We can do hard things…

It is hard not to succumb to the sadness. Challenging not to give in to the fear, letting it wash all over us. It would be much easier to sink deeper and deeper. Because everywhere you turn, there it is. Pain. Sorrow. Grief. Trouble. Distress.
It’s there, wherever you turn.
And days like this one, when we are reminded yet again that life is not fair, that life can seem to cheat us of what we wish to have- it’s days like these that we feel it the most. Despair. And we just would rather lie down and let it beat us than try and stand and fight it off. Fighting’s too hard sometimes. It require too much of us. For it requires planning and a vision- it requires a revelation and the hope of a promise. Fighting means believing. And believing means hope.
Sometimes it’s hard to get there- hope seems too far away. It seems elusive. Like sands in an hourglass.
But hope is what we crave- it always will be.
And I was reminded today- on a day when I woke feeling like hope was at its faintest, farthest point…I woke feeling that hope was too far out of reach. On this very day when I was at the lowest,I was reminded by someone very young, of a very great truth. That truth is this. We might be down, but we are not defeated. We might be disadvantaged, but we are not without aspiration. We might despair, but we are not left without expectation. We are able- we just need to believe it.
Because we can do hard things.

WE CAN DO HARD THINGS.

Isn’t that incredible? WE CAN. And I was reminded of this great truth today for the millionth time.  Just when I was nearly about to let go of believing. We can do this life. We can do hard things.

We can face adversity and come out stronger.
We can deal with hardship and thrive.
We can go through extreme difficulty and persevere.
We can suffer misfortune and live to tell the tale.
We can endure harsh conditions and grow tenacity.
We can look danger in the face and say the words: Love is stronger.
We can win over fear.

And we can do this- we can do these hard things because we’re able. We’ve been enabled.
My source of strength is drawn from the One Who gives limitless strength. And because He’s able, so am I. His Promises are sure: I can do all things through Christ, Who strengthens me. And when the words say ALL, I believe it.
I can face uncertain days, live with pain and suffering, accept the life I have been given and know for sure that this life was meant to be lived by me. This way. I can know for sure that I was meant to thrive, not survive.
And all because I believe. I BELIEVE. And because I believe in One who is able. So then am I.

I can do hard things.
And so can you.

So let’s just live it, like we know it’s really true.

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Interrupting the Flow

I teach kindergarten. Which is to say I teach precious, innocent, lively four and five year olds. And you would not believe how much these children at this tender age KNEW about the horrific tragedy of the past few days in Moncton, N.B. They knew so much: the killer’s name, how many R.C.M.P. officers died, how many were wounded, where the killer had been, what he said when he’d been caught.

They also had a few facts that sounded a little strange as well; since our power was off at home this morning (and never came on prior to school), I was unable to verify whether these “other” stories were fact or fiction. But overall, I was actually blown away with what they knew. And with this new knowledge they’d acquired, there was definitely a feeling of heightened tension in the air: tension visible in spite of the fact that things are now considered safe for us all in light of the capture of the killer. Safe for us now in spite of our physical and emotional distant proximity from the actual scene of the horror.

Since the chatter started as soon as they came in the classroom, I began asking the children to save their questions until we could all be together on our communal gathering spot, our worn, blue rug. The less informal chitchat, the better in these situations. When we did finally broach the topic, there were equal expressions of relief and sadness for the fallout. These expressions came out when we talked about how we were feeling, something we always do at the start of a brand new school day, today’s routine being no different than any other morning. And as we talked, several children expressed deep grief for the fallen heroes, the three men who died in action two evenings ago.

I was so touched by their sensitivity.

And as I watched the concern wash across their faces, I was reminded yet again how important it is to create positive connections with those in authority beginning even at this very young age.  Especially at this critical point in their lives- the beginning of their formal education. The opinions we form of those in uniform who work for our benefit begin when we are young matter.  And they can be far-reaching. These days are both impressionable and significant. And as such, I use every opportunity I can find to make local police officers and firefighters visible to my young students. Thankfully, this has been made easier with the fact that for the last number of years, students in my class have had a parent who is a Member. Or at the very least, a close connection to one. The visibility of those in uniform to my students has been pivotal in making permanent positive associations with police officers and the like.

Like many young children their age, my students think R.C.M.P. are like superheroes.  Capable of preforming amazing feats that defy ordinary human capabilities.  I guess you could say they are not too far off the mark with that one.  The R.C.M.P. officers I know are pretty amazing people.  And the events of the past few days only confirm this fact for me.

But in spite of my students awe and wonder, it’s still hard to know what to say to young children when scary things happen so close to home. My students had family members and friends in the cordoned off area where the search had been conducted. I wanted to say something to counter the fear and paranoia. So that the lasting impression wasn’t “what if this ever happened again” but rather “how then, shall we now live?”.

In the split second in which I was trying to form my words, thinking on the spot with wondering little faces turned towards me , I remembered a blog article I had read recently by Glennon Melton at Momastery in which she talked about how we can counter the negativity and evil we come in contact with in our daily lives. This is what she said:

I’ve learned that we cannot change the fact that fear will be released into the world again and again- but we DO have the power to convert that fear into love. As it flows into us, we must CHANGE it before we allow it to flow back out to others. We must interrupt the flow. We have that power. And that’s my favorite kind of conversion – Fear to Love.

Isn’t that powerful?

We can reverse the flow.

And it can begin right now, even in the shadow of the past nights horrors. Even in the light of the coming sadness for families who will grieve their losses. Even in spite of the fact that innocence has been lost. In spite of great tragedy. We can reverse the flow.

So here’s what I said. I told the children we were no longer going to focus on the details of the event that would weigh us down. We were going to turn our sadness into appreciation. Into gratitude. We were going to reverse the flow of fear into an outpouring of love. And we would do this by first making sure that if we saw a police officer or R.C.M.P. member this weekend out and about, we would take the time to thank them. And tell them how much we appreciate their service.

Just a very simple, basic way to start the process of interrupting and reversing the flow.

Everywhere- from one tip of Canada to the other, I am hearing stories of people interrupting the flow. People who are reaching out to officers and thanking them in restaurants and other public places. People leaving flowers and chocolates and baked goods at police stations the Maritimes over. People covering social media and news print with thank-you ads and words of appreciation. One little guy somewhere apparently even drew a picture for an officer and handed it to him, bringing a wave of emotion to that officer who then shared it with staff members back at the station.

All this done in a concerted effort to interrupt the flow and set it on a new directional course, thus bringing good from evil. Making joy out of great sorrow. Incredible stuff.  So profound, yet so very simple and natural when it comes to actually doing it.

Although interruptions don’t always return us to where we began, they do ensure that someone SOMEWHERE will be changed because of them. Kindness has that power to influence perspectives. And if even one of the young children I learn alongside is positively affected towards greater appreciation and a lifetime of respect towards our men and women in uniform, then that one life was worth the work of initiating the INTERRUPTION process.

That one life, that one little soul: they were worth the time and effort it took to positively influence them. It’s the power of one. It starts small, but the ripple effect is tremendous and far-reaching.

May we never forget that we have the ability to interrupt the flow.

Pray For Moncton, New Brunswick

“Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?” she asks trustingly. I kiss her baby cheeks and cuddle in close.

When disaster strikes, everyone is afraid. And while it is hard for us as adults to understand the travesty of it all, for children it is unthinkable. Hard to believe in hope when all you feel is fear. Children everywhere are scared- I cannot even imagine what terrors are being played out in the minds of those children directly affected by this tragedy. I cannot even fathom.

We are two short hours and a bridge away, but even with that safety net, there is fear. Tonight, my children are fighting sleep because they are afraid. And as one daughter said, “I never had something happen this close to me before in my life.” Even earlier in the evening, another daughter weathered a cramp in the side just to go for the walk that Husband and I take in the evenings to catch a bit of sun and fresh air. She didn’t want to be at home without an adult. And at bedtime tonight, there were a lot of questions. And many, many prayers. Lots more reassurances.

We have family in the triangle currently being cordoned off for the search effort. In talks with my Great Aunt this evening, her gentleman friend’s driveway was two over from the scene of one shocking tragedy last night. My Mom and Dad, traveling through the area yesterday, were on the very streets only three short hours earlier where the horror unfolded last evening. Second and third cousins warned by police to vacate the premises were thus unable to get down their streets to their homes. Little did they know that at that very moment, the unbelievable was happening.

This is real. And it is frightening.

And because it is real, it is hard to know what to say to the little ones who are fearful in my house tonight. We take comfort in knowing that there is one Wiser and Stronger than we are who holds the whole world in His loving hands. Who holds us together in those moments in life when we fall apart. Who has knowledge and understanding of all things and Who can keep us in His perfect peace as our mind’s are fixed on Him. But we are so frail and prone to our humanity; this is so real.

So close to home.

Pray for our men and women in uniform tonight. Our heroes. We are so grateful to the ones who put their own lives in harm’s way to protect the greater good. Pray for courage and for safety. Pray for a quick, swift end to this nightmare, a return once again to the peace we so often take for granted.

And may the Good and Right win out over the evil we have seen. An evil which some have tragically experienced.

And may justice prevail. As we know it will.

As we know it will.

‪#‎PrayForMoncton‬

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