No official post today but here are a few things that will hopefully be coming your way in the new year:
Welcome back, my beloveds! You’ll forgive me for missing last week… it was a crazy time and I just couldn’t get there. Or here. Or wherever, whatever. I’m back now. We had a few first world crises which made my momma’s heart heavy and the words didn’t want to translate on the page. This week, however, that heavy heart reminded me of a story about when we first moved in to “Itsnotta” farm. So, let’s have a go, shall we?
It was mid summer and I was excited about the new property and all its potential. We may have been here about six weeks or so. The previous owner had finished the back patio as part of our final agreements, and it lacked a little lustre. The property has a big front garden and I knew I didn’t want to get in over my head just yet with a bunch of new planting in the middle of summer, but I had splurged on a couple of chicks and hens and needed a spot to put them. So I dug out a little diagonal spot next to the patio, adjacent to the back porch. We had been finding a lot of little toads hanging out back there and in the spring of this year, the youngest and I are going to make a “toad abode” so they don’t end up in our window well. (Have you ever had to rescue a toad? … they are cute but not so fun to handle).
It’s a tiny spot of garden so I am not super invested – but decided it needed a rock. Now imagine with me our new property, a tiny garden spot and us city slickers with little cash and next to nothing in the way of large garden tools. We didn’t even have a wheelbarrow at that time. We did, however, have a large boulder with pretty red streaks of some mineral running through it, roundish and seemingly the perfect shape to put next to a toad house and some succulents. Only issue — it was on the other side of the pool, on the opposite side of the farm field from said tiny garden plot.
No problem. I am country woman now. I can do it. So, as my hubby and fully capable children sunned themselves in the newly discovered pool, I hauled that 60-70 pound rock! I had to toss it several times like a wanna be lumber jack learning log toss to avoid dropping it on my bare feet, but it made it through my “rests”. I plunked it down on a patch of dirt where it currently sits awaiting spring and the emerging toad friends.
Why do I tell you this? The memory came to me as I was fretting over the hard weekend last week. It seems appropriate that this, the first week of Advent, was the Sunday we light the Hope candle. I needed the reminder that life is hard sometimes. Even so, there is Hope. We struggle and push through with determination – often because we are stuck between a “rock and a hard place”. God gives us challenges to help us grow. Not that that thought makes it any easier. Rocks (and our burdens) are heavy. Sometimes we have a vision in mind of the final picturesque garden with spring flowers and where warty toads have their own spaces and don’t get in your way. Yet, the rock is there to remind us, that yes, we can do hard things. The rock provides our shade for growth. Our security and stability to plant roots deep and protected.
Overcoming challenges provides us with a reminder of the Hope Christ gives us. We anticipate it and push through the hard stuff because we have it. Given to us in a little baby whose birth we celebrate at Christmas. Still, Christmas brings its own set of “hard things” for many of us. Memories can be both joyful and sad… sometimes at the same time. Here’s praying you see and feel the Hope more than the heartache this season. I am looking forward to digging through the old decorations – and adding more this year as we decorate our country porch and the barn. Maybe I should stick a poinsettia out next to my garden rock and bring a little pretty to the hard stuff. A decoration for the sleeping toads.
…I will show mercy and compassion to anyone I choose… stand near Me on this rock. As my glorious presence passes by, I will hide you in the crevice of the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by…”
adapted from Exodus 33
Hello again my beloveds! In addition to witnessing both a spectacular sunrise and delightful sunset (on the same day even!) this week, we had the unique experience of seeing the behind the scenes workings of our local thrift store. Now — ya’ll know I love a good thrift store find — so I was more than happy to sacrifice my one and only sleep in day to volunteer at our local thrift store.
The hubby and I have been looking for ways to get involved in our community and “get connected” since we moved, so when we heard our new church had made a connection with the Mission Thrift Store in town, the hubby declared: “Oh no… thrift store?! I guess we are going on Saturday morning?” He knows me well. Being the new kids on the block, we arrived at the front door to the store (of course, I knew where it was!) locked and sealed. As I chased the hubby around the back, trying to keep up with his faster-than-most-normal-people pace. We were greeted by two other volunteers from our local church and a host of others ready for the shift.
This particular location is quite large, occupying about three storefronts with numerous donations arriving in a steady stream of boxes and black garbage bags. We learned that donations are becoming harder and harder to sort out. The stores have to be very particular. Few electronics, safety checks, non smoker donations only, dirty or soiled or too much of a good thing isn’t accepted at the door. Once inside, the goods are piled high in bins, bags, shelving units, boxes, racks and whatever other nook and cranny you can find. The goods were everywhere!
The hubby’s muscles were put to work in sorting drop offs, and I went to clothing (which was a good thing because housewares are a weakness!). Clothes are sorted and re-sorted for quality control, sizing, pricing and whether or not the item is seasonal. Nothing is wasted, but not all your donations can be used. Our consumer society has made an abundance of “waste” and I am reminded again of how much “stuff” we really have. Even with the bulk of thrift stores and donation centres we have around us, there simply is too much stuff — and so the staff have to be picky. Many textiles are sent off to be recycled, which I suppose is still better than ending up in the landfill, but it did make me think about what I put in my own donation boxes.
If you look up the Mission Thrift store website, you’ll discover that most of its stores are volunteer driven. We met several on Saturday, including a young man doing his community hours and a few grey haired ladies filling in their free time meeting and greeting. Apparently, there is one lady whose sole job was washing dishes. I hope my hubby didn’t add to her duties, because I discovered him chit-chatting in the break room on more than one tour through! Think of her, next time you see that shining display of teacups on the shelf!!
Our time there was all too short, but I wanted to give you a little spotlight on this Canadian company and its roots. Unlike similar thrift stores, Mission thrift is not for profit. According to their website:
“100% of Mission Thrift’s net proceeds go to support the joint ministries of BFM Foundation Canada and Bible League Canada. The funds are used to support our local community and provide programs that encourage literacy, empower women and provide a safe place for children to learn and grow.”
missionthriftstore.com
And so my muse this week has my mind muddled with contradictions… on one hand I am reminded of how much we are blessed. The hoarded back rooms gave me an all too clear reality check of things. Things we don’t need, things we crave and fall out of fashion or style and then are no longer worthy of our keeping. Having said that, we went home with several items we snatched up before they even hit the shelves. Are we hypocrites or good and frugal thrifters? The other thought is volunteering. Do we do it enough? We were told the store is struggling to find people (especially of the next generation) who are willing to give of their time. Have we not been called to serve? Are we too busy? Have we taught our children the benefits of working without pay? Much to contemplate.
I am considering going back — to help, I mean. Since I have been granted this season of unemployment since moving, I seem to have time on my hands at the moment. There are only so many boxes one can organize at home. Perhaps I can sort somebody else’s junk for a change. Even if I don’t get a chance to volunteer, my money will support their charity for sure! Even if it is just to appreciate some super clean tea cups lovingly washed by hand.
mittonmusings 