Good quality linen is never disposable.

Anyone that isn't Maddi that is about to read this post, it's in response to this one: http://maddimbury.blogspot.ca/2013/11/im-damn-bed-sheet.html

To the girl who knows all about me and loves me any way,
The girl whose friendship is one I know will outlast the ages regardless of how often we see each other.
To the girl who I know I drive crazy sometimes but is the same girl that taught me what it means to listen and how important it is.
The girl who wrote the blog post that both infuriated me and broke my heart.
To my Maddi:

I believe in asking questions, asking you questions. I'm sorry I haven't been around to ask them in a while. But on that note, you've always been the friend that gave me what she needed to when her load got to heavy, I'm still here and I'll still help you carry it - but I can only listen when you get my attention; I zone out a lot. Remember that.
I know that blog wasn't directed at me, but I felt it - and it broke all my feels into a million little pieces.
And for the record, I've known since the first time we were at the Osmond's together that you don't like goats. I'm sorry I didn't realize they were the bane of all your fear. I hope this website helps: http://www.goat-trauma.org/

To the girl who is always a part of my wedding party whenever I consider that future day,
The girl who, from day one, opened more than her heart to me but her incredible family and their home, too.
To the girl who screams purple, but loves yellow more than Coldplay,
The girl who hits me in her sleep.
To my Maddi:

I know that you hate hugs, but you have always given them to me anyways because you did it for me. You and your mother both. You get your heart from her, no matter how much you're like your dad. Except when it comes to Gibby; your old man loves that dog, and I will never. ever. ever. understand why. I know your brother drives you crazy, but I've never seen you in his shadow - no matter how big his ego driven personality made it. As for dirty laundry, it's really not that important, there's always washing machines; if yours is broken, you can use mine - that dirt never did anyone any good anyways.

To the girl who is one of the smartest people I know, and not because she gets good grades or knows big words, but because she pours all of herself into everything - especially her studies.
The girl who loves Starbucks as much as I do but who I never go with,
To the girl whose natural musical talent has always blown me away; and to think it all started with Vanessa Carlton every time we were near a piano, for years..
The girl who is a chasing the wind.
To my Maddi:

You are one of the best friends I have. And probably ever will. You are the perfect balance of selfless and selfish who somehow manages only to play one of those cards at a time - but that's what makes you crazy and that crazy is what never fails to make me laugh.
Please don't feed the monsters under your bed, they're only going to tell you these lies over again.
I know this time will pass, because eventually they all do.

I move home next month, lets make you and me into us again.

Dearest Maddi, don't sell yourself so short - you're much too tall for that.

PS. I don't know about you, but I've never thrown out a damn bed sheet - I have a couple I really like, I wash them up, shake 'em out and go at it again. Give yourself another chance.

Enough is enough!

Today a seemingly constant theme ran through the text conversation between my dad and I today:
Being enough. 
Both facing our own insecurities as to what it meant to be enough. Enough of a provider, enough of a husband, enough of a daughter, enough of an example, enough of a student, enough of a granddaughter... the list is relative and ultimately endless. But you know what is endless? My tolerance for allowing the world's standards to define who I am and what makes me good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, likeable enough, just enough. 
All my life I've been fooled into believing that if I looked the part, and played the part, that if my report card looked the way certain people expected to and if society saw me as a good fit, that I'd be happy and people would want and love me.
WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING?
None of that matters. 
Sorry, let me make sure you got that: what ever you think it is that makes you _____ enough, none of it matters. 
Now, some of you out there may be thinking: "But if I don't have good enough marks then I'm not going to get the scholarship/job/whatever it is that I want and everyone is going to be disappointed in me.." And yes, that's true you may not get that scholarship or whatever it is your stressing over - that's not what I'm getting at. 
What I am trying to tell you is that if you're doing your best, that's all anyone can ask of you, including YOURSELF. Quit comparing yourself to others. If you look around and consider the people that you want to see you as enough, the ones you want to be proud of you, the ones you want to love you, I can almost guarantee that if they are people that you should truly have in your life that they are going to support you through your failures, wanting nothing more than for you to succeed - even if that means failing by the world's status quo. 
That there, was an incredible difficult concept for me to grasp, and in all honesty, I haven't grasped it in its entirety. 
Today it really hit me when, using all the tact and compassion I could, I stood up to someone who means a lot to me but I have spent my entire life catering to, doing everything to make them happy. I didn't have any peace until I told this person that I believed I was doing all that I could, and that after all this time, all I could hope is that they'd be happy for me. They haven't said anything to me yet, but I'm okay with what I said and am proud of myself for saying it.
Anyways, the real point of this was to say maybe it's about time some of us re-evaluate why it is we're striving to get to, or to accomplish, or complete what it is we are. To think about who it is we're trying to impress...our parents? society? our social network 'friends'?...maybe it's time for us to take a step back, look at our lives and let out a whopping "Who cares?!" and carry on.
Today when I realized that pass or fail, right or wrong, I have people that are still going to be there loving me and encouraging me no matter what, that was the best inspiration to do my best I could've asked for. It dawned on me that I've been doing "this" all wrong, trying to please people that I didn't even know and people that aren't even in my life anymore; people that don't matter. 
Dr Seuss once said something like: 'Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind'....what a smart guy he is... 

Listen, I'm not saying that you should just give up and live just for whatever it is that makes you happy, because that's not how life works (if it did, I'd be on a snowboard somewhere with a fresh blanket of snow, or somewhere in Ireland finding my husband)..You have to work , and some of us have to work harder than others, but that doesn't make us worth any less. And that doesn't mean we can't be happy while doing it. It just means that we need to recheck our "why" and our "for who" that we're doing all it is that we're doing. 

I guess more than anything, to all of those of you who read this.. Consider this to be my public declaration that from here on out, I'm just going to try my best and pass or fail, I'm going to stay true to who I am and who I've been created to be. Because that's all I can do; be me...and I guess if you don't like who that is, than that's really just too bad for you.

a beautiful disaster.

For those of you who don't know, my church participates in a world wide 24/7 prayer week. In which, we fill every hour of each day for an entire week with continuous prayer. Tonight, I have the honour of spending the night in our designated prayer room with one of my newer but best friends worshiping, praying to, and praising our amazing saviour. 
Being Christian comes with it's criticisms, so if you must - go ahead: your words will only provoke further exploration into who God is, because we've all got questions: it's what you do with the answers that really matter..but I digress...
Tonight as we have fought to stay awake, I told Erin more of my story and filled in the gaps that have left her curious as to how I've gotten to where and who I am now (...and am becoming).  While retelling the events of my life that have more than challenged me, the events that have broken me down, stolen my joy, rendered me helpless and hopeless, the events that have forever changed how I see the world and life within it. But to tell you the truth, there's not a whole lot I would change or even take back. 
You see, in the bible, all the trials and hard times, all the plagues, droughts, deaths, sickness, frogs, all the brothers that tried to kill the others, the lepers, the prostitutes and harlots, all the big fish and floods, the blind, the deaf, and the crippled...God used all of them for good, as teaching moments, so much so that they're recorded in the oldest, and longest survived work of literature in the history of this world. 
Looking back over my life, I can't help but hope that it is made more than evident that there's something different about how I've "made it out" of the life that I was born into.
God has shown so much grace, endless devotion, and the purest of committed love. 
Now if you'd like, you're more than welcome to go on believing that the events and circumstances in my life are nothing more than a sequence of serendipity, but all the timing, the feelings, and the triumphs, all the ways that the bad has been used for good - if you want to believe that that was all a matter of karma and chance, be my guest. But I refuse.
If I were to choose one verse and one verse alone to represent this post and my thoughts tonight, it would be Romans 8:28, And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.
People who know my story, even just bits and pieces, including people that have watched me go through life, they have a hard time understanding how I've managed to "not fall with the wrong crowd", "graduate high school much less get to university", "not have a baby and drop out", and a quite a few more... But it comes down to hope. 
Even when I didn't know that God was much more than what comes after 'Oh my' or before 'damnit', He was watching over me and filling my needs and hearts desires. He's had my back all along.
Now, bear with me here, I'm not about to write out my entire life story, but if you ever want to know: ask me. My story is no longer something that brings me shame, but is now something I can just take and proudly say, this is who I am, and this is where I've been and this how I've gotten to where I am now. 
Call him what you want, but to me, God is my redeemer, my hope, my strength, my grace, and my provider... and I am SO thankful for all the ways He has and continues to prove all those attributes of his character. If I could articulate the magnitude of my gratefulness, believe me, I would.


My life is a testament of bad circumstances made beautiful through an unfailing love of a perfect Saviour. Nothing more, nothing less. 

But who's counting candles?

I believe in birthdays.
I think it's important to have one day out of all the 365 of them that belongs to you. Now, yes, this day clearly does not belong solely to you but I digress.

This weekend marks the birthdays of 3 of the my most favourite people in the whole wide universe.
Dave Carrol on thursday, my dad on saturday, and my mom on sunday.

As much as I'd like to tell you that when I sat down to write this that the words came easily to me and I knew exactly how I wanted to express my appreciation, love, and overall admiration for each of these people - that would be lying though. It, in fact, has taken forever for me just to get here.

I originally had it in my head that I wanted to write a small paragraph explaining what they've uniquely taught me and a specific reason as to why I love each of them...that turned out to be much harder than I had anticipated.  (Sorry guys, it's not that you're hard to write about...you're just hard to write about.)

If I could figure out how to articulate this coherently, I'd probably tell you that I think it takes an insurmountable amount of courage, as a grown man, to frequently, and soberly, put on a bright red leotard and prance around the city.. okay, so maybe not prance - but I'm sure if a kid asked him to, he'd do it. And I'd tell you how honoured I am to know someone as courageous and obedient as Dave is to do that.
Or maybe I'd tell you selfless my dad is, how regardless of what he wants, and regardless of how much it drives him especially crazy when my mom and I can't decide on anything, he always asks us what we want and what we think of everything. I'd also probably tell you how good my dad is at listening to God's voice, something that takes a whole of a silence and even more faith.
And I'd probably try to tell how crazy mom is, and that any given moment, especially when I'm in a bad mood, she can be found dancing...and I'd tell you that I'm pretty sure she thinks that she's good at it too...but I'd also tell you how caring she is and how great of hugs she gives - aside from that though, I would probably let you in a little secret...don't ever try to lie to her - she'll see right through ya like a squeaky clean window. However, apparently that's just a motherly super power, but it still wouldn't be a good idea to try and lie to her..she may be pretty, but she'd tough - don't mess with her.
If I remembered at the time, I'd tell you that Dave is my Luke, and that despite how crotchety he is, he really just loves to make people laugh - and he's good at it too.
If I could organize my thoughts, I'd probably try to explain to you that even though I don't know when my parents became my parents, that that was the best day of my life. But I would also tell you that the day I met them, I was very nervous to be working with a bunch of people I had never ever met before...and that my dad, he was just really funny. He made working with new people really easy. I'd tell you that he's as strong as the hulk but that he loves his kitties...and that the only way you'll likely ever see the hulk side of him is to mess with his girls... don't do that.. he loves us.
But more than all else, if I could tell you anything, it would be that these three people are down right, stand-up, quality individuals that anyone would be more than lucky to know. I also probably let you in on the fact, that my parents, are two of the most patient, grace-filled (not graceful, because oh brother, my mother is a klutz), loving people I could've ever imagined being blessed with.

I know this blog doesn't say a whole lot, but I hope that I have potentially, hypothetically, made it somewhat clear, ish, that I love the 3 of you very much and hope that you all have the best birthdays ever.

Here's to taking on another year together.

Cheers.

And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears, and love will not break your heart but dismiss your fears.

Just over a year ago, I started a journey that unbeknownst to me, would change the course of my entire life.

Last August, I started going to Freedom House.
Given, I didn't really start to immerse myself in all that was in store for me until this April - see some basement dwellers...
Over the last 5 months, my entire life has been turn inside out and flipped upside down... and it's not just because of Freedom House as an 'institution', but the people I have met because of it and the ways they've encouraged me to push, challenge, stretch myself.
I can tell already that this post is going to be all over the place, so bare with me. It's been a while:

Right now, like many other times when I write, I am seated on a chair that hinders the ability for my feet to reach the ground, in front of a window... at Starbucks (side note: please send gift cards)..
Details aside, I've started my second year at Brock and I've got more than enough to think about:

I've started a new job (that I'm quitting but I'll explain that later), a new set of classes (that I actually really like), a new apartment (that's all mine, regardless of it's comparable closet size), and above all else: a completely new outlook on life.

This summer, like I mentioned in my post: sunshine doodles on bookshelves, I changed where I lived..and who I lived with. I ripped myself out of the self-constructed world led by the false assumption of "I can do this all by myself because I'm tough and I know everything", and willingly dove head first, terrified, into the "home of a couple from my church".. two absolutely incredible people that I now call Mom and Dad. Who woulda guessed, right? Not this girl. But again, I wouldn't change it for anything ever in the whole world.

Because of the love that my newly acquired parents (and a few others...shout out to Carrols, Horneys, Yodie, Annekin, Mr and Mrs FruFru, and...well, this is going to go on forever, but you know who you are..) poured into me, I found a new hope and confidence. A new hope and confidence that has since taken over my entire life.

Any of you reading this that have known me for more than like...2 years.. you know that I have been more than a little rough around the edges at times, fighting anyone and anything that crossed my path, I've shown less than apathy when it came to my future and ultimately my self-worth. Yep. I said it.
I didn't consider myself worthy of love, no matter how much I wanted it; I fought it more than anything.

This summer marked the demolishion of those walls.
And the beginning of a complete inner reformation.

I can't even begin to tell you how happy I am.

Who knew love had such a profound power to influence how you saw yourself and all of life around you.. ha!


The night before I started my first day of class, I posted this on facebook:

53 likes.
Now, to you professional facebookers, that may not seem like a lot...but that's 53 people that believe in how far I've come.

Coming into this school year, I had no idea what to expect.. And I still don't, but I do know that when I get overwhelmed with assignments, life, and just thoughts, all it takes is a deep breath, some carefully selected music, and when in doubt; a call home.
Ralph Waldo Emerson once said "What lies behind us and what lies before us is nothing compared to what lies within us." And I think he's perfectly right in saying so.
So there.

Oh, and that confidence thing I was talking about earlier? It's pretty freaking awesome.
Believing that I am loved, accepted, and worth it. Knowing that I have roots, a home, and a family.
Remembering that this will always count towards me:
 God destined us to be his adopted children through Jesus Christ because of his love. This was according to his good will and plan and to honor his glorious grace that he has given to us freely through the Son whom he loves. Ephesians 1:5-6 (I realize that not make much sense, but if you take into account the whole "God sometimes uses people to be practical applicants of his love" idea, then it might make a little more sense.. and if it still doesn't: your just missing out.)

I don't know what else to tell you.. just know I'm happier than I ever have been in my whole wide life.
And that doesn't mean the hard times don't happen, it just means I stopped trying to deal with them on my own.

Cheers, 
Lys

PS. Did I mention that I'm not even a little bit concerned with what other people will think of my faith anymore? Only took 5 years.

The most beautiful of legacies...

I wrote this one July 28th...it has remained a draft since, I didn't think it did justice... But these words are still all I have:

Yesterday marked the end of a life and the beginning of a legacy.

As it's defined, a legacy - in our case, is "anything handed down from the past, as from an ancestor or predecessor". Oma left a legacy of hope, faith, and above all, of love.
Upon joining the Vos clan just over three months ago, I was openly embraced by all of her children, and her children's children. The unity and the inexhaustible, seemingly tangible love that resonates in the Vos Homestead is unmistakably genuine. And as I sit down the hall listening to all of her children express their sorrows, prayers, and memories, there's a uniquely noticeable strength and peace about them. I can't help but believe that that is exactly what Oma would've instilled in them all their lives...to love, forgive, have faith, and to hold each other close.

Oma, alongside her husband of 51 years, fostered well over 200 children over the years. That's a lot of lives just through one area of her life...add in church ministries, neighbors,  friends, and you have easily thousands of people over the 69 years that she was direct presence of this world...

It really blows my mind how many people have noted and discussed the legacy of this woman. And now I can't help but feel it's up to us, as her children, grandchildren, friends, and even as mere acquaintances to carry out her legacy.
I guess it just makes me think.. what am I going to make of my life? What am I going to leave behind?
With the example of pure, unadulterated love in mind, I hope that when I reach the end of my life, I can be remembered half as beautifully as her.

All I do know for now is, I consider myself more than blessed to have been one of the lives touched by Clara Vos.

It's up to us.

I'm going to start off with a fair warning that this will likely come off as more of a rant than a conversation but I want you to know that it's genuine, more than genuine, in fact. 
When I listen to this song, a large part of me just wants to scream out "WHY?!" Why are there children out there that are lonely and brokenhearted? Why are there children who have lost their innocence before they could spell innocence? Where are their parents? 
Now, don't get me wrong, I more than most understand that sometimes parents just don't have it in them to be parents, and that's fine. As long as those blessed children are in one way or another exactly that: blessed. I also understand that when children are removed from their biological parents it opens doors for individuals that for whatever reason cannot bare their own then it becomes a double blessing, both for the children who receive parents and parents that receive children. That's all wonderful. Believe me, it is. 
But what about the parents that just don't try? The ones that could be, teach, show, learn, so much more? What's their excuse? Not being a parent I obviously don't fully understand the struggle and the challenge of parenting but having raised younger siblings took away all oblivity on the matter as well. 
As I look around my city, especially within the organizations and childrens' camps that I am a part of, I can't help but feel like it is time for parents to step up and be parents. For them to genuinely engage in their offsprings' lives. To no longer be a by-stander or merely an observer the growing up process that is this life. 
Do me a favour and dig into the abyss of your childhood memories; what do you find there? what moments stick out? more importantly, what people stick out? 
If it's not your parents, who is it? And why? 
And for any of you sitting there reading this, and you can't help but find someone to blame for your lacking involvement in the parental sector - whether it be minor or major, take a step back and consider this: investment is a choice.
Every one of us has a choice, our own choice. More than one in fact, but for this purpose let's just stick with singular form.  
Look at the children in your life, even if you're not a parent, everyone has children in their lives in one forum or another.
How are you going to choose to influence their little malleable lives? 

I believe in potential. But I also believe that potential cannot become reality if it is not fueled  Children have hopes, dreams, and potential - and all three in excess - where does that go when we grow up? Picasso once said that 'every child is born an artists, the problem is then to remain an artist as we grow up'. Okay, so maybe not every child is destined to grow up and become an artist, but I do believe that every child is meant to grow up and be something great. I don't just mean doctors, lawyers, and teachers - society needs someone for every facet of life and career. But also believe that before you can love anything else you first have to love yourself - something I think begins as a child... 

I guess all I'm trying to say is that we as adults both young and old have an unwritten responsibility to bring up a generation of children that truly believe they can do anything. We have the power, we just need the effort applied to the ideas and passion for a better tomorrow - I believe it's possible and I believe it is right in front of us. 

Cheers.


I love this song, it's what inspired this post, but I don't think we need to have it be so relateable anymore:

This one’s for the lonely child
Broken-hearted, running wild
This was written for the ones to blame
One who believes they are the cause of chaos and everything

You may find yourself in the dead of night
Lost somewhere up in the great big beautiful sky
You were all just perfect little satellites
Spinning round and round this broken earthly life

This is so you know the sound
Someone who loves you from the ground
Tonight you’re not alone at all
This is me sending out my satellite call

This is so you’ll know the sound
Someone who loves you from the ground
Tonight you’re not alone at all
This is me sending out my satellite call

Sunshine doodles on bookshelves.

Exactly three months ago to this day, Tuesday April 23, I had one of the most...interesting, intense, worst, best, crazy, calming, peaceful, riprolling, eye-opening...and above all life changing nights of my short little life. I can't say that I didn't see events coming that started the preceding description of the night, but I will tell you that I didn't expect things to turn out remotely on the same planet much less even in the category as they did.
I can retell the events of that night to you like it just happened five minutes ago, and well, actually, I'm going to:
You see, I had been back in town for three days after finishing my school-year...and as previously mentioned this night being discussed was a Tuesday - that means it was Fusion down at our local Freedom House and to add some flavour it was State of the Union Communion.
I got back from volunteering about an hour before I had to be at the church and less than 10 minutes after arriving, all hell broke loose. Now, don't get me wrong, all relational-units, otherwise known as families, have their issues, but this time - this night - it was the end..and well the beginning but that part doesn't come til later.
To save you the details worthy of Jerry Springer, let's just say it was loud, and that I left.
Oh, right, just to be clear - the loudness though caused by my presence, I had no part in it - solely observation. When I left, it was to go to the grocery store to get food for State of the Union: not out of rage. I was hoping the seas would be calmed by the time I came back from the grocery store... this was not the case. My immediate reaction was to head down to the laundry room where I had just finished all of my "Home-From-University-Laundry" grabs pajamas and clothes for the next day, and to get out.
And just that, I did:
I left again. In tears this time. Feeling nothing but unlovable and unwanted, I headed to the church.
What happens next however is the part I never would've expected to happen:
A Facebook message came through on my phone only moments before arriving at the church. And through my tearfilled eyes I read:

The timing of this message was impeccable. At the very moment that those words showed up on my phone, I remember myself thinking, what am I going to do? where am I going to go? how am I going to do this?
So after a lot of tears, prayer, more tears and more prayer: I built up the courage and I went over after Fusion.
Did I mention neither of the people listed above had any idea of what was going on in my life prior to me receiving that message?

That night 3 months ago, and every night since; I have known the power and hope found in love.
Don't ask me how it works because so far I haven't figured it out and truthfully I think I may have stopped wondering all together... but I do know this, it's true:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

So much has changed for me in the last 3 months...I could list it all, but that would take a long time and to be honest: I've lost count...as much as the things that have changed have now changed in my life forever...I can promise you that I wouldn't have it any other way.

I   am   so   blessed.

"And there they were. All these mothers. I have more mothers than any eight girls off the street. They are the moons shining over me."

Sue Monk Kidd wrote that quote into The Secret Life of Bees, one of my favourite books. In the end, the main character Lily watches her father drive away and left behind her are four strong, loving, beautiful, passionate women. Looking back over the course of my life, I could use that line time and time again. 
You see, she didn't die, it wasn't on the 6 o'clock news or in the back of the paper...She didn't leave me on a stoop, there was no basket or doorbell involved. At 22, she gave birth to a tiny baby with lungs to challenge the town crier and big brown eyes ready to take on the world she had just been brought into.
That baby was me.

Despite her earnest attempts at motherhood, her past held more power than those genuine attempts could ever defeat. So needless to say and to the fault of none, the relationship between my mother and I has lacked in most areas...but I have never been without. 

Throughout my life, I have always had strong, boisterous, and absolutely incredible women, some with their own children and some without, to fill whatever void, and always just at the right time for just the right amount of time too. Looking back, I can blatantly and all too obviously see where each woman had been put in my path to teach me, lead me, and above all else, love me. 

These women all have come from different walks of life, friend circles, and are overall each tremendously unique - that's what makes me the luckiest girl on the planet - where my life was lacking in one area, it has been unequally overwhelmed with everything I've ever needed...more so recently than ever before..more permanently too. 

To those of you reading this, the ones that have always been there, the ones that have come and gone, and the newer ones: Please know just how thankful I am.

I can wholeheartedly and proudly admit that there is absolutely not a hope or chance in the world that I would be half the woman I am today without the role you have played. Each of you has taught me such specific and explicit things that I could never learn from anyone else - I'd list all the things and who you all are, but we'd be here all week; that's almost 20 years of mothers people!

Thank you for being the moons that shine over me, even in the darkest of nights... I don't know how I would've made it this far without you.


Cheers.
P.S. Happy Mother's Day.

Duncan Hines, like the cake mix.

His favourite candy is Smarties, he loves cars, playing catch, and turning ACDC up louder than it should ever be. He loves his friends and spending hours on XBOX, even when I want the TV.
He's my little brother, and he is my hero.

You see, my brother has cerebral palsy. For those of you who don't know what that is, in short, it means the parts of his brain that should make all his muscles work properly together and his brain functions correlate with is age, those parts don't work the way they should.
But I wouldn't have it any other way.

We have at home spa days, he even paints my nails!

Yes, you heard me properly: I like that my brother has disabilities, that he's handicapped, that he's "special", whatever you want to call it; I'm glad he is the way he is.
Now, before you get all up in a tizzy, hear me out: My brother is one of the happiest, most caring, beautiful, loving, and absolutely selfless people you could ever imagine meeting in all of the universe. His disabilities have not only opened my eyes to a world that most people would rather leave unnoticed and untouched, but he's taught me to embrace and laugh at everything that makes us unique as individuals - no what matter those traits may be.

One of the proudest moments of my entire
life: his grade 8 graduation.

I'm not saying that it isn't hard, because believe me, my life has been anything but easy. Especially having a brother who can't walk or talk properly and who can't always think or care for himself but I wouldn't be who I am today without what he alone has added to my life.
I've learned how to cook for, clean up after, and care for another human. Something most of my friends wont do for another several years when they have kids of their own. I can usually spot a hazard before it arises, I know how to create endless amusement for someone with the attention span of a chipmunk on speed. Better yet, I've learned how to tell adversity and those decks stacked against me to "come at me bro", and really mean it. I've learned how to appreciate the big things, the little things and everything in between.

What about all that makes him my hero?
He gets up every morning and faces a world that does nothing but tell him that he's not good enough and that he's missing out on so much because he's 'different'. But instead of letting all that negativity get him down, he looks it back in the face and shows that same world that there's nothing he can't do.

People look at him for what's keeping him in the wheelchair and what he can't do, he looks at his wheelchair and thinks of everything he can do because of it - even if that means running over my feet and giving me a heart attack when he goes too fast down the sidewalk.

Since my third birthday (yes, we are 3 and a half hours shy of being exactly 3 years apart), I have had a shining beacon of hope, joy, and the purest love a sister could ask for right in front of me. For the last almost 17 years, he has cheered on, fought me for the remote, I've stolen his sweaters and he's scratched my CDs. He's kept me grounded..and got me grounded. He's pulled my hair and taken my pillows, but even through everything we've braved together and understand me when I tell you that that list isn't a short one either.. He has always, without even the possibility of a doubt, believed in me.

I don't know what, or who I would be without him.

Did I mention his name is Duncan Hines? Yep. No joke, he's that cool.

some basement dwellers and a disney singalong, with a side order of belonging

Growing up in Brantford means one thing..okay, it means a lot of things: you know that the bus station is more than just a method of transportation - it's home to the best fry stand in town, you know that there will most definitely be a Tim Hortons within two blocks of wherever you find yourself at any given time, it means that you know going under the Lorne bridge at night is just asking for trouble, and you know that construction on King George Rd was the worst idea the city ever had. 
But above all that, you know that at some point in your life you wanted nothing more than to leave. Escape the four walls it felt like were created within the likes of Paris Rd, Powerline, Wayne Gretzky Pkwy and the far side of Eagle Place. Most of us do in fact leave, but that same lot..we come back. 

I did just that - leave. I did the second part too - I came back. 
However, I will tell you this, I came back for different reasons than I thought I would as a university student. I thought I'd be coming back to do mountains of laundry and pillage my grandmother's pantry but instead I found myself coming back for something I never would've expected. 
My excitement for the weekend not-so-gradually shifted from being about sleeping in my own bed and doing laundry, but instead, it quickly became about going home.   
I don't mean home to my house, I mean home to my church.
Never in a million years did I think that a group of sarcastic, energetic, Jesus-lovin'-go-getters found in the basement of an old mall would be the people that I would come to call family...Well.. I guess if the shoe fits! 

I have been completely accepted, teased, and loved just for being me. And I have been endlessly encouraged as I figure out just who that 'me' really is! I have been surrounded by wonderful people that I now can't imagine my life without. I just keep thinking about the song from Camp Rock...quit judging me and just read the lyrics:

"I've always been the kind of girl
That hid my face
So afraid to tell the world
What I've got to say

But I have this dream
Right inside of me
I'm gonna let it show, it's time
To let you know

This is real, this is me
I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be, now
Gonna let the light, shine on me
Now I've found cause who I am
There's no way to hold it in
No more hiding who I want to be
This is me"

Since joining Freedom House a few months ago, I have helped with a 3-day winter carnival we locals call  Frosty Fest, a completely unrelated turkey bingo, a fiftieth birthday party, a week of prayer, and most recently, a massive Easter egg hunt..and each time I find myself thinking how much I love the feeling that I'm part of something so much bigger than myself.   But as much as these events and such are about more than little ol'me, in doing them, with my fellow Freedom Housers, I'm learning SO much about who I am and who I've been created to be. 

It's been an adventurous gong show and a half, but I wouldn't trade it for anything else in the whole world.

The best part is.. it's just getting started.

Cheers.

And the saint came marching in..

Alright readers, as a disclaimer for those of you who don't know me very well, I am church-going-bible-thumping-Jesus-loving-freak. And well, if you don't like that, than too bad for you. Especially because this blog is about an amazing woman who greatly influence those characteristics in me - even if I didn't realize it until now. Kay Nelson, a woman after God's own heart, of whom this world recently lost after a long, tumultuous battle with cancer.

At the funeral last week, after seeing all the people that filled out both the chapel and then the reception hall who came to pay their respects and ultimately to recognize how much of an amazing woman we had all been blessed enough to have known, I decided I would write this tribute. It wasn't until this afternoon when I reread all the facebook messages that Kay had sent me over the years that I actually knew what I would say. 

You see, Kay was the sassy old lady in the back of the church, who sat to the left of the sound booth, in the exact same spot for as long as anyone can remember. A spot that now, though it would be empty, will be known as "Kay's spot". From that spot she watched us all grow, both as humans and more importantly as children of God - and she never let a moment of praise or prayer go unnoticed as we grew. 

Approximately 9 years ago, she began to watch a loud, eager, and obnoxious, 5th grade girl who could usually be found saying all the wrong things at all the wrong times, begin take the those first steps in her faith-walk, and since the first step, prayed for her until the very day she died. 

If you hadn't already figured it out from the eerily accurate description or the blatantly obvious author, that rambunctious little girl was none other than yours truly.

Throughout the years, Kay would send me cards, small gifts, and just plain old love, every chance she got. As her knowledge of the inter-web and e-cards grew, so did the encouragement ministry that she herself had both created and run. Many of us at the funeral agreed that we would often find, at just the right time, an e-card or facebook message that always seem to fit perfectly with whatever we were going through at the time, whether it was a hard time or a good one, Kay always had the words and means to encourage us. 

She never missed an opportunity to make sure that I knew I was loved and being prayed for as I took on this crazy thing called life. One time, while chatting on facebook, Kay told me "Go with God" as our conversation was coming to a close, she told me that she told her husband the same thing every morning, she proceeded to tell me how much he treats her like a queen and that if I prayed hard, I would get just the right man for me as well.  She truly never missed an opportunity to share loving, encouraging words. One of my most treasured messages from her is:
"You see, you are standing strong, and therefore the devil is not sleeping... God has a perfect plan for your life and we can't wait to see that unfold. Our love and prayers are with you."
I don't know if you get the picture yet, but Kay was an amazing woman who influenced more people than I think she was ever aware of. Her reliance on God and her sureness in the power of prayer is something that I will serve as an example in my life forevermore. I'm hoping that she can look down on me and be proud of the woman her "sweet little one" is becoming, knowing just how thankful I am for how much of a role that her life and prayers have played throughout the years and will continue to.

As much as I miss her already, I am beyond thrilled that she will never have to endure any form of pain ever again, she deserves to finally reap the rewards of all her many years of the blessings she poored out on all of us!

Cheers. 

PS, she would've wanted me to make sure that this post was ended with a verse so in true tribute, here's the one she always left me: Psalm 32:8.

Fall down seven times, stand up eight

I started writing this post a while back but for whatever reason never ended up finishing it or posting it until tonight... so here you go:


"The youth she owned still lingered deep inside her eyes, unhardened like the remainder of that she consisted of. She embraced the coming restless days and sleepless nights with courage, bravery, and determination. What lay ahead, she would never predict but the unknown could not and did not stop her. She believed in pressing on, and pressing on she did. She looked back, but only to see how far she had come."

Don't ask me why I wrote that, because for the most part: I have no idea.
There is little part I do, such as the inspiration of the "she" but I'm not telling you.

Something I do know though and will share is how much I am constantly amazed by the ability, that we as humans possess, to be so resilient.

It absolutely astounds me everyday how many people I see that, even though they are facing the utmost unfortunate and terrible struggles, that they keep on swimming.

Take a minute and think about the last trial you faced, how it changed you, and how far you have come in your life since it happened.

Now think of the strongest person you know, what makes them strong? From my point of view, it's the people that no matter how many times they get knocked down - they never stay down. And that doesn't mean they don't stumble - just because they seem to bear strength that would make Samson himself tremble - that doesn't mean they're not allow to fall...*starts singing terribly off key* "Even the best fall down sometimes, even the wrong words seem to rhyme.." thank you Mr Howie Day.

I guess my goal for myself, and my hope for those of you reading this, is that no matter how many times we stumble, fall, get knocked down, pushed over and stepped on while we're down there, that we get back up.
And yes, I realize that is easier said than done, but that doesn't mean it can't be done... keep looking up and the rest of you will eventually follow, if you catch my drift... and even if you don't, just think about when you're driving a car - where you look is where it will go, think of yourself and your life the same way.

We got this.

Cheers.

Love me some Vitamin D

Today between church and work, I had some spare time so I decided a sunshine-filled stroll down King George Rd was in order - Metro to Tim Hortons. Nothing long, and nothing overly special..unless you've spent more than a third of your life in Brantford, that is.
Now you may be sitting there reading and thinking to yourself, "But Alyssa, I've spent well over a third of my life in this city and I haven't got a clue of what it is you speak of!" ... Well my good friends, on this, the tenth day of the third month...wait for it...
DAIREE DELITE IS OPEN.
And I'm sure some of you are still wondering what the big deal is, and for that reason, I will lend you a hand:

The opening of good ol'Dairee Delite not only signifies the beginning of ice cream season..erm, I mean spring. It means so much more than that! Think of all the wonderful things that spring brings about! You've got your clean cars, your saltless boots, your pasty legs, your less than toned arms and you'll probably come to realize that your favourite sandals have officially reached the end of their service term. However, along with all those great things, you get to bring the bikes out of the shed, pump up the tires and begin operation "No More Training Wheels", you get to jump in puddles, you get to barbeque without a parka, and you get begin filling the air with the sweet aroma of freshly cut grass.
I personally love spring because I love "spring cleaning". Opening the windows, music playing, and cleaning. Don't forget purging - oh man - that's the best part - getting rid of and giving away things you don't want or need anymore. Lovelovelove it. Anyways, I don't love the actual process of cleaning but I do love the feeling that comes when you sit down afterwards and accomplishment floods through your veins and you think to yourself:
Life. Is. Good.
Spring to me is a clean, clutterless, fresh start.
And I don't just mean for your house and closet, I mean for your life in general.
You finally get to work on shedding those last few holiday pounds, or you get to start.
You get to ride your bike, for those of you who have seen my bike - you understand my love.
You get to spend time with the kidlets, it seems like from about the middle of November until the beginning of march, life is just too busy and crazy to see anyone - even your own family. Well guess what? It's spring, you have no excuse to not start making plans and fulfilling them.
An lastly, you get a(n almost) daily dose of vitamin D that will continue to brighten (haha, see what I did there!?) your days so that when the rain comes, you're ready to embrace it with rubber boots and smile.

So friends, I leave you with a challenge, should you choose to accept it:
Step 1) Make a spring/summer bucketlist.
Step 2) Do it.
Steph 3) Actually do it.

Cheers.

Wait wait!! One more thing I love about spring, out of absolutely no where, a miracle occurs and the general population remembers how to drive. And that my friends, is truly a beautiful thing.

But think about it!

Today as I was driving (quite hastily by the way) to get a now very good friend of mine, Stephanie, to the airport in time to catch her flight to Calgary so she could spend Reading Week with her mother and sisters, I started thinking about the "Ripple Effect" of this crazy thing called life we all lead.
Now, bear with me, this is the story that led me to refer to Steph as a now very good friend of mine - read it and then I'll get to my point, if you want to call it that.
Steph and I grew up in the same town, went to the same elementary school (for the most part), and had the same best friend - of whom we fought over and about tirelessly. We both have very strong, loud, crazy, and driven personalities...and we both wanted the same girl as our best friend. This rivalry that started between us at the young age of about 7 stuck with us all throughout elementary school. Funny thing is, as we got older and had developed friendships with other people in our little cliques, and even though our mutual friend was friend was no long the object or subject of our battles: everything else was. Thankfully, it wasn't as loud, violent, or just plain awful as it once was.
BUT WAIT! It gets better! We got to high school and we had our very first class together: Gym with Ms Link, still to this day one of my absolute favourite teachers and dearest role models, might I add. Being the only other familiar face, Steph and I were partners by default - for everything. Slowly we began realizing that our differences weren't so different after all. By grade 11, I'd say we considered the other a friend and by our victory lap (grade 13 for those of you who don't know what I'm talking about), we'd become really good friends that hung out and talked on a regular basis.

Want to know the best part? 

Those same very strong, loud, crazy, and driven personalities got us, against all other odds, to university. And the same university at that.
We've become such great friends over the last few years that we cook, laugh, drive, party, cry, and just so, so much more together. Ultimately, we came to realize that we couldn't get along as kids because we both had so much going on in our personal lives that we could never take enough of a breath to realize then that we were both very broken and hurting little girls - of whom later in life would cry together about the same shared insecurities, fears, and worries, and would laugh at the same jokes and belt out and love the same songs...
In hind sight, I suppose Steph and I could've been great friends had we not fought all the time. BUT!
That's what brings me to my actual reason for this whole spiel: the show Touch.

It always amazes me to think about how we as humans, societies, civilizations, you name it - how we even exist. But that's a another topic for another time.
For right now, let's talk about how we affect one another. It's crazy to believe that the smallest actions we make on a daily basis could affect someone on the other side of town, in another city, or even on the other side of the world.
Now, I told you the story of Steph and I not only because I really started thinking about this while rushing her to the airport this afternoon but also because I started wondering how our lives could've taken very different courses had we ended up recognizing our similarities as similarities and not differences as children.
Emily and Stephanie are the best of best friends and are completely inseparable. Steph even lives with Emily's family while we're all not away at school. Had Emily and Stephanie not become such good friends, and Steph and I had instead, the world would've had a pair of crazy, crazy girls and no one would've benefited from that at the time. There's a very good chance, had the two of us been friends as kids, we would've grown up getting ourselves into all sorts of trouble which over the long term could've been terrible - criminal maybe. But the thing is, Emily is Stephanie's source of stability - to a reasonable extent. Just like my best friend is to me. Had I ended up being best friends with Emily (of whom I am still very good friends with), I never would've ended up being best friends with Faith. Which, depending on who you ask, may or may not be the greatest thing that's ever happened in my life. She's the best and I have no idea what I'd do without her!
To many of you reading this, I'm sure the use of the term "best friends" may seem juvenile and over done, but I assure you, that we are best friends in the truest and purest sense of the term.
All these the events in my life got me to where and who I am today - and I can't necessarily or easily say that I would change any of them or take any of them back... because quite frankly - my life is turning into quite a beautiful adventure.
However, I would really, really like to know one day what the affects of my actions have been in the lives of my friends, my family, and of complete strangers. Like when I held open the door for that man in a rush the other day, did he make his meeting or wherever he was going on time? or was he still late? did it matter?

Our lives are a giant interconnected web of love, loss, heartache, and joy. The good and the bad - it's all related. An example from the show that really touched me, (aha get it?! Touch, Touched aha I'm so clever), the father interrupted a phone call, which made a man miss his flight, which meant on his way home he was able to save children from a burning bus like the retired firefighter that he was.
What if we all play a part in being like that father who interrupter the phone call or the retired firefighter..
I believe we do. So what are you going to do with your part?
Every one of our actions has to mean something...
Just like how my action of procrastinating while writing this will later affect my mark on my science article summary. Which I should get to... eventually.

Cheers.

new beginnings also known as RIGHTNOW

Alright here's your visual: I'm sitting on a chair much to tall for me at a table much too tall for me, in Starbucks watching the cars drive down the busy street, drinking a caramel macchiato, and listening that Tracy Chapman, Colbie Caillat and Serena Ryder. I should be studying psychology, but I digress.
I found myself thinking that I couldn't wait for this term and more importantly, this year to be over, just so that I could be home working, make some money, just to be passing the time waiting for next year to start. Now, as much as I am truly excited for next year and all the adventures, classes, and boxes of kraft dinner that I'm sure will accompany it... what's my hurry? I know that I'm excited for this next stage in my life with my first official apartment, potentially living with my best friend, and overall the new beginning, but this is where I become a total hypocrite. I've always been a firm believer that if you want to change something: Do it - and here I am sitting in a Starbucks day dreaming about how wonderful next year will be.
Hello Alyssa!
You can have your fresh start right now! Duh.
*face palm*
So here it goes, I've had goals, aspirations, and dreams sitting on the back burner for far too long. I've been waiting for other people, been held back by other people, and for what? Nothing. That's what.
This is my life, not theirs. I've been focusing all too much for far too long on all the people and obstacles that told me I couldn't do it instead of all the people and possibilities that told me I could. I've been listening the voices that told me I wasn't good enough, instead of the ones that said I was more than enough.
That was silly. That stops now.
I'm taking the reins of my life, I'm embracing my potential and all the opportunities (and even the struggles) that come with it.
I use the username "alyshines" for almost everything, does anyone else see the hidden word there? Just in case you can't see it, it's Shine. Yes, that means Aly Shines. It's about time I start living up to that. Because if you take the S of the end of Hines, throw it at the beginning, you get Shine. And I can do that, and no, I'm not just talking about my oily skin in the sun.
Today is the first day of the rest of my life - I'm gonna make it count!
(Here's a minuscule apology to all of you out there that have been telling me forever I can do anything I put my mind to and that I have some serious potential. I'm going to do my best to believe you from here on out. Aside from an apology, this is also me asking for all you out there to hold me accountable and to slap me upside the head when I start slide backwards - because believe me, you know as well as I do that it is bound to happen.)
Well, now that that's out of my system I should probably get back to, and by get back to, I mean start, my psychology reading.
Cheers.