English countryside 2009

I’ve been thinking a lot in the middle of the night, in between the sheets of waking baby…

I have been thinking a great deal about life as story.

Each of our lives follows a narrative arc. Much of life can feel like one-offs. Like ‘why did THAT happen?’ But our lives are telling a story.

Take Jesus for example. Jesus was born as a baby. A little, fragile, pooping baby. He grew up in the family home, the family trade. He was a normal kid (except, of course, he was God.) He went to the temple in his teenage years and wowed the religious folk with his incredible knowledge of Scripture and inordinate wisdom. He did other stuff, but it probably all seemed random. He built a table with his dad, Joseph. He talked with his mom, Mary. He visited the neighbours. He went fishing. And then, when he was in his 30s, he started doing this crazy stuff like calling people to follow him. His ministry began. He healed people, cast out demons, taught a new kind of way — a way where all are equal under God, a way where compassion and love (not religiosity) win, a way where the weak are strong, the first last, the poor rich. And we all know the great ending…

Jesus’ life has an arc, a story line, and it still continues…

So will ours. 

I often look back at my life thus far and scratch my head. Why did that happen? Why did I date him? Why did that relationship end?  How come that career trajectory came to a sudden end?  Why’d I get involved in politics? Why’d I work for a Christian ministry? 

I look ahead and the question marks continue to lay like dominos. Where am I going? How will this all end up? Will I ever end up writing for audiences bigger than this blog, bigger than small periodicals? Will my voice matter? Will I have an impact on people’s lives, bigger than my immediate circle of family and friends?Will I be a good mother, wife, friend? Will I ever make something of myself in public life?

I am beginning to connect the dots, the positive dots. The good things that have happened. The steps I’ve taken. The path of rocks God has laid across the pond of my life. There is an arc to my story. There is a plan, there is a point, I am going somewhere.

Yes we are. We all are.

Your face is an orbit. Pursed lips, supple skin. Bright eyes, like moons. A constellation.

You are a little ship, a face like an ocean cresting. Raven hair and blue eyes the size of boulders. 

I swim in your sea from day’s break to day’s end. You are my life’s greatest treasure. Lying beside you these first days has felt like a rebirth. Your soul, your face, every inch of you speaks pure. Your loveliness outshines the rainbow that nestled itself outside our window yesterday. I would spend the rest of my days gazing at your face if the world, the Lord, would allow. Instead I will take my moments, store them in my heart like gold, and watch you grow, grow, grow up into heaven, out into the world.

Here are some recent shots:

Growing and (subsequently) slowing. 

Hanging out with the newest addition to the Lim family: Eliana!

Discovering some parental perks.

Indulging in some of Vancouver’s finest dining (here, at the Vancouver Club).

Still managing to dress-up.

Savouring Friday evenings patio-side. (Here, enjoying carrot cake at Subeez with Matthew Cowper).

Working…

Here, at Main Street’s Bean Around the World, writing my Comment column. 

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Photos to come: A final pre-baby getaway to Victoria and a recent day spent on Bowen Island. 

Image: by By-Your

It won’t be long until I’ll no longer be able to hop in a car at 10 pm and speed up the Sea to Sky for a sunny day spent with my nephews. So tonight I will indulge.

It’s a bit of a theme in my life at the moment. I have two more months before I am officially a mama and I’m basking in every moment. It’s not that I’m not looking forward to motherhood - I am, so much! - rather, I’m trying to fully embrace the seasons of life and for now I’ve got a midnight trip in me. 

Have a happy Monday!

© Christina Crook 2009  [London street]

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“The irony of commitment is that it’s deeply liberating — in work, in play, in love. The act frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around as rational hesitation. To commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life.”

- Anne Moriss

True, true words particularly applicable for this soon-to-be-mama/writer/business-owner/newly-returned-home-domestic.

Today I commit to my work (turning phrases, quoting on projects,) my play (working on our Europe album et al,) my love (creating a home for my husband, our child, sorting through boxes, making my third run of donations, cooking, spring cleaning) — and yes, I shall be liberated for it!

the other day i hand wrote a letter to my friend matthew in combermere. i knew the words would only be read once. only for my eyes and his.

it felt like something sacred.

sacredness can not be commercialized, blogged or sold. it can’t be purchased, traded or craiglisted. it is once. forever. present. living.

sacredness is the holiness of a moment slipping through our aching hands.

i think jesus would think letter writing parties are wonderful.