Exploring Boston: Anticipation and Miracles on the Road

Greetings from Boston Massachusetts! The youngest son and I are on a spur- of- the- moment trip. Why Boston? Simply because it was a place on the map we could drive to in a day. So, here we are. It’s the most I have ever driven by myself. And getting here was a challenge. We decided to take a route through Vermont. Which was fine, except it was a very straight run through simple trees and the end of our trip was dark — therefore a long, boring, drive. No gas stations, no street lights, no tourist spots along the way… simply dark figures of trees and the road ahead. Barely even another car, because who decides to go through Vermont enroute to Boston in the middle of late fall ? Us crazy Canadians, I guess.

Needless to say, we drove the last few hours straight with a vengeance. We were on a mission to get there. To make matters worse, my phone battery was dangerously low and for fear of our GPS (and only navigation) source dying, the kid was taking screen shots of directions to get us there. Finally, our hotel was in sight… we were safe and had arrived! Then, we were starving and needed to find food (but that’s a different story).

One of the biggest lessons we can draw from our road trip thus far, has been the anticipation. As I said, we planned this little getaway with no real agenda other than the trip itself. Let’s just go! It’ll be fun! How does that thought link to our third lesson of this little advent study we’re in the middle of? Well, we are focusing on Mary and the miracle of her virgin birth and all that surrounds that subject. Obviously, from ancient texts, we can see that the world has been waiting… anticipating… for the final arrival of the Messiah, One who would save the world. We were on a mission to get to the end … and the world was waiting too!

Now, let’s talk about all that surrounded Mary’s story. A virgin birth. A visit from an angel. Lots of out of the ordinary stuff happening to poor Mary… exciting but crazy things! Our lesson points out some interesting facts about Luke’s account of the baby Jesus’ birth as recorded in the Bible:

  • Luke was an expert historian; he would have secured his sources and fact checked; this means he would not likely “make up” points just to be sensational in his writing; Mary’s virginity would be fact
  • Mary’s story also checks out with earlier accounts from prophets like Isaiah; the Bible is consistent
  • Many Greco-Roman legends of the time paint different pictures of their “immortal god births”, often citing gods having relations with mortals resulting in miraculous births… Luke’s account isn’t anything like this, and sticks to the facts
  • speaking of facts… most readers would ummm, understand the “facts” and not play stupid; in other words, because Mary was a virgin, Jesus’ birth is all that more miraculous. If she wasn’t, we could explain it away; We can also say that the ancient people of the time understood where babies came from… so His miraculous birth was just that: supernatural and special

Furthermore, I’m humbled to know that the mighty messengers who came to visit Mary way back then, were looking out for us on our journey as well. I am sure that angels were on the roads protecting us from snow and sleet and my lack of navigational skills. My phone wasn’t miraculously charged, but I have no doubt that God kept us safe on the roads, because lemme tell ya, traffic in Boston is awful! Narrow roads and one way streets with bridges and interstates with crazy on and off ramps. God led Mary and Joseph through miraculous parenthood adventures, and he led the kid and I on some crazy escapades as well!

Just think about all of Mary’s crazy adventures! Image from The Nativity Story

Perhaps I am drawing too much of a comparison between our road trip and Mary’s miracle. Still, it is valid to muse about the well familiar virgin birth story and all the anticipation of Christmas. Perhaps, should you travel this holiday, you’ll think of us and our long road through Vermont and be reminded that the same God who was with Mary, is with you, too, as He was with us on the roads in Boston. He still cares. He is still protecting us. He still has a plan for us. I hope this little post has brought you a little closer to knowing Him this season, and recognizing His presence, even on the dark roads of Vermont !

Antiques and Adventures: A Moment in Time

Whew! Another week has flown by! Yet time is like that, isn’t it? Especially when you get older and you’re moving “downhill”, shall we say. My current update is the same as last weeks: pallets are still on the driveway, coop still needs cleaning, and we have one out of two porch rocking chairs stained. The status of these projects hasn’t changed much in seven days. We did get a few things in the barn and tidied up before the snow flies, but the leaves are still falling. It’s actually quite sunny out today and I’m not really thinking about snow at all yet. It will be here soon enough, though.

Let’s get back to fall, though, shall we? I had a beautiful fall drive the other day through the countryside to pick up our little grand baby. He’s getting so big now… will be a year in a couple months. There’s time flying again. Really flying when you think of all the milestones a little one goes through in a year. From helpless newborn to walking, talking toddler, to helpless teenager again. Did I say that out loud? Ooops. Nevermind. I suppose we can say that time certainly doesn’t stop for anyone on this journey through our earth exsistance.

Anyway… back to my fall drive. The colours were fabulous. Golden hues mixed with brown undertones, a clear, blue sky and a winding road through little rural towns decorated with orange pumpkins and the odd farm stand of weathered wood and hand drawn signs. Post card perfect. Even for the end of the season. Once car seats were switched and snacks were handed out, I headed off home again. Grand baby and I stopped at an antique shop on the way, just to break up the journey. I was a little nervous taking a baby through a narrow aisled shoppe filled with old glass jars and pottery, especially one in an old dairy barn with a cracked (and slanted) floor. He’s a little angel though, and happily ate his cheese bagel in the stroller as I dodged in and out of the booths checking price tags.

Antiques are a funny thing. I don’t claim to be an “antique-r” but I love to look. Why do we pay so much for something so old? I’m a sucker for mason jars, and have a large collection. Still, I stop and look at the price of every jar filled with marbles. I have no idea why. I also wander through such places and think, “if I put that old window frame up on my wall, it is certainly gonnna look weird and not at all like that one in the magazine”. I even have the old century farmhouse now where such things are expected… but my decorating skills are not anywhere near the magazine people. And so I wander through antique barns checking price tags like I know what I am doing.

At the very last booth, however, I did discover two little ceramic birds. I have been craving these for some time now. They aren’t even antiques, likely. I’ve seen similar in those potpourri gift shoppe places. The price tag always deters me. These birdies, however, had a price tag on the bottom of $5.00! So, I hummed and hawed for a second, do I need them? They are a good price, so I wandered off with them to the counter.

My new little “vintage” birdies

I chit chatted with the guy about the weather, these little birds, and how I had been looking for a pair, and how cute grand baby was with cheese bagel stuffed face. He tells me they were $5.56 total. I originally thought they were $5 EACH. So, I am very sorry, nice antique guy, but I didn’t say a single thing, nor question your final price, except that we still had a bit left over for coffee … and I bubbled inside that I now had a great deal (It was mixed with a little guilt I didn’t question him, I’ll admit it! But that’s on the store owner right? The price tags were clearly labelled…)

I suppose at this point, I should muse about being honest. Perhaps speaking truth. Perhaps how our glorious Creator gives us the fall season to rejoice in. Okay, I’ve mentioned all of those things. Yet my thinking originally lead me to “time” for this post. An antique store certainly makes you question time. You literally look at pieces of history from a time past: glass mason jars for canning or marble collections. Movie posters and antique record albums. Rusty farm tools. Real wood furniture, pottery crocks, milk crates and bottles. Baskets, fur coats and license plates. Pieces in time.

My little birds are perhaps “vintage” but likely not real antique. I don’t think they serve any purpose besides sitting on a shelf to make me smile. Still, they will remind me of when a bagel eating grand baby was with me, and how he’s growing so fast. How warm the sun was on that day, and how I need to get going on those porch chairs. How God gives us limited time. Yet, for every waking minute and second of that time, He watches over us, as He does the tiny sparrow. And only He knows when our time is up. When His plan for us is complete and time will move forward with others stepping up to the plate.

Do you love an antique shop, my friend? Or do you love a modern coffee shop and bagel? Either way, it’s an outing with a friend. Or a grand baby. Or a spouse. Or a parent. This week, I’m reminded that time is special. Preserve and cherish it. For not unlike the price tags of antiques, the cost is usually high, but if you get a deal, don’t say too much: Just enjoy it.

Transforming Pallets: An Independent Woman’s DIY Adventure

Don’t fear, my beloveds! I’m baaaack! I guess I have been on a little sabbatical. Well, at least I haven’t been posting. Not to worry, I’m back. I have no excuses for not writing, really. There’s been no crisis, just laziness on my part. There’s been stuff happening and lots of content, it just didn’t get put out here on the internet. But… it’s Tuesday, and here I am. So let’s get into it shall we?

Wanna hear about my latest project? I’m afraid I have grandiose ideas way too often, but little results. My mother used to say I had champagne ideas but beer budget. Very true. Otherwise, I’d be stinking rich by now, right? Anyway, I went down the rabbit hole of Youtube and Facebook marketplace and ended up with about 25 pallets sitting on my driveway. And pallets are free. (Beer budget, remember?) The first batch the hubby picked up. I miss our van. The SUV just doesn’t have the capacity to fill my grandiose ideas.

The latest project…

The second batch, however, I picked up all on my own from a local guy. A story in itself. The older folk were about 10km or so away. He’d worked for a plant and had several pallets stored in his backyard, but they were getting ready to move and needed to downsize. His yard fueled my fire. A cute picket fence and a rustic looking tool shed all built by pallets. He was quite helpful and pulled the collection out onto the front yard. First challenge: backing up into his narrow driveway without going into the ditches on either side and making a fool of myself. We loaded the first batch. I can fit about 5 or so full size pallets in the trunk with the back seats down. However, my gas tank is now on low fuel. I’ll be back, but I must get gas… about 45 minutes round trip.

Several minutes later, and a full tank of gas, I was maneuvering my way back down the narrow drive. Load two. I’m hauling pallets now! Load three is now securely in my SUV, a hand shake and a wave, and I’m off with a trunk full of dreams and done my good deed by helping an elderly couple clean up their yard. One splinter later, I was musing at my day.

I’d like to think I am pretty independent. The hubby was away and I arranged all of this by myself. Strong, independent woman who can haul wood, pump her own gas and wield a hammer! Truth be told, I do get a little anxious… deals are not always safe for a single woman hauling pallets from a back alley. And in light of today’s world, I in no means want to get into gender roles, violence against women, risks of being in public spaces or any other hot topics so present in our lives right now. Yet, it did have me thinking.

I’m saddened that my grandchildren will have to go on public transit with eyes in the back of their heads. They’ll have to go to school subjected to rules put in place simply to keep them safe. Not only safe, but alive! Forget the backyard scraps, there will be cyber bullying, anxiety meds, reconciliation circles, mass shootings, bombings, and the list goes on. How was it that in Noah’s day the world was so evil that God decided even He couldn’t stand it, and wiped it out in a mass flood? Can you imagine? A world so evil, only one lone family was worth saving. Pretty surreal.

We need to pray for our cities, our countries, our world. We need to pray for the next generation. We need to love on others so hard that they can’t help but see Jesus in our hearts. And it’s not easy. There are some very unlovable people out there. Confused, hurting, misguided, unlovable people who fight back. I want to see us get back to where every Facebook Marketplace meeting ends with a handshake and a “thanks”.

About a quarter of the way through… and still working on making the world a better place!

As to the pallets? Well, like most of my projects, we’re about half way through them. (Have you ever dismantled a pallet? It’s hard work!) It has required a strong hand of the middle kid to assist in prying rusty nails from aged boards. Yet, perhaps that’s the point. Intergenerational work required to get the job done. I guess I can say I am doing my part. What have you been doing to deal with our sad world these days? One trunk load at a time, I guess. And a few prayers along the way. See you soon, friends.