen counters . Even though it was after 11 - PM that is - I was so exhilarated and excited about having made my own jelly I washed everything I had used to make the jelly before heading up to bed.

I did have a niggling concern as I walked up the steps. I had done my best to follow the instructions on the Certo packet as well as the advice my friend had shared with me but the jelly had not set by the time my cleaning up was finished. Come to think of it, maybe it wasn't the excitement and exhilaration that propelled me to clean up but rather my desire to stay up longer to see if the jelly set. In any case, I tipped the jars and found that the contents were still quite liquid. Oh well, maybe I had just made a batch of crab apple syrup. French toast for breakfast on Saturday morning?

I came down to the kitchen to have breakfast with Derrick and to my great delight found that, overnight, the jelly had set - YIPPEEE! We were able to enjoy (this is for you Catherine) P.C. blue menu whole wheat English muffins with some of my own crab apple jelly on it. Delicious!

In the quiet of my kitchen after Derrick left for work (my teenagers are still asleep) I thought back on last night's experience and all that making jelly entailed...

1. The crab apples needed to be carefully washed so that the grass, dirt and grit were removed.
2. They then needed to be sorted and those that had begun to rot were removed.
3. Then they were ready to be cooked. This required me to check the pot several times, monitoring the temperature, stirring and eventually crushing the fruit to extract all the flavour.
4. The liquid had to be poured off and strained, removing all the pulp of the fruit.
5. At this point the pectin and sugar were added and there was more cooking.
6. Finally the prepared liquid was poured in sterilized jars which were sealed.
7. Overnight, a simple liquid became my prized crab apple jelly.

Once again God has spoken to me about my need to be patient with the process I am in the midst of. The one that will make me more like Him, that will cause me to be the most content and effective Nicola I can be. There are many steps involved, some of which may not be pleasant - like being boiled, stirred and crushed. Some are time consuming, frustrating and leave a big mess - like the straining process that removes the stuff that prevent the successful completion of the process. However some are indeed pleasurable - sort of like the adding of sugar to the fruit liquid. Eventually, though, there is the sealing process and the completion of the work that proves the process was successful.

I have often talked to God about wanting to back out of the process I am in. Did I mention that about half way through I began to think it was definitely not as simple as Cheryl made it out to be and that I wasn't sure I would finish it or try again? Well now that I have my finished product, I definitely want to try again so Cheryl - if you have any more crab apples, I'll take a bag or two. Similarly, once I get past my moments of despair, I confess to God that I really do want to see it through to the end, that I do want to experience the sealing and setting that will allow me to experience the joy and satisfaction of having made it...at least till the next process begins.

By the way - those are my jars of jelly in the picture at the top of the post. And if you're interested, I've posted a picture of my dresser in the post about Enhancing Value - better late than never?

Enhancing Value

Thirty years ago a friend gave me a beautiful antique dresser. From time to time I have entertained thoughts of refinishing it but never got around to it. When we moved 3 years ago a friend who knows antiques admired my dresser so I told her of my plan to refinish it. She reacted quickly telling me that I should not do that because it would reduce the value of the dresser as an antique. She pointed out that the scuff marks on the front of the dresser add character as do the scratches on the top. She advised me to clean the wood with a mixture of turpentine and mineral spirits as that would freshen it up without detracting from its value.

I have thought about that incident many times since then. I mistakenly assumed that I needed to remove the evidence of wear and tear on my dresser in order to increase its value only to find that it was the wear and tear that added value. I do the same thing in my life. I think that I need to remove the scuff marks of life in order to make myself acceptable or presentable. I'd like to avoid the process of scuffing all together if I could because it would be far less painful that way.

Even though I have a beautiful white runner on the top of my dresser to hide some of the ugliest of the scratches, I have a greater appreciation for the scuff marks and other blemishes on it. Now the challenge - look at my scuff marks in the same way. I am slowly learning that my scuff marks are of value in my life. Because of them I am wiser, more sensitive, more understanding, more resilient and more capable of dealing with the scuffing experiences I will face in the future.

And that reminds me of something my Mum used to tell us. We sometimes pray and often hope that we will become like Jesus but when God begins the process, we start complaining because it's not very much fun. I want to believe that my scuff marks are evidence of the process of becoming more like Christ. I think I'll look into some turpentine & mineral spirits for the soul - maybe a dose of Scripture and some time with the Holy Spirit - so I can be freshened up.