Friday, 16 September 2016

Welcome Kenneth


On Sunday afternoon we welcomed Kenneth Benn Winger into the big wide world!  He made a fairly dramatic entrance, with a pretty slow early labour and then a very quick active labour.  We were at the hospital when he was born, but didn't have a room yet!  We were both doing so well afterward that we were allowed to go home that night.  I've had a lot of help this week, which has been great and has given me a chance to rest and recover as much as I can.  Big brother Steven loves holding "baby" and keeps trying to share his toys and snacks with him.  I love our growing family!


Friday, 9 September 2016

20 Months

Well, we're still waiting for baby Winger to make an appearance, but Steven is 20 months old now so I figured it's about time for some more pictures!  Steven continues to develop his jumping, throwing, kicking, and climbing skills, and now he likes to go down slides all by himself.  If he wants you to go somewhere with him, he'll grab your hand and tug it while saying "beep beep".  He gives kisses, says "night night", and clicks his tongue to ask for music.  My favourite thing that he has learned to say is "eee doh", which means "here you go" when he gives you something.  I am so excited to see what he is like as a big brother.  Any day now!

Ready to go to church

Helping Daddy build our new shed

On the merry-go-round at the fair

Playing in the mud (aka helping Mommy garden)

Family hiking time

Saying hi to baby

Tuesday, 6 September 2016

What We're Missing

We're missing something.

We live in a culture of affluence and plenty, where the vast majority of us have all we could need and more.  We have conveniences of every kind, entertainment at our fingertips, and food from around the world.  But something is missing.  Something big.  We can see evidence of it all around us.  Even though we think we have everything we need, we feel empty.  We feel lonely, vulnerable, and afraid.  Depression and anxiety have spread like an epidemic.  Whatever it is that we're missing, it must huge!

I think I know what it is.

We're missing connection.  A place to belong, where we are accepted, loved, and cared for.  We're missing a village.

This lack of "village" in our culture is a relatively new phenomenon.  Most cultures throughout history have been village-based, where people live in small communities of families who live, work, and play together.  And as they gathered together, they could talk about their lives and their struggles.  They could get advice, encouragement, and practical help.

Our culture has lost that.  We live within our four little walls, often not even knowing our neighbours. Each family unit is expected to take care of their own needs and to operate independently of everyone else.  But we weren't made to function like that.  We desperately need connection - with God, nature, and other people.

The village gives each person value and a purpose.  There are many people who fall through the cracks of our society.  For example, the elderly people who often spend the final years of their life tucked out of sight in seniors' homes.  For many, that can be a lonely, isolating experience.  But in the village, the elderly had a role.  They cared for the young, watching the children, sharing from their years of experience, and in return they were cared for by the younger generation. 

Now I know that our lives are not completely devoid of human connection.  In fact, some people do have a thriving community around them.  However, that is not the "normal" or the default of our culture.  Many of us feel very, very lonely.  Even though we have "friends", most of the time they are too preoccupied with their own busy life to be there when we really need them.  Knowing people and interacting with people is not the same thing as having a village.

This lack of community affects all of us, at every stage of life.  For me, right now, it is the most obvious to see how it affects young mothers like myself.  My days overflow with the tasks of childcare and homecare.  I often find myself on the verge of tears as I try to clean up a mess on the floor, follow along with whatever game my toddler is insisting that I play with him, get the laundry hung up so we have clothes to wear the next day, and try to make a healthy, timely supper, all at the same time.  I know that there are people out there who care about me and that even might be willing to help if I asked, but most of the time I am too busy and overwhelmed to even look for help.  I need a village, but the task of finding one or making one just adds to my already overwhelming list of things to do.

In the absence of the village, it is the family that has to pick up the slack.  Now family can be and should be an amazing place of support and belonging, but it can't stand the pressure of being our only place of support.  My husband does everything he can to support me, but when he gets home from a long day of work he is very tired.  Sometimes he is able to play with Steven, help with the dishes, or listen to how my day was, but sometimes he can't.  And often I am too tired to provide the support that I know he needs from me.  Having a larger community in our life would help relieve some of that pressure.  Extended family can help, and indeed family has always been an important part of the village, but in our mobile society we often don't live near our families.  Personally, we don't live near either my family or Jesse's family.  They do what they can to support and help us, but the distance makes it challenging.

God's desire for us is that we have a village.  He has even provided one - we call it the Church.  If you think about it, everything that we long for from a village is a part of what the church is supposed to be: a community of people where you can belong and find help and encouragement.  Sadly, the church is often not like that.  Even in churches that seem healthy and open and friendly, something is often missing.  Just like in the rest of society, people are too caught up in their own busy lives.  They smile and shake your hand at church, but then rush home to their jobs and meetings and family dinners.  Church is just one of the things on their to do list, not a real community with all of its messiness, beauty, and commitment to each other.

When we don't have a village, we are left to create one on our own.  And we try.  It's something that is very important to Jesse and me.  We know all too well that we can't manage on our own.  That's a big part of why we like having people living with us, and why we're always inviting people into our home.  But we've found that all too often people are just too busy.  It gets discouraging to keep asking and keep trying.

And I don't think we're the only ones who feel like this.

So what do we do?  I think the best place to start is to be honest - to admit that we can't manage on our own, that we need the help and support of a community around us.  This really goes against the grain of our culture that smiles and says "I'm fine".  It's hard to ask for help.  And asking people to be a part of your life is a very vulnerable thing to do.  They might reject you, or take help and support from you without offering any in return.  But it is vitally important that we take that risk.  Jesse and I are slowly finding a group of people who genuinely want to be a part of our life.  It is a long, slow process, and many of those people have been called to live in other parts of the world and we don't get to see them much.

That's what we are doing.  But just like we can't live alone, we can't build community alone.  It is a task for all of us.  We don't have to accept individualism and isolation as an unavoidable reality.  We can reach out to others and welcome them into our lives.  And if you are one of those people who are blessed with a strong community around you, please open up your eyes.  There are hurting, lonely people all around you who are longing for a place to belong.  Open your hearts and homes.  Together, let's change the "normal".  There is no greater calling than sharing our life and love in the messy beauty of community.

Friday, 2 September 2016

Weakness

Weakness.

It's not something that we like very much. 

We forgive its existence in things that are cute and little, like kittens and babies, but for the most part we look on weakness with a mix of condescension and pity.  Most of all, we can't stand weakness in ourselves.

And it's not surprising.  Everywhere around us it is strength that is praised.  The people who can run the fastest and jump the farthest receive medals and fame.  Those who keep their chin up when life gets tough are inspirational.  The message is clear - don't falter, don't cry, and don't ever ask for help.

Even within the church, strength is placed on a pedestal.  We look up to those great saints who faced impossible odds, who were unshakable in their faith, who faced suffering and persecution with joy and hope.  We aspire to be like them.  We want to be strong in our faith.

I'm weak.

That isn't something that I want as a part of my self-concept.  For most of my life, I would have labeled myself more as "competent", "resourceful", and "talented"... not "weak".  But lately I haven't been able to ignore my weakness.  Most of the summer I've been barely surviving.  My daily tasks were overwhelming, and I felt increasingly exhausted, depressed, and alone.

I don't like feeling weak.

But a couple of days ago I read something that really encouraged me.  I've been sporadically meandering my way through the devotional Jesus Calling by Sarah Young, and the entry for the last day of August was about weakness.  The author writes that God has gifted some with abundant strength, and gifted some with weakness.  Now, weakness isn't exactly the sort of gift that I'd add to my Christmas list, but I was challenged to look at it in a different way, looking for the blessings that come with weakness, rather than the challenges.

Weakness makes me rely on God.  It keeps me aware of my need for him and his presence in each day.  When I'm feeling strong and capable, it's so easy to breeze through my day, doing things my way, without a second thought.  Weakness keeps me coming back to God, asking for his help, and trying to follow his priorities for the day.

Weakness also makes me rely on others.  We are not meant to go through life on our own, but nothing makes that more obvious to me than when I feel weak.  It is because of other people helping me that I made it through this summer.  And it's because of others that I am coping with life right now.  Last week Steven and I both came down with colds.  Trying to care for a sick toddler, while being sick myself, on top of being 39 weeks pregnant and already not coping with life... let's just say it was a recipe for disaster.  But I'm not alone.  I've had so much help this week (especially from my mom and Maria - thank you!) that I am actually feeling more alive than I have in a long time.  When I wake up in the mornings I'm not feeling exhausted, and I actually have a desire to do things and care about things again.

It is hard, and very humbling, to have to ask for help.  We have to fight through the lies that tell us that being weak is bad, that feeling weak means that we are failing.  My friends, it's not true.  Weakness is not failure.  Weakness is a part of being human.  And weakness can lead us to what we need most in life - dependence on our God who loves us, and his presence through the people who are there for us when we need them.