I'm struggling right now with my business - it's just tax preparation, so how much emotion could be involved in that? Lots, I am finding out. From the 52 year old divorced trucker to the lady who has just started a framing business, I find myself thinking about them far too often. I want them to think highly of me, so I put in so much extra effort to give them great service. But at what cost? I can't sleep, I'm always trying to think of ways to help them, and I feel guilty handing them a bill. Sometimes I feel like I should be doing a lot of this out of the goodness of my heart, but then I have to remind myself that I need to pay my mortgage and keep food on the table. Then I think that if they just would have called someone else, they probably would have received the same product (although not necessarily the same great service!) for a far lesser price. How crazy is that?
In a way I envy my former co-workers who could rattle through tax returns and couldn't care less about their clients (and often had never even met them!). But, I guess that's not me - I'm just going to have to deal with the fact that I care about everyone who crosses my path.
This is going to be a long two months!
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Ego
Sometimes I wonder why our Creator made us to be self-centred and egotistic. It is so frustrating sometimes!! In a way, it makes us strive for the top and try to be the best we can, but on the way to the top it's so easy to forget the important things. I'm sure my 80 year old self would travel back and time and say things like, "Jo, it didn't matter at all whether you were the best at this or had the most of that, but what did matter is that the kids turned out okay and you fulfilled your given purpose, and the legacy will live on forever."
But still, I get a little twinge of jealousy when I hear about the other accountants in town getting clients, thinking, "Those should be my clients, I'm a CA after all, blah blah blah." Why can't I silence that little voice in my head? Maybe 15 years of hanging around with power hungry, bottom line oriented people has helped that little voice along, but it's still my responsibility to silence it.
And so my fervent prayer today is to get rid of that little voice and concentrate on my Purpose (which I'm still not sure what it is!). I have prayed for some revelation these past few nights, but instead had dreams about vampires and heavy metal bands....not too much revelation there! I've been enjoying the blue sky a little more, however, knowing that one day from that sky will come the answer.....one day.......
But still, I get a little twinge of jealousy when I hear about the other accountants in town getting clients, thinking, "Those should be my clients, I'm a CA after all, blah blah blah." Why can't I silence that little voice in my head? Maybe 15 years of hanging around with power hungry, bottom line oriented people has helped that little voice along, but it's still my responsibility to silence it.
And so my fervent prayer today is to get rid of that little voice and concentrate on my Purpose (which I'm still not sure what it is!). I have prayed for some revelation these past few nights, but instead had dreams about vampires and heavy metal bands....not too much revelation there! I've been enjoying the blue sky a little more, however, knowing that one day from that sky will come the answer.....one day.......
Saturday, February 27, 2010
They're Okay
I had a friend in junior high named Jeanette - we also played soccer together in elementary school. Sadly, Jeanette was one of those kids who would get very angry if you pushed the wrong buttons, and we were mean to her in grade 4 - so mean that I still feel guilty about it today. But, in junior high we were friends, even though she wasn't one of the "cool kids" (but hey, neither was I!), and then she went off to a different high school. She had a very rough childhood, losing her mom in a car accident, her dad to a heart attack, and then finally, her brother. I could hardly believe it when, in the summer of 2006, I picked up the local newspaper and found that my old friend had died in a car accident on one of the highways around Devon. I went to her funeral out of a sense of obligation, even though I hadn't seen her in 20 years, but I wanted to give my respects to her, and through her funeral saw that she had lived a happy life, had three kids, and had been living only minutes away from me and I never knew.
Elizabeth was invited to a birthday party by a new kid in her class - his name is Talon and he's a funny little kid. Parents were invited to the party as well, and I thought it would be nice to meet Talon's parents - it seems that the more people you know in a small town, the better.
So I took Elizabeth over and was invited in warmly by Robert, and when I met him I had a flash of familiarity, but not unlike when I see a lot of people around town. After all, it's a small town. A young girl was bringing out a pinata for the kids to play with, very pretty, around 14 years old, and as I watched them, I had a sudden realization: I was watching Jeannette's daughter holding the pinata and Robert was Jeanette's widowed husband. The realization was so overwhelming for a moment that I could hardly contain my emotions. I had thought about Jeanette's family for three years and wondered how they were, and now I could see - they were doing very well.
Robert appeared happy, hosting this party for his girlfriend's son, and Shelby was a beautiful young lady - spitting image of her mom, but so different in personality. She was outgoing and chatty, and so good with all the little kids running around.
In an episode of Star Trek, Mr. Spock comments on how time is like water, with ebbs and flows and waves, and that the currents of time eventually take us all to where we are supposed to be. I suppose it was only a matter of time before I crossed paths with this family, but I had never thought it would be in such an unexpected way. I stayed just long enough to see Jeannette's two sons drive up in a beat up red van, but they looked good as well - young teenagers, laughing at the little kids.
I don't know why everything happened as it did today, but lately a lot have things have been happening that make me question His Devine Intervention. We need to realize more how God is in control of the ebbs and flows of time, and all things come around to serve His purposes.
If we can just stop long enough to listen, all things can be revealed, but we have to stop, and that is the challenge.
Elizabeth was invited to a birthday party by a new kid in her class - his name is Talon and he's a funny little kid. Parents were invited to the party as well, and I thought it would be nice to meet Talon's parents - it seems that the more people you know in a small town, the better.
So I took Elizabeth over and was invited in warmly by Robert, and when I met him I had a flash of familiarity, but not unlike when I see a lot of people around town. After all, it's a small town. A young girl was bringing out a pinata for the kids to play with, very pretty, around 14 years old, and as I watched them, I had a sudden realization: I was watching Jeannette's daughter holding the pinata and Robert was Jeanette's widowed husband. The realization was so overwhelming for a moment that I could hardly contain my emotions. I had thought about Jeanette's family for three years and wondered how they were, and now I could see - they were doing very well.
Robert appeared happy, hosting this party for his girlfriend's son, and Shelby was a beautiful young lady - spitting image of her mom, but so different in personality. She was outgoing and chatty, and so good with all the little kids running around.
In an episode of Star Trek, Mr. Spock comments on how time is like water, with ebbs and flows and waves, and that the currents of time eventually take us all to where we are supposed to be. I suppose it was only a matter of time before I crossed paths with this family, but I had never thought it would be in such an unexpected way. I stayed just long enough to see Jeannette's two sons drive up in a beat up red van, but they looked good as well - young teenagers, laughing at the little kids.
I don't know why everything happened as it did today, but lately a lot have things have been happening that make me question His Devine Intervention. We need to realize more how God is in control of the ebbs and flows of time, and all things come around to serve His purposes.
If we can just stop long enough to listen, all things can be revealed, but we have to stop, and that is the challenge.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Missing
Back in the late 80s and early 90s there was an ice dancing team from Canada who skated for France. They were a brother and sister team known as the Dushesnays. I remember seeing them for the first time and felt a sense of magic in their skating, and when they skating their program in the 1990 world championships, I cried. It was called "Missing" and it was about oppression and crimes against humanity, at a time when human beings were going missing and never heard from again.
I pulled it up on Youtube today and watched it, evoking memories from 20 years ago, and again I cried. But this time it wasn't so much for the routine, which was still breathtakingly spectacular. I cried again for the memories I have from that time, since I taped the program at my grandparents' house (on VHS!) and watched it over and over. After watching that performance, my teenaged self chatted with my grandma, played a bit of crib with grandpa, with the world ahead of me, on the cusp of graduation and University looming in the fall.
Fast forward 20 years and it's so hard to visit the grandparents now. Grandpa just seems so tired, and the only conversation that can be had with grandma is about the weather. It's painful in a way, painful to think of the days when I could discuss the future, and how University was going, and what I was planning to do with my life. Now I've lost my friend and confidant, even though the body is still there, but the best conversations now are about the long ago past, long before I was born. It's the only time now when grandma seems like her old self - when she's talking about her childhood memories or about her two sisters, long gone from this world. What a cruel irony - that memories from 75 years ago are held intact, but memories from the last few years are gone.
It's stuff like this that makes me ponder the meaning of life and what our purpose really is. What kind of legacy are we meant to leave during this temporary moment in time? I find myself gravitating towards the senior members of our communities, trying to figure out what makes them content, and how they remain stoic and true while the world around us continues to crumble. Time marches on and the memories are sometimes all that are left, but what are we going to do with this time? I feel like I am standing on the edge of a cliff, and if I would just jump forward, there is purpose and meaning waiting for me that I could never have dreamed of. The tough part is not knowing what the future holds.
But if I could go back in time and sit beside myself in the family room, watching the Dushesnays carve out a masterpiece on ice, I would tell myself to cherish every moment in that house and with family. Another twenty years are going to pass in the blink of an eye, and I want my 57 year old self to be proud of the last 20 years, having missed nothing.
I pulled it up on Youtube today and watched it, evoking memories from 20 years ago, and again I cried. But this time it wasn't so much for the routine, which was still breathtakingly spectacular. I cried again for the memories I have from that time, since I taped the program at my grandparents' house (on VHS!) and watched it over and over. After watching that performance, my teenaged self chatted with my grandma, played a bit of crib with grandpa, with the world ahead of me, on the cusp of graduation and University looming in the fall.
Fast forward 20 years and it's so hard to visit the grandparents now. Grandpa just seems so tired, and the only conversation that can be had with grandma is about the weather. It's painful in a way, painful to think of the days when I could discuss the future, and how University was going, and what I was planning to do with my life. Now I've lost my friend and confidant, even though the body is still there, but the best conversations now are about the long ago past, long before I was born. It's the only time now when grandma seems like her old self - when she's talking about her childhood memories or about her two sisters, long gone from this world. What a cruel irony - that memories from 75 years ago are held intact, but memories from the last few years are gone.
It's stuff like this that makes me ponder the meaning of life and what our purpose really is. What kind of legacy are we meant to leave during this temporary moment in time? I find myself gravitating towards the senior members of our communities, trying to figure out what makes them content, and how they remain stoic and true while the world around us continues to crumble. Time marches on and the memories are sometimes all that are left, but what are we going to do with this time? I feel like I am standing on the edge of a cliff, and if I would just jump forward, there is purpose and meaning waiting for me that I could never have dreamed of. The tough part is not knowing what the future holds.
But if I could go back in time and sit beside myself in the family room, watching the Dushesnays carve out a masterpiece on ice, I would tell myself to cherish every moment in that house and with family. Another twenty years are going to pass in the blink of an eye, and I want my 57 year old self to be proud of the last 20 years, having missed nothing.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Pride
Why does it seem we let pride get in the way of the things that are truly important? Take a career, for example. We all know that work is work and shouldn't be the centre of our lives, but why does it sneak in and try to convince us that it IS all that important, and we're crazy to not want more money, power and prestige? Why does it have to be a fight? Logically, I know that this is all meaningless in the grand scheme of things, but why do I feel a little bit of glee when a new client calls, and I can pridefully think "They want ME - they think that I'm good enough to take care of their business!"
Shouldn't I instead be revelling in the Love of a Saviour, and think, "He's loves ME, and He thinks that I'm good enough to live with him for all eternity!". And then everything else would take a backseat, and it would all become ancillary to The Truth.
Why does it have to be such a battle?
Shouldn't I instead be revelling in the Love of a Saviour, and think, "He's loves ME, and He thinks that I'm good enough to live with him for all eternity!". And then everything else would take a backseat, and it would all become ancillary to The Truth.
Why does it have to be such a battle?
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Time
Sometimes I wonder who came up with the concept of time, but here we are, ruled by every hour and minute of the day. Suddenly everyone is saying, "What happened to January?" and it's true, it did seem to go by in the blink of an eye. I am still trying to figure out how the days seem to go by so fast without knowing what had been accomplished. How sad is it that days and months and years go by, often without anything to show for it.
And as time ticks on, we get older, and suddenly grandparents are turning 86 and 88 and we wonder what happened to the energetic grandparents we had when we were kids. The truth is, we're not kids anymore, and 20 years has passed, and the bodies grow tired. Last night I made a surprise visit to the grandparents', cookies in hand, and even though it was a long drive on a dark night, it was 4000% worth it. I just think of all the warm memories of cookies and visits, and all that was given to me by two grandparents who shared amazing love among so many family members. Isn't it worth a trip to see the smiles on their faces, and a tear in their eye? That is time well spent, and a moment to cherish. These moments aren't going to be there much longer, and need to be savoured before we blink and another year has gone, and we wonder where the time went.
The time is now - what are we doing in this very moment to define our earthly purpose?
Not another minute can be wasted.
And as time ticks on, we get older, and suddenly grandparents are turning 86 and 88 and we wonder what happened to the energetic grandparents we had when we were kids. The truth is, we're not kids anymore, and 20 years has passed, and the bodies grow tired. Last night I made a surprise visit to the grandparents', cookies in hand, and even though it was a long drive on a dark night, it was 4000% worth it. I just think of all the warm memories of cookies and visits, and all that was given to me by two grandparents who shared amazing love among so many family members. Isn't it worth a trip to see the smiles on their faces, and a tear in their eye? That is time well spent, and a moment to cherish. These moments aren't going to be there much longer, and need to be savoured before we blink and another year has gone, and we wonder where the time went.
The time is now - what are we doing in this very moment to define our earthly purpose?
Not another minute can be wasted.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
The Answer
Well, last night's adventure to the downtown church was nothing short of an awe-inspiring, miraculous, God-in-action evening. The roads didn't end up being too bad, and so I arrived at the church at about ten to six. There was no parking in front, so I had to drive up 96th street to come around and park on the block before the church.
But let me backtrack a little bit. A few weeks ago, I had a dream about the downtown church people, which made me realize how much they had worked their way into my thoughts. In my dream, I went down an alley to give a man some money, and he returned the favour by demanding more, and I looked around for help, but there was just a building, and nowhere to go. I ended up running towards a soup kitchen.
So last night I drove up 96 street, past the Mustard Seed, where dozens were waiting to get in for Sunday dinner, turned onto 107 avenue, and then south down 95 street. I thought that if I turned right on 105 avenue I'd end up at the place I wanted to park. So I turned right, and it was a dead end...by a building....and I yelled out loud, "THIS IS THE PLACE FROM MY DREAM!" and it was. Over beside the building were some people and shopping carts, and as I hyperventilated and my brain tried to comprehend the scene, I spun the car around and headed back to the street.
I finally returned to the street on which I could park my car, and all that I could think was "Do you really believe that what you believe is really real". It was going through my head over and over again. I went into the church, invited by a fellow FPU leader, thinking that the revelation of my dream was the reason I was sent last night. But there was more to come.
I walked into the sanctuary and the band was practicing, playing lines from "Knocking on Heaven's Door". It was a welcoming church, and I just sat and took it all in. The band played for an hour or so, very upbeat, lots of dancing and flag waving, and true joy expressing itself through music.
The first speaker was a pastor from Sylvan Lake, who didn't impress me much as the first thing he did was demand that every make an offering so that they could be prosperred. Hmmm....that didn't quite sound right. He then spoke about some of his visions and what they meant to the church in 2010. My head was trying to decide how I was going to make a graceful exit. The second speaker was much better, and had a great message on fire, God being a consuming fire, needing to have the fire within us to reach those outside the church, and being salt to flavour the secular world. He was a great speaker and we ended singing a song that had been written by the founder of the Salvation Army. As we sang the song, I thought that I would leave soon after.
After the song, the entire congregation was invited to the front to receive prayer and to receive the fire. I was happy to just sit in my seat and watch everyone else, and Franca (the fellow FPU leader) asked if I wanted to go out to receive prayer. I reluctantly joined the crowd, feeling slightly uncomfortable as people started falling on the floor. The pastor from Sylvan Lake approached me, and I raised my arms up as he touched my neck and yelled, "FIRE!" My hands dropped to my chest as my knees buckled, but I stayed standing, and he returned as my eyes were closed and again touched me and yelled, "FIRE" and I had to grab a chair to keep from falling. I stumbled downstairs to the washroom, completely lightheaded, drained, like I had been zapped by an electrical current.
I came back upstairs and sat in my chair, repeating to myself, "Do you believe, do you believe, do you really believe that what you believe is really real."
Church in Devon felt different today. I decided to start my own Sunday School bible study on Genesis because I like Genesis, but heard a voice telling me to instead study Isaiah, and so I am tackling that massive book for what is currently an unknown reason. I gave with thanksgiving, giving back to the Lord, knowing that it is all His to begin with and I gladly give my tithe to Him. The sermon spoke volumes as it discussed Ephesians 4 and how we should carry ourselves in this world. Everywhere I looked I saw opportunity to give and to help and contribute to The Kingdom, and I'm not sure where I will be next, but I prayed fervantly and will continue to pray tonight.
Finally I can answer the question, going against all logic.
Yes.
But let me backtrack a little bit. A few weeks ago, I had a dream about the downtown church people, which made me realize how much they had worked their way into my thoughts. In my dream, I went down an alley to give a man some money, and he returned the favour by demanding more, and I looked around for help, but there was just a building, and nowhere to go. I ended up running towards a soup kitchen.
So last night I drove up 96 street, past the Mustard Seed, where dozens were waiting to get in for Sunday dinner, turned onto 107 avenue, and then south down 95 street. I thought that if I turned right on 105 avenue I'd end up at the place I wanted to park. So I turned right, and it was a dead end...by a building....and I yelled out loud, "THIS IS THE PLACE FROM MY DREAM!" and it was. Over beside the building were some people and shopping carts, and as I hyperventilated and my brain tried to comprehend the scene, I spun the car around and headed back to the street.
I finally returned to the street on which I could park my car, and all that I could think was "Do you really believe that what you believe is really real". It was going through my head over and over again. I went into the church, invited by a fellow FPU leader, thinking that the revelation of my dream was the reason I was sent last night. But there was more to come.
I walked into the sanctuary and the band was practicing, playing lines from "Knocking on Heaven's Door". It was a welcoming church, and I just sat and took it all in. The band played for an hour or so, very upbeat, lots of dancing and flag waving, and true joy expressing itself through music.
The first speaker was a pastor from Sylvan Lake, who didn't impress me much as the first thing he did was demand that every make an offering so that they could be prosperred. Hmmm....that didn't quite sound right. He then spoke about some of his visions and what they meant to the church in 2010. My head was trying to decide how I was going to make a graceful exit. The second speaker was much better, and had a great message on fire, God being a consuming fire, needing to have the fire within us to reach those outside the church, and being salt to flavour the secular world. He was a great speaker and we ended singing a song that had been written by the founder of the Salvation Army. As we sang the song, I thought that I would leave soon after.
After the song, the entire congregation was invited to the front to receive prayer and to receive the fire. I was happy to just sit in my seat and watch everyone else, and Franca (the fellow FPU leader) asked if I wanted to go out to receive prayer. I reluctantly joined the crowd, feeling slightly uncomfortable as people started falling on the floor. The pastor from Sylvan Lake approached me, and I raised my arms up as he touched my neck and yelled, "FIRE!" My hands dropped to my chest as my knees buckled, but I stayed standing, and he returned as my eyes were closed and again touched me and yelled, "FIRE" and I had to grab a chair to keep from falling. I stumbled downstairs to the washroom, completely lightheaded, drained, like I had been zapped by an electrical current.
I came back upstairs and sat in my chair, repeating to myself, "Do you believe, do you believe, do you really believe that what you believe is really real."
Church in Devon felt different today. I decided to start my own Sunday School bible study on Genesis because I like Genesis, but heard a voice telling me to instead study Isaiah, and so I am tackling that massive book for what is currently an unknown reason. I gave with thanksgiving, giving back to the Lord, knowing that it is all His to begin with and I gladly give my tithe to Him. The sermon spoke volumes as it discussed Ephesians 4 and how we should carry ourselves in this world. Everywhere I looked I saw opportunity to give and to help and contribute to The Kingdom, and I'm not sure where I will be next, but I prayed fervantly and will continue to pray tonight.
Finally I can answer the question, going against all logic.
Yes.
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