a faith observed: Not a blogger and no longer a jogger

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Not a blogger and no longer a jogger

A lot has happened in the few months since I last blogged. I've rediscovered that I am definitely NOT a blogger (kind of knew that already but thought I might change my ways). However I have been frequenting FACEBOOK a bit more so I guess I am not altogether a stranger to cyber relationships. Although, while I love spending my precious few minutes of "free time" looking at old friend's pictures, I find cyber-relating quite unsatisfying.

Okay, so since my last entry, I have also, alas, become an ex-jogger, thanks to a case of overly stretched, inflammed and out of position sacroiliac joints (aka sacroilitis). Apparently you shouldn't run during your pregnancy. So a message to any others out there who think it's fun to run a few miles a few days before delivering a baby - STOP (a new word in my darling 16 month old's blossoming vocabulary!)!!!! You may be left spending $65 a week at the physio and waddling like a duck (ah, why didn't I listen to my mother-in- law when she advised me to get MBA?).

Since running (and the kind of walking I did) is no longer an option, I have taken up swimming for exercise and biking for taxing Simon to the many parks, beaches, and playgrounds we frequent. Simon loved the bike for about a month. Then came Noosa's annual triathlon. I knew Simon would just LOVE watching his fellow bikers zipping past our house (conveniently located on the cycling route of the triathlon), so we were up at 6 am to watch them pass, chairs set up outside our house and pancakes on the griddle. Simon loved it and clapped and clapped and did his little sign language for "more". When he became a bit restless, we decided to bike alongside the racers so Simon could continue his front row coverage of the event. He loved that, too, especially when we blew on his favourite train whistle to cheer the competitors on.

Of course, being the person I am, watching the triathlon got me all excited, and so I decided we should enjoy the rest of our sunny Sunday avo with our own little bike ride. Almost two hours later (after discovering some amazing bike trails and getting lost a few times), Simon had had enough. Unfortunately, it was getting dark so we had to press on.... we'll just say Simon wasn't too happy. For the next two weeks whenever I'd walk towards our bike, he would start kicking and screaming, refusing to get on! But today, ah! He got on the bike again. We biked to the pool, had a little play and then biked around the neighborhood before heading home. I decided not to press my luck so I'm hoping that tomorrow might bring some more cycling fun.

1 comment:

Marge said...: and it will get better, Liz! I love your blogging attempts...keep it up! Mom; November 17, 2008 at 10:14 PM

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This is me, a faith observed.

C.S. Lewis writes about the pain of losing his beloved wife, Joy, in his book, "A Grief Observed". In some ways this is my attempt to share my journey through grief and back into life, as the past nine months have been characterized by an immeasurable longing for my beloved father, who died suddenly this past January.

After months of hibernation from the internet, I unexpectedly find myself able to re-begin this blog and connect with my larger community of family and friends. This blog will likely reflect less of the intensity and depth of my pain and more of the simplicity and ordinary joy that keeps my life full - namely days running after our little boy, Simon Pierre. But it is because of the incredible love and presence that defined my relationship with my father, that I feel I can will myself to not just survive each day but to pour that same kind of love and attention onto Simon.

My father was an endless source of strength to me, a pillar of faith. His last words, spoken to my mother as he passed into that which is unseen, "God is good - good all the time", have remained with me through this dark cloud of grief. And when God seems hidden, when justice seems to be losing out, when life is unfair, and when death swallows up the one I most love, I remember my father's words and breathe in this promise, that the God of love is in the process of restoring that which has been destroyed.

And as my father told me in dream I've had since his death, "Look to Jesus. As a father, to point you towards Him is the best gift I can give to you." So here I am, this is me, a faith to be observed.

I hold onto that which is not always seen- the promise of God's goodness, the hope that one day in the promised new heavens and earth- on a grassy hill or a sand covered beach- the lion and the lamb will lie down side by side and I, too, will lie down side by side, next to my father, and we will laugh and laugh until there are no more tears left to cry.