singin' sweet home alberta all summer long...

yesterday i rode in a cattle drive for two of my closest alberta-friends. Cali and Eric were moving their cows 20 kms on horseback, and kindly requested that i ride with them, in total there were 12 wrangles herding the cattle for 20 kilometres. it was 30 degrees out yesterday, today i am red like a lobster, but man, i had pretty much the best may long weekend of all time! we took alot of breaks, considering that it was so darn hot, and we had a lot of cow/calf pairs in our herd. we crossed 2 highways, and only 1 driver got mad at us. we had several farmers stop and offer to hire us to move their cows. and then when we got to the pasture, we camped out for the night, swam in the dug out, and had some good times.
it's day like these that make me oh-so-glad to be an alberta farm girl. even the white rein-lines on my burnt hands can not bring me down! and now i'm off to work.

Mystery and Majesty

and so i contemplate the mystery and the majesty of all that You have done for me...

there are days, too infrequent in my life, when I'm knocked to my knees, and once I'm there, all I can do is seek the heart of one who has given me life.
God is gracious beyond my comprehension, and the way in which He continues to seek me, even while I am seeking my own selfish endeavors, astounds me. It's hard, impossible in fact, to see myself as God sees me, to hold in balance my gifts and talents and shortcomings and failures and sins and gifts with any sense of objectivity. I'm underwhelmed by the positive and overwhelmed by the negative. But He, He sees it all, and still chooses to love me, to desire my servanthood, to use me in His work, and that blows me away. How He is somehow able to to portray His love and grace thru the broken vessle that I am is something I'm having difficulty reconciling, it's certainly humbling, and at the same time, exhilirating.
I don't know what the point of this rambling is, but I'm excited. I'm excited about God and the work He is doing around me, and sometimes, somehow, thru me. There is something about the potential in life, the grace I have been extended, that makes me want to bask in the love of my maker, but then quickly send that out to others. I love ministry.

an inch and a half

so, i'm a how-to-person. yep, i work at RONA.
i've had 1 8.5-hour shift, and i'm already being fast tracked as a headcashier and have been offered to advance to 2 departments, offered the position of personal assistant to the manager and been told that i'll be moving to contractor sales as soon as cash has more staff. it's good to be friendly and useful, i'm learning evermore.
i'm pretty sure that, once again, this is going to be a job that has daily stories rich in humour, especially if the dirtyoldmen are all as bold as the ones i met today. my favorite day1 story is as follows (Gav, i'm so writing this for your laughter.)
This old man is buying plywood, and the stickers are conveniently on the bottom of the stack of 10 sheets, so i measure the first sheet so i can look up the code, as i do so, i say aloud, as its easier for me to remember if i say something, ' an inch and a half' the old man, not skipping a beat, looks at me, and says 'little lady i'll show you an inch and a half...' oh man. i didn't know whether to laugh or run away in fear, so i shook my head, made some remark about having worked with welders so his humour was nothing new to me, and went on my merry way. and then, as i was musing on this story, i realized the incredible humour in what he said. an inch and a half, did he actually say that? oh man. i want that moment back. but then again, i'd rather have the job, so it's probably best i was tongue tied.

selfish

driving is cathartic for me. it has been that way for most of my life, i used to ride the bus over 3 hours each school day, and once i began driving, i drove almost an hour each way to get to school, work, church, etc. in this, i became a friend with silence, i knew the roads i traveled with an intimacy only those who drive the same long stretch for many years understand. and so, driving became the time of day i spent thinking and praying. i passed the same fields, the same houses, the same farm animals every day. and i loved the familiarity as much as i loved the hours of introspection each day granted.

i now live in a world where school is 8 minutes from home, church is barely 15 and work is in my house or 20 minutes away. i miss the cathartic driving experiences, the way that the hay bales and fields full of cattle lulled me into deep thought. thus, i've had to adjust to the visually and auditorially (i think i just created that word, deal with it) loud world i live in, and find my way to introspection here. it hasn't been easy, but it has been found, for which i'm greatful.

nevertheless, on days like today, i wish my teensy tiny little older-than-me red and rust colored suzuki forsca was still running, so we could travel those roads again, with some freshly brewed kickass in hand, and the catharsis could begin.

life is not easy, but it's sure as smack worthwhile. i wish i could see clearly the woman, the person, God is calling me to be, and embrace her, live into all she is created to be. but i'm not seeing her right now, i'm seeing the pieces that don't seem to fit, but can't seem to figure out what should be in their place. but more and more i'm feeling discontent with where i am and who i am and it scares me. i want to do this easy thing, the easy school, the easy life. but i don't think it's where i'm supposed to be, and that's not a pleasant feeling. and i have a sinking feeling that it's the life i keep avoiding coming back to stake it's claim on me once again, which i sincerely do not appreciate. i want to do the easy thing, not the right thing. i want to be selfish. and i don't want to go thru another change. but then i wonder, have i only gone thru so much change because i'm being disobedient and that's why i am always left, eventually, in a place of discontent?

if obedience didn't require sacrifice it wouldn't be worth it. but dang, i'm selfish.