My kids wear hole-y pants

Yep, I allow my children to wear pants that have holes in them. They do have one or two pairs that don't have holes, but they have far more pairs that expose skin right around the knees.

When this first began happening, I would try to sew up the offending area on their jeans. This proved to be futile, as they would spend the next few days picking at the stitches and complaining that it 'felt weird'. They would eventually come home with an even bigger hole in their pants.

My next move was to have them wear long johns underneath the jeans (in winter). Apparently this is not 'cool', and was causing more problems than solving. I also attempted to add patches to the knees but for some unknown reason, both boys gagged at the thought of wearing cute little hearts over the gaping knee holes.

So, as it stands now, my children (mainly the boys) wear hole-y pants to school. I refuse to spend more money on clothes that barely last a month.

I'm hoping to cut these pants into shorts for the summer....let's just hope that's 'cool' enough for them! I'm so thankful that my girls like to wear dresses.

Just another day

Today I had the strongest cravings for coffee cream since I began this creamer boycott. I think I'm on day 9 or so and my resistance is starting to wear down. I almost had myself convinced that one cup with just a splash of cream isn't really 'cheating'....but instantly knew I'd feel guilty if I took it.

I have significantly reduced the amount of coffee that I drink in a day. I do feel a bit sluggish, but no withdrawal headache (yet). As for the jeans issue, it's hard to say if there is any change. They aren't any more tight (so I'm not making matters worse) but the looser fit is probably because I've stretched them with wear. I just finished a load of my laundry, so tomorrow I'll test the new-from-the-dryer size difference.

After my last post, I had to analyse why exactly I was doing this experiment. Was it because I felt pressure from society to fit a certain mold? Was I experiencing a resurfacing of my adolescent insecurities? Was I trying to hide the fact that I had given birth 4 times to rather large babies????

After much soul-searching, I have come to the conclusion that none of the above reasons are motivating me to continue with this unpleasant change. Nope, there is nothing about my decision to cut out creamers that even remotely resembles what some may refer to as a 'diet' (at least not in the typical sense).

This process started out as a money-saving exercise, and I do believe it's somewhat successful. You see, I don't have the funds to buy new jeans or bottoms (darn kids keep needing new clothes and food), so I need to be able to wear the attire that I have in my closet. In order to continue to wear said items, I need to stay a certain size (which I will not share here, thankyouverymuch!).

How much money have I saved? Well, our household now goes through much less creamer with only one person using it....which saves us a whopping $1.67 or so a week. In addition, because I am still fitting into my current wardrobe, that's another $500 not being spent on new clothes. (Okay, I'm exaggerating, but it was fun to think of spending all that money on just me!)

I think I'll reassess my objectives after 1 month. If there is no change in my ability to slip into my jeans, I'll pray for another path (because I really want my cream back!!!).

Do you see what I see?

Are looks important to God?

No really...Does He care what size pants I wear, or how many rolls are visible outside my many layers of clothes? Does it bother Him if I have a few chins, or hair growing on my upper lip? Does God look at a jelly-belly and think "nope, don't love that one"?

If God does require me to be tall and slender in order to be loved, I have two problems right off the bat:

1) I am not tall. Barring any radical surgery, I will not grow anymore vertically....in fact, I am losing height as I age.

2) I am nowhere near slender. Unless I suck in really hard and duct tape my mid-section tightly...but even then, I spill over in my shoulders and arms. (and there's absolutely no way to hide the hips and thighs)

Seems silly to even contemplate God sizing us up by what the world sees, doesn't it? So, if the obvious answer to these queries is 'of course He doesn't base His love on looks'....then why do we spend so much time focusing our efforts in this area?

What exactly does God measure us by? Well, it's very clear that God sees our heart, and knows our thoughts. Two things that we are capable of hiding from the world, but not from God.

Some of us have very large hearts....it's funny, society does not look down upon those with this condition. In fact, the larger your heart, the more accepted you become in all circles. No one will tell you your heart is 'too big' and that maybe it's time to show less of it.

Likewise, our thoughts and ideas have the capacity to build people up....but also tear people down. How we use our thoughts either alienates us from the 'crowd' or endears us to others. With God's help, the lies that we had believed for so many years that echo in our minds will disappear, and in their place will be joy and gladness that will spill over to encourage others.

The next time I'm trying on clothes, I am not going to ask myself (or my husband) "do I look fat in this?"....I think I'll ask a new question, "Is my heart full of love today, and my thoughts on Jesus?" Because in the end, that's all that matters. I will not be taking this temporary shell with me when I am made perfect. God sees the soul that will one day be ready for eternity with Him.

The change that I need is from within. There is not a single exercise machine or diet that can help me accomplish this!

Lord renew my heart and mind that I may grow in your love. Open my eyes to what you see, that I may live a fuller and more blessed life. Amen.

A piece of me

One of the most memorable lessons of my early teens came on a retreat with my Church's youth group.

After a long day of canoeing, swimming, hiking and fellowship, the group sat down for the evening's talk. The Camp leader started out by telling a story of a little girl who was 'hurt' in a way that scarred her deep within. He spoke of the lies that immediately began to fill her head....so many that it was hard for her to ignore them, so she began to believe them.

These lies began to form her identity. When she wanted to do the right thing, she would convince herself that she was damaged, and would therefore not try. The darkness that threatened to envelope her heart was always creating pressures to do what she knew was not right.

People would attempt to reach out to the girl and try to show her the beauty that she was within--the beauty God created her with--but she couldn't see what they saw. She was blind to the good because she was convinced she was not. How could good exist where so much ugliness lived?

As I listened to this story, I began to cry. The counselor's wife came to me and took me to another room. She recognized the little girl in me, and reached out to offer hope.

I was not willing to accept the words she offered, "It wasn't your fault." (I had heard this many times, but the lies prevented me from believing it). I didn't say anything for a long time. I just sat and cried. The wife whispered softly next to my ear words that I believe God gave her to share.

"You didn't deserve it."

Those words were the beginning of my healing. I had convinced myself that fighting with my siblings and sometimes being angry with my parents had made God upset with me....and that's why He allowed the hurt to happen. I felt that I deserved all the bad that I had been through, and that no matter what I did, I could never regain God's love.

When the counselor's wife uttered those few simple words, a key unlocked a piece of my life's puzzle that had been hidden in shame. God was not punishing me at the time I was hurt....He was carrying me through it, and preparing me for a time when He would cause all things to come to good for those who trust in Him.

I have shared openly with many women who have been hurt in the past, and I have seen my experience shed light on their own hurts and scars. I am shown the amazing healing power that God offers to all His children, and how He puts us back together one piece at a time.

The Living Word

This phrase has been a part of my life since I was a little girl. I first heard these words as my parents hosted Bible study each week, and spoke of The Bible as 'the Living Word'.

When I was old enough to read, I saw this phrase typed below the larger print of The Bible on my special book. I just assumed the two went hand-in-hand, and didn't think much of the deeper meaning behind the phrase.


As I grew, I pondered the meaning a little more, and came to the conclusion that it had something to do with the fact that The Bible had survived thousands of years, so therefore represented a long life.


A priest whom I am close to pointed out that the Living Word actually represents Christ....for He lives among us, and is The Word. Ahhhh! That made more sense! I accepted this as Truth (which it is), although I couldn't quite grasp the enormity of the concept.



Soon after my experience in the Holy Spirit (or baptism in the Spirit), I had my first encounter with a divine lesson. God placed a scripture on my heart, and instructed me to read it 3 times over. The reading was: Romans 12:3-5



"(3)For by the Grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. (4) For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, (5) so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another."



I read it the first time, and thought: "I know who this message is for!" There was a lady back home that I had always thought was self-righteous and 'holier than thou' in her attitude, and I was sure that God was telling me to share this passage with her to 'set her straight'! I was caught up in my excitement over being used in this way and almost forgot that I was supposed to read it 3 times....(why Lord? If I 'get' it after one reading....why do I need all 3?)



After the second read-through, I was more convinced than ever that my first thoughts were accurate. I must be a really GOOD Christian if my first instincts were so accurate, right?


I began reading for the 3 time, with a puffed-up ego and pride.....that was soon deflated as I realized the passage was for ME! It was me who was thinking more of myself than I ought to....it was me that was not behaving as a member of the body of Christ, and it was me who needed a reminder that we all have a role to play in God's plan.....no matter how different our 'functions' were.

How awesome is it that Christ knew I needed to read it 3 times before my eyes would be open? He knows me, and wants me to know Him.


In those moments, the true meaning of 'The Living Word' was revealed to me. The words came alive on the pages of my Bible, and grew in order to teach me. The Spirit within my soul showed me where I needed growth through a passage that I had read numerous times before, but had never 'seen'. I can read a passage on one day and understand a piece of the puzzle, and that same passage on another day--in another situation--can mean something completely different, and yet helpful.

Christ is alive! In our hearts, through His Word, and in Heaven.

I can feel Him. I can know Him, and I can Love Him. These things are only possible if He lives.

An exciting life?

I was reading a blog earlier (One day at a time), and Mrs Sandy mentioned that it surprised her that people took interest in her day to day life. Compared to the experiences of other blog writers, she questioned what made people read and comment about her life.

I, for one, am fascinated by the fact that Mrs Sandy is a foster parent. Her ability to divide her time and love with so many little ones, and mold them into confident members of society....all the while continuing to nurture the family she gave birth to, is an adventure in and of itself. The lessons and perspectives gained by such selfless actions are what draw me to that particular blog.

Emily has travelled on a rough road that began as pain, torment and anguish....but has allowed her sadness to turn into joy. I am enthralled by the Grace she has shown in the midst of a pain that is beyond my comprehension.

Sunshine is timid and yet so full of life. Her story may not seem 'made for Hollywood', but her spirit shines through as she speaks of the love she has for her family.

Bestill has found a way to share her praises through fears and uncertainty. I am encouraged by her words and thoughts that are so freely shared.

S.Sarah's blog was one I stumbled across as I read comments on another. I believe I was led to her blog to offer some words of comfort and possibly a friendship. I see her reaching out, and I know that Christ would grab onto her hand....so I did too.

All of us at some point or another feels insignificant in this world....like our experiences and 'talents' are of no use to anyone else. God feels different. He uses us in ways that sometimes we don't see the ripple effect, or the outcome of our obedience to His Will. Sometimes we are blessed to see the fruit of our actions.....which serves to remind us that our thoughts, words and deeds have the potential to reach far and wide.

My story has many elements to it, and each experience was essential for me to come to know Christ in a personal way. He knew me from before I was formed, and He also knew what was necessary for me to endure in order to 'hear' him. He was there for me when I turned my back on Him so many times.....His free Grace saved me from myself. Because I am forgiven much, I chose to love much. How can I withhold love, when Christ gave it so freely?

There is no such thing as a 'boring' life when Christ is at work within. In fact, there is no such thing as a boring life even when you don't know Christ....because He knows you! I am privileged to know some of you as well.

On loan

I have always wanted to be a Mom. It has been my heart's deepest desire since I can remember (and I have a very long memory!).

I have been training for this purpose from the moment I took my first breath; the scream I let out on the day of my birth demonstrated that my lungs were designed for summoning children from afar. This ability has served me well.

All of my dolls were very well taken care of.....until my younger sister was old enough to get her hands on them. Even then I had the natural instinct to comfort each one as their face was destroyed by magic marker or their hair cut with safety scissors. I learned through each of these difficulties to forgive my sister and to love my 'babies', even with their faults.

I began babysitting at 12 years of age, and loved every minute of my time spent with others' children. There was a sense of accomplishment when I would walk into a new home and get the children to bed with no fussing! Word spread fast that I had a 'children whisperer' quality, and my calendar was always booked.

It's no surprise to those who knew me well that I began my family early. Although my first was not planned, I was fully prepared in my heart to raise him (as I'd been trained!). I couldn't wait to dress him up (just like my dolls), and carry him around in the snugly. He would be mine, all mine.....or so I thought.

Through the years (and a few children later), it occurred to me that God had given me these children on loan. He is the one who created them. He is the one who paid for them. And one day, He will call them home. Until that time, I am given the honour of raising them in the knowledge of Him, and am expected to invest my talents in them that they may grow interest for Christ.

Prior to this revelation, I had been trying to mold them to my standards. I would have bad days and take some of my frustrations out on my kids, then justify it by mentally stating, "They are my kids, I'll raise them how I feel is best." I felt that somehow I had ownership over them, and therefore, did not have anyone to answer to over my failings.

I am so grateful that the Lord stepped in when He did. It took losing two pregnancies for my eyes to be opened up to the Truth that "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away." He is the True Master for my children, I am but a temporary guardian.....trusted with the task of directing them to the straight path.

When I have my bad days (yes, I still have many of those), I no longer justify my actions or poor choices.....I make amends. I apologize to my children--not for addressing their behaviours, but for doing so in a hurtful manner. In this way, I am acknowledging that they do not belong to me, but belong to the same Master that I serve.

That's Impossible!

I've mentioned before that God comes to me in dreams and visions. Sometimes I 'hear' His message right away, other times it takes a few attempts for my mind to have an 'aha!' moment. Sometimes I just simply hide from the responsibility of being His vessel....


About 2 years ago, I began having a persistent dream. In the dream, God was telling me that it was time to give Him the full tithe at Church. Not only that, but it had to be decided by my husband, Arnaud! All he had to do was commit to 2 months, and if God had not revealed Himself to Arnaud by then, we could stop tithing.

Let me paint a picture of the enormity of the task I had just been asked to do.....



It had taken me nearly 5 years to convince my husband to give even a slight portion of our income to the Church, as he held onto some pretty strong views regarding Churches and their spending habits. Each year, as Arnaud would get his raise at work, I would increase our giving by the same percentage. I was careful not to make too big a deal about the amount, as I knew his issues were deep.



I actually laughed in my sleep at the thought of bringing this up with my husband. I was sure he'd look at me like I had 3 heads. So I ignored the message. I convinced myself that it was just my deep yearning to please God, and my mind was playing tricks on me again.

The next night, God came to me with the same message. I told myself it was impossible to think this could be from God....I mean, He knows my husband too, right?

For two weeks God pursued me in dreams. After that amount of time, with little to no sleep because the message was getting more urgent, I finally broke to God's Will and spoke with my husband. I said word for word the message and waited for a response......

"Uh, I'll think about it." Okay then. That night I had the deepest, most restful sleep I could remember.

A week later, Arnaud still hadn't given a definitive answer to God's message. I had almost forgotten about it, but God is an excellent reminder of His plans. I began to lose sleep again, with a new message: Arnaud now had to give his answer by that Saturday...which gave him about a week to decide.

On Wednesday of that week, my husband and I discovered we were pregnant again. In normal circumstances, this news would bring great joy and celebration. Instead, it brought fear and confusion.



You see, after our fourth child was born (a year prior), my doctor told me that having another child would be very dangerous. So, I gave permission for the doctor to tie my fallopian tubes during the c-section. Although I couldn't be sure that what I was doing was God's direction, I did know that He would forgive me for lacking faith in that moment.

Thus, the fear that we both felt with this new impossible situation. I was also experiencing some pain in one of my sides, and feared an ectopic pregnancy. That night, The Lord came to me in a dream and told me that this child would be a catalyst for great things that were to come. I had peace in my heart again.

On Friday, we learned that baby was growing inside the uterus! The odds of this happening were very low, and we were all in awe of God's power in this miracle.

Saturday came.....and Arnaud had not given an answer. I was completely absorbed with planing for another precious baby, and 'the message' was far from my mind. That day, while in the care of my husband, our youngest daughter fell down the stairs and broke her arm. It was a scary time for all of us, but she was okay aside from her arm.

As we prepared to go to Church that Sunday morning, I went to write our check for the Tithe. I turned to Arnaud and asked if he had decided the amount yet......

"Let's do the whole Tithe. Two months, right?"

I was shocked! I didn't question it, but there was no way my husband could have just decided to give more money--it was impossible! I wrote the check for 10% and off we went.

We lost the baby at 7 weeks along. We both were devastated, but I hung to the promise of the message I had received, that 'he would be a catalyst for great things.'

A week later, Arnaud received a promotion that was not foreseeable or possible 2 weeks earlier. The stresses at work eased, and he began being praised for his efforts there.

The 2 month mark arrived, and I sat Arnaud down for a talk. I let him know he had fulfilled the obligation of 2 months (which was part of the message), and did he want to go back to what we were giving before?

"Sarah, when you first shared the dream with me, I thought you had finally lost it. I put it out of my mind. When you reminded me and gave me a deadline, I was annoyed, and avoided it. Then you got pregnant....I was scared and saw God's power to do the impossible. When Kalyna broke her arm, I knew that God was upset with me for not answering him. That's why I agreed to the whole Tithe. I didn't want to know what God's next step was! After we started Tithing, I have seen God in the blessings that have followed. I don't want to go back to doubting."

I had prayed for years that my husband would come to know The Lord in a personal way....and in that moment, The Lord revealed that He had heard my pleas, and answered them! God takes the impossible and makes it possible!

It will take my whole lifetime to grow into the servant that The Lord has called me to be, and as I attempt to lean more on my Faith (and less on my own understandings), I am also learning to listen to His voice.

My husband and I both continue on our journey of faith with the knowledge that God is right here beside us the whole way.

"The sign"

A man was stranded on the roof of his house during a flood. He had a deep Christian faith, so he began to pray earnestly for God to rescue him.

After an hour, a young boy in an inflatable boat floated by, and asked if he needed help. The stranded man replied, "No, sir, I am waiting for God to save me." The boy in the boat left.

Once again, the stranded man petitioned the Lord to save him. About 2 hours later, a man paddled by in a canoe. He saw the stranded man on the roof, and asked if he needed a ride to safety. "No thank you, God will save me--I have faith." The man paddled away.

"Please Lord, give me a sign that you will save me!" cried the man, who was still stranded on his roof. Just as he looked up, a helicopter appeared overhead. On the loudspeaker, the pilot asked if the man needed to be rescued. The stranded man waved the helicopter away, yelling, "I'm okay, I don't need your help, I'm waiting for God!"

The water continued to rise above the house. The man perished in the flood, and went up to Heaven. Once there, he asked God, "Lord, I called out to you to save me, why didn't you?"

In a booming, yet loving voice, the Lord God replied, "I sent you a boat, a canoe and a helicopter....what more did I have to do?"



How often do we ask God for signs in our life to 'prove' that He is Lord? How often do we cry out to Him and ask that He fix a problem or take away a hurt? How often do we listen and accept the help He sends?

I heard this joke many years ago, and laughed at its truth--both in how God sometimes answers our prayers, as well as in how we expect God's answer to look different....bigger.

Imagine the Jews' disappointment when for centuries they had cried out for a saviour, and God's answer was a tiny baby, laying in a manger. Surely God would have sent someone a little more capable....a lot more powerful, right? And, how could He die, if He was indeed the One?

I know in my life, I have rejected help from others time and again. Whether due to pride, embarrassment or just plain self-pity, I did not accept the people sent to me to ease my burdens. I wanted the answers to come from God Himself (with a bolt of lightening or two), I just didn't expect the message to come through friends and acquaintances--or my children.

I have learned over time that to be part of the Body of Christ means that there are other parts that assist my function, and I in turn, assist their function. If we are not working together, we are not growing or accomplishing any of God's work. God can even use non-believers (or 'pre'believers, as I like to refer to them!) to help His children in times of need.

I think my biggest hurdle comes because I sometimes question the intent of those who do not know Christ. I do love "pre" believers, and I have no problems separating the sin from the sinner, but I have a very hard time accepting that God may be working through them to help me. I am actively working on this aspect, as I do believe I've missed the boat, canoe and helicopter on many occasions in this area.

Bigger is not always better

And longer is not always more interesting!

Here's a short post.

My bedroom is rarely tidy. The bed gets made, and the clean clothes are in drawers...but it's the room that becomes the catch-all for 'stuff'. The top of my dresser has three distinct areas: Jewelry, books and magazines, and husband's worn-but-not-dirty clothes.

The rest of my house (including all four kids' rooms) is tidy and organized. I spend most of my energy on these areas, and at the end of the day, I just don't have the energy to tackle my room.

Today it hit me that this routine reflects my attitude in life. I make sure everyone else's space is liveable and comfortable, while sacrificing my own. I do put others first, and that's okay--even commendable; however, God wants me to do this with thanksgiving in my heart, with a 'tidy' and comfortable refuge to fall back on while refueling the Spirit within me.

I am going to make time to refuel in my life. It may (or may not!) start with a tidy bedroom.

Savannah's sweater

Savannah Grace.

I'd like to introduce you to a very special little girl that has had a profound effect on my life. She taught me about love, life, and letting go. Her strength was displayed with each hurdle she overcame, but her strongest moment happened without a sound.


I first heard about Savannah when her Mom announced she was expecting in an online parenting group. Emily very hesitantly shared that she was expecting her fourth child, but had experienced complications with the pregnancy. At the end of her first trimester, a visit with the doctor indicated that the pregnancy would most likely end soon.


The little one growing inside had other plans, though. She fought harder than those doctors thought she could, and kept hanging on. She defied all odds and entered into the second trimester with a strong heartbeat.


I didn't know Emily well (aside from reading some of her posts), and I made it a point not to become too involved with 'people on the screen'. It was still a new concept to me to be able to 'talk' real time with someone typing a world (or country) away.


I offered some words of comfort and support, letting Emily know that I would pray for her little one. I felt so helpless, living so far away, and prayed that God would show me a way of reaching out to both Emily and her sweet, unborn child.


One afternoon, while sitting down to finish knitting a sweater for our church's mission, it dawned on me that I should make a layette set for the tiny baby forming within Emily. I logged onto the parenting site, and asked if it would be alright to send along a little package. It was then that I was informed that Emily had been admitted into hospital with heavy bleeding. My heart sank. Things didn't look good and I braced myself for heartbreaking news. I was surprised at how close I felt to Emily, and vowed to open myself up to help her.


Emily was 25 weeks pregnant, and losing quite a bit of blood....but baby was happy and healthy, with a strong heartbeat. My heart filled with joy! The doctors decided to keep her in hospital, and aim for 27 weeks before taking baby out. Emily shared with us that she was expecting a little girl.


I had two weeks to get that sweater set done. I picked out a lilac colour of wool that had a shimmer to it. I prayed each day for the safety of that little girl, as I stitched together the sweater with love. Since I knew that the little one would be born prematurely, I knit a mini cap with the same wool, and embroidered the nickname "Goober" that had lovingly been given to her.

I finished the set with a couple days to spare! I boxed it up, included some other little trinkets, and shipped it off to the hospital where Emily awaited her youngest girl.


Little Savannah Grace left this earth while still in the comfort of her mother's womb. I could not accept the words I had read on the update. NO! This is not the way things were supposed to turn out! She is a fighter, there had to have been a mistake.


I cried. I prayed for Emily and her family--as much sadness as I felt, I knew they were feeling a million times more heartbreak.

The sweater!! Oh, no....when it arrives, it will just add salt to a gaping wound. I prayed that Emily would be protected and supported as she opened the package I sent. When it finally arrived at the hospital, two weeks after Savannah's funeral, Emily opened the box surrounded by the nurses that helped care for her.

Emily shared with me that she smiled as she saw the embroidered 'Goober' on the preemie cap I had knit. I praised God that she was able to smile in the midst of all her grieving.

We shared letters and emails over the next few days, weeks and months. In Savannah's short life, she had a lasting influence on my understanding of what it is to love my children. It's not about clinging and sheltering, it's about letting go and loving.


We are not guaranteed a single day with those we love, so enjoy each day as a gift. I cannot express accurately my gratitude for the lessons both Emily and Savannah taught me during those times, and still teach me today. My life is better for knowing and loving them both.