Last week, I dragged our treadmill out from its storage corner in the basement and I got on it. We’ve had it since 2013 and it was approximately the 20th time I’ve run on it. As I coaxed myself into running, I thought about how having something is not the same thing as using it.

“God if you want to show me that you care about the small things right now, help me find the shovel!”

Have you ever uttered a prayer that had only a little faith but a lot of desperation wondering if God sees, hears and cares? This was that kind of prayer. And yes, it was for shovel… sort of.

While my sister Ang was getting some much needed fresh air, 5-year-old Arie had informed her mom that her small snow shovel was still missing even after her big brother had helped with a lengthy search the day before. The recent dump of snow had buried everything left out in the yard, making the search very unfruitful.

Ang pushed through her weariness, marked out a perimeter and started the search with the girls.

It was the Tuesday before Christmas, and normally a missing shovel would be no big deal, but it wasn’t a normal Tuesday.

It was the Tuesday after the Sunday she was blindsided by a phone call delivering the news that her husband Jordan had tested positive for COVID-19.

At the beginning of this pandemic season, it seemed like we could just push pause on our lives and it would be over soon enough. But as we’ve all learned, perhaps the hard way, is that 9+ months is a long time to pause living. It’s too long to leave your life in a box on the shelf waiting for better weather.

Through the amaryllis, God has been teaching me this: good things can still grow in this season.

We always hear, “bloom where you’re planted,” but perhaps we’d be wiser to begin here: plant something where you are.

Because nothing can grow that hasn’t been planted.

I was at a loss. I had never felt so helpless in our marriage. Never before had my husband not be willing to hear me out. We did not agree, and we were still married which left us with a choice. Let the issue we felt divided over divide us, or find a way to stick together.

When I first started blogging, my dad had recently been diagnosed with ALS. The purpose of my writing was to keep people informed on his prognosis and it ended up being a combination of his progress and the lessons God was teaching me along the way. When people stopped by, they’d often mention something to him about the blog. Finally one day, he pulled me aside, and on his letter board spelled, “What’s a blog?” I had to laugh before explaining what I was doing. I told him I was writing to keep people up to date and about lessons God was teaching me along the way. He shook his head and next spelled, “Write only the truth.” He never wanted the spotlight on Him, only God. 

I wouldn't try it. Those root balls can weigh up to 2000 pounds.

This was the advice of the tree expert at the local garden centre last weekend when we asked if we could move and plant the tree ourselves. He strongly recommended delivery and professional planting for the size we were looking at but he shrugged and said, you can always try.