I miss it. but thats not the end of the story

I miss it but...

I am determined not to miss out on life here in Calgary by dwelling on how much I miss Dublin. I know in my heart that I will go back so right now I am struggling to learn balance. I am struggling to LIVE here in Calgary, to invest in the people around me with out dwelling or worrying about Dublin. Its a struggle but one I am excited to see what God places in life here in Calgary. I am so blessed.

How can I not love that face and fall

But that's not the end of the story.

My life here is full, since coming home from Dublin I have seen God provide for me in every area I have had a need. I went from frantically panicking about having no job and bills to pay to having 3 jobs in a matter of a few weeks.

I desperately wanted a community to be apart of. I wanted it to be diverse, challenging and loving, a group who wasn't afraid to argue or be different. I can now happily say I am apart of a small group that is definitely all of these things and more than I would have dreamed for myself.

I wanted peace about life. I wanted to know that I am going down the right path and I can honestly say that although I have absolutely ZERO idea about what the future will look like I am at peace with where I am right now.

BUT

I miss it.

I miss the kids.

I miss the people at DCM

I miss the teens.

I miss the HARD times and the GOOD times.

I miss the city.

I miss my roommates.

I miss my church there.

I miss the laughs.

I just miss Dublin.

But I will keep looking at the Lord and thanking him for my incredibly blessed life.

Choose Life Kids

A secret about Snow

Alright I am about to share a secret with you all, and its a little scary for this self professed summer girl but I think that I am falling in love with snow. Mind you this love will only probably last until February but at least right now, snow is magical. There is something so peaceful about a fresh snowfall, all I want to do is sit in a warm room wrapped in blankets and by the light of candles and watch the snow fall. 

I stumbled across this poem today that I feel expresses my feelings about snow perfectly.

London Snow

BY ROBERT BRIDGES

When men were all asleep the snow came flying,

In large white flakes falling on the city brown,

Stealthily and perpetually settling and loosely lying,

      Hushing the latest traffic of the drowsy town;

Deadening, muffling, stifling its murmurs failing;

Lazily and incessantly floating down and down:

      Silently sifting and veiling road, roof and railing;

Hiding difference, making unevenness even,

Into angles and crevices softly drifting and sailing.

      All night it fell, and when full inches seven

It lay in the depth of its uncompacted lightness,

The clouds blew off from a high and frosty heaven;

      And all woke earlier for the unaccustomed brightness

Of the winter dawning, the strange unheavenly glare:

The eye marvelled—marvelled at the dazzling whiteness;

      The ear hearkened to the stillness of the solemn air;

No sound of wheel rumbling nor of foot falling,

And the busy morning cries came thin and spare.

      Then boys I heard, as they went to school, calling,

They gathered up the crystal manna to freeze

Their tongues with tasting, their hands with snowballing;

      Or rioted in a drift, plunging up to the knees;

Or peering up from under the white-mossed wonder,

‘O look at the trees!’ they cried, ‘O look at the trees!’

      With lessened load a few carts creak and blunder,

Following along the white deserted way,

A country company long dispersed asunder:

      When now already the sun, in pale display

Standing by Paul’s high dome, spread forth below

His sparkling beams, and awoke the stir of the day.

      For now doors open, and war is waged with the snow;

And trains of sombre men, past tale of number,

Tread long brown paths, as toward their toil they go:

      But even for them awhile no cares encumber

Their minds diverted; the daily word is unspoken,

The daily thoughts of labour and sorrow slumber

At the sight of the beauty that greets them, for the charm they have broken.

The Word

"The Word we study has to be the Word we pray. My personal experience of the relentless tenderness of God came not from exegeses, theologians and spiritual writers, but from sitting still in the presence of the living Word and beseeching Him to help me understand with my head and heart His written Word. Sheer scholarship alone cannot reveal to us the gospel of grace. We must never allow the authority of books, institutions or leaders to replace the authority of knowing Jesus Christ personally and directly . When the religious views of others interpose between us and the primary experience of Jesus as the Christ, we become unconvicted and unpersuasive travel agents handing out brochures to places we have never visited."

The Ragamuffin Gospel

Brennan Manning