A Crimson Cord;

On August 31, 2014 I bought my last cup of dark roast at my favourite coffee shop and drove myself, with all the belongings I would take with me for the next 6 months, to my dad's farm. I would spend my last week in the prairies there, prior to my flight from Regina to Comox - a week that flew by at breakneck speed.  A good part of the time was spent taking care of Lisa’s boys.  Wyatt had been diagnosed with hand, foot and mouth disease so neither of the boys were welcome at daycare. I wondered if the first week of my move back home would see me in quarantine. This little malady was contagious and over the course of the week, I had become Wyatt’s new favourite person. One night, after bath time, my dad sitting in his recliner and me sitting on the couch, Wyatt came running into the living room, clean and fresh. His arms outstretched, he ran towards us. My dad put his hands out to receive Wyatt and put him on his lap as he had done dozens of times except that Wyatt...

There were a lot of factors that lead me to the decision to move back to my home town, not the least of which was that I desperately missed all the places I had loved for over 25 years of my life while I had been on my extended stay in the prairies. I knew things and people would have changed but I still had a few friends on the Island who had known me all or most of my life. And it had been those people who, at the demise of my marriage and the resulting exodus of many (seemingly) good friends, had not only stuck by me, supported and encouraged me, but had reminded me of the person I used to be. Of the person I still was. I had been feeling a tremendous pull to move home since 2011. I had thought that my frequent trips to the Island would satisfy that pull. I told myself that I could travel back to Vancouver Island any time I wanted but the last 4 trips, in just over a year, had done just the opposite. Every time I left I would spend my last day on the Island in tears  and the f...

David had told me early on, that with all the changes I was embarking on in my life, I would need to immerse myself in God’s love for me to get through what was ahead. It was an unexpected side trip I had ventured into.  Despite the fact that I didn’t really want to explore the idea of God’s love for me (I seriously had come to believe that God did not love me, was disappointed in me, and at best, tolerated me - you know - because I was a mistake and all) nevertheless, I had started to listen to various speakers and was reading a wide variety of books, most notably, Blaise Pascal and Brennan Manning. All of them dared me to believe and trust in God’s love for me in a new and deep way. And in the same way that I found it so difficult to accept my dad’s love for me, I was equally hesitant to believe that God could or would love me completely. I had spent years steeling myself from hurt and rejection and I was so afraid to let down my guard. But I read an excerpt from Brennan Ma...