Spend it all.

This is my new way of life: "spend it all". I am, of course, speaking figuratively. I am speaking in reference to writing (don't "save" ideas for a later writing session- it will never come), say those words of affirmation you are holding back, apologize now (don't save those, spend them) but, perhaps most emphatically, with prayer: spend it all. We only have enough grace for the moment not only do we not have more than we need, but we are also not given less than we need so, again, spend it all. All thoughts that lift our minds to God are gifts from the Holy Spirit waiting to be received and breathed, weaved, really, into our lives. It is only in spending that we will one day see what it is we are purchasing.

Wandering where the lions are

Maybe I take life too seriously but, for those who truly live, it can be exhausting! I don't really want to get into it (again) here but suffice it to say that in this life there is no shortage of opportunities where our integrity and commitment to intellectual honesty will be put to the test. If we have faith that what we believe is righteous and true, we should have no fear of dialogue, research and the earnest quest for knowledge and enlightenment (whether it be in the form of an ultrasound or otherwise). Those who have nothing to hide, hide nothing.

It's been a long day.

Give us this day our daily....emotions.

Each day, we pray the Our Father asking God to "give us this day our daily bread". Yesterday, it hit me that we aren't asking "give us this day all the bread we need for the rest of our lives". No, we are saying "please, Lord, only give me enough for today." I was so struck by this because I realized that the term "bread" extends so much further than straight-forward nutrition (which, thank you Lord hasn't failed me yet). But, this part of the prayer also refers to our daily dose of compassion, emotions, worry...we are asking the Lord: please, restrict the influx of my to-do list. Don't let it hit me all at once. Or, Lord don't allow me to think about my own suffering more than I can bear today. Only my daily bread, please.

Coming from a family that is no stranger to emotional suffering in the form of anxiety and depression, this is an especially poignant thought. I am painfully aware of my own fragility and of God's great mercy. "Please allow enough pain only for one day, Lord. No more (and also no less) than you think I need". I think about how I wish I could "care more" about certain worldly events. Then I ask myself, why? Why do I desire to fill my head and heart to overflowing with concern and worry? Instead, I pray (now): Father, not my will, but Yours be done. You know what needs attending and what can be left for tomorrow. You know when my heart can't take worrying about that certain family member or that social issue anymore. Then comes the guilt that I'm not doing enough; I look around and everyone else is giving (apparently) much more generously than I. The Lord doles out gifts as He wills. We must be open to not letting the gifts stop at us; they must keep going. However, the gift has to be there in the first place. We cannot give what we do not have. Others might have it in abundance, we must give thanks when we see them with these gifts but our gaze must immediately shift back to the giver. We must not be tempted into an empty activism; an activism that is motivated more by our own desire to feel important than our genuine desire to be the person God has in mind. When we are busy being who we think we should be, we are missing out on the truth of who we are.  +++

But enough about me...

Our last portrait of Baby M- circa 23 wks?

Over-thinker that I can be, I've been, per usual, torn and tormented about "how much is too much" sharing on Facebook. While Kevin and I want to rejoice in this pregnancy, I feel that some things are too sacred to be paraded around in front of say, 743 "friends".

Just under 27 weeks.

So, for me, my blog represents a slightly less more personal outlet. I'll share a bit more here for the sake of any family or friends who care enough to sit through the musings and meditations of a pregnant lady. Sometimes it's the hormones talking, sometimes it's me, but I'll leave the deciphering up to you!

For those who are just tuning in, welcome! I may just be the only 6'5" pregnant lady you will ever know. Because of my rare medical condition, Acromegaly, I've been under close watch by a team of specialists. Come to find out I am faring exceptionally well. I've had no noticeable swelling in my hands, feet, facial features (these symptoms are usually a sure sign of elevated growth hormone) and baby M is growing at a perfect pace. I would say this is because of the prayer warriors we've got on our side. Thanks to all of you for praying and please keep it up! I've only started to think about labour throughout the past few weeks and I've been mildly frightened by some of the stories and books I've encountered. Only mildly! On the other hand, I truly believe that God allows exactly what we need. Plus, I'm a tough tall girl!

Tiny Table, Pho and Undercover Boss

I think I've been watching too many "Undercover Boss" episodes. I try to overlook the fact that successfully masking a CEO's identity wouldn't work every time, especially as the show becomes more popular. But, nevertheless, I think the show has some really solid values at its core and it gets me every time. By "gets me, I mean I am a sobbing, pre-natal mess. It is really something. So last night's "Choice Hotels" episode and the focus on immigrant workers and their awe-inspiring work ethic really got me thinking.

This morning, as I was leaving a pre-natal appointment with my dietician, I noticed a big group of picketers outside of the Eastern Ontario Health Unit. I asked a woman nearby what all of the fuss was about. She told me that these people were angry because the EOHU has a bilingual hiring policy and they think it is discriminatory. I didn't get into it right there and then, but I tend to agree that the policy is somewhat discriminatory. In fact, most high-level public sector jobs in Ontario are stacked against uni-ligual Ontarians. Whether or not I think it's picket-worthy is another thing altogether. I didn't mention to the lady that I actually happened to be one of those people who applied for a communications job there but was not considered because of my lack of fluency in French. I guess it's par for the Ontario course.  No matter that I hold a Bachelor's degree from one of Canada's most prestigious schools, no matter that I've been writing (and published) since I was in high school or that I am comfortable on numerous multi-media platforms. It's all straw. My mama didn't raise parle-ing Francais (even though she is French through and through). One of the picketing signs said that only 4% of Ontario citizens were eligible for the jobs within the walls of the EOHU. If this is accurate, it really is unfortunate and I agree that the system does need some kind of overhaul. For example one person per staff (a linguist) responsible for translating while the other positions are based sheerly on ability and qualifications. Ah,well, c'est ca. In the meantime, what is the solution for exclusively-English-speaking go-getters who were not blessed enough to be born into a bilingual family? We need to work harder to secure work. We need to think about working minimum wage jobs (with hope for promotion) or look at entrepreneurial opportunities or, if all else fails, we need to hitch the next train out west. This is the Ontario work-force reality.

But, with that said, I've complained a little now it's time to move on.

I have a wonderful job! It's taking me a while to find my comfort level but I'm getting there. I made the big bad move into marketing and advertising. My new gig with the Local Seeker brings me everywhere and I meet some amazing people. So today, my work brought me to one of Cornwall's newest restaurant gems: "Tiny Table". For the good part of an hour, I got to sit with Obon, the owner, and feed off of her drive and all around passion for life.

Ubon, is the kind and vibrant wife in the husband-wife duo that has spearheaded this unique little resto. Being an immigrant from Thailand, she is used to EVERYTHING being stacked against her. She started at the very bottom here, worked several jobs simultaneously and polished her English (she speaks near-perfect English after 11 years here in Cornwall). She opened a highly-anticipated Thai restaurant and, after sinking her life's savings into the venture, had it prematurely fold as 4 other Thai restaurants simultaneously opened up in this too-small-to-be-a city city. So what did Ubon and her husband do? They picked up the pieces and saved up for another investment: a Vietnamese cuisine restaurant on 4th Street West in Cornwall. Their specialty? PHO! (You'll never look at soup the same way again).

I was so moved by her attention to detail, her resiliency and her optimism that I couldn't help to WILL myself to be more like her. When I commented on her amazing attitude, she turned to the Thai-inspired masks on the wall and said " I keep these masks here to remind me about the masks people wear." When I asked her to elaborate, she said that often times, people will treat you according to what you can do for them. She shared that being a visible minority and also a woman here gives her very little credibility here in Canada and people often write her off, assuming her to be unimportant. She said that once, she was showing an apartment on behalf of the landlord and the prospective tenants were incredibly disrespectful to her. They thought that since she couldn't possibly have the final word, so they could "take off their masks" with her and with that, she was "privileged" to witness their "mask-less" true colours. Little did they know of the level of decision-making power Obon had been given and just how deeply respected and trusted her perceptions were by the landlord. Masks. I told her it reminded me of a quotation I'd heard recently: "Our character is judged by the way we treat those who can do nothing for us." After quite a bit of talk along these lines, I asked her if she was familiar with Mother Teresa. Immediately, her eyes filled with tears. A light went on in my mind. Everything this woman had told me and demonstrated to me told me that she was a deeply spiritual person. Everything from the way she rose early to prepare the broth from scratch, "some businesses use Oxo cubes, but I don't want to feed my customers MSG or anything that is harmful to them- even if this way is harder", to the way she welcomed each new patron. She had mastered the "small things with great love" spirituality that was so perfectly embraced by Mother Teresa throughout her life.

We ended our meeting with a hug and the promise to connect again over  a bowl of Pho. I made a friend today and I learned so much more about life than I should be able to learn on a Wednesday afternoon at work. Oh, and I think I sold some ad space.

Are you running on fumes?

*** As always, the following reflections have helped me "come back to life". I only speak of them because they are lessons I needed (need).  I hope that they can help you find your own personalized path back to inspiration and awe. ***

The day began with a message from my brother-in-law and a visit to my downstairs bookshelf for inspiration.

The message from Ryan read: "What is something for which you are thankful, today?" To which I responded: "REAL people. These people give everyone permission to be real and I find that inspiring and refreshing". I love honesty and I love people who reflect and, in turn, get me reflecting.

This little exchange sent me into a privileged spiral of thought: what are the things that keep us ticking? The things that keep us "awake,  inspired,  grateful? I believe that these feelings drive the world forward and allow us to co-create with God, rooted in Faith, Hope and Love.

As human beings created in the image of God, a loving Father and the Author of Life, we are created for endless "inspiration", joy, love and gratitude. But, it takes effort to be happy in this life, we cannot coast our way into joy.

As a runner, my husband and I have found endless metaphors for life throughout our race training. If we want to run well, it requires discipline and DESIRE. I need to want my goal and I need to be willing to forsake my own comfort to get there. I can't wait for the perfect conditions because they will never come. Some runs leave me with blisters, some runs lead to pulled muscles, sometimes I eat too little before a run and I need to re-calibrate my distance. Sometimes I am dragging my butt and I just want to turn around. But, other runs leave me feeling invincible. Like I could run forever. These runs come at a high price and I would never experience them if I didn't put in the effort. The same goes for any life situation. Do you wish you felt more love for certain people in your life? Feed your love. Do you wish you had more Faith? Feed what little faith you have. Even just by doing one small thing, daily, with an open heart. One sentence spoken to God with "borrowed" Faith will do e.g. "I don't feel like you are close, but I know that You are near." Do you have certain project ideas that have been on hold since your youth because you are waiting for inspiration? Feed your inspiration. What would you say if I told you that you are not only post-poning your own happiness and joy but that the inspiration and well-being of others depends upon your attitude,  upon your desire to be happy. No man is an island, we are all connected.

Many refer to the ideas I have just presented as "good energy". While this terminology (and philosophy) falls devastatingly flat, there is some element of truth to it.  The Holy Spirit is given to those who ask for it. Throughout Scripture, those who wanted to be healed had to ask for it. If they were too weak to ask themselves, they got their friends to lower them through the roof to Jesus or they sent their family to ask for the healing. We might not need physical healing like these people but perhaps we need to "feel" something again. Perhaps our lives have become shadows of what they were. Perhaps we feel only half-alive. This, too is a type of illness needing healing. And that healing usually consists of feeding our Faith, Hope and Love because, for a long time, we've been running on fumes; approaching collapse. I think many times this collapse is referred to by the world as a "mental breakdown" or a "midlife crisis". Truth be told, I think many times it is simply the natural response to the Spirit's reserves running on empty.

I'm sad to say that many of us see it coming before it's too late but we neglect to give our Spirits the nourishment for which they beg. Are you thirsty for beauty? Seek it out like blood returns to the heart! Feed on it. Sit in an empty church, or if that takes too much time and effort initially, google beautiful images or photography that inspire awe! Awaken the awe in your heart. Ask God to return the awe of your childhood. Is it Faith that you lack? Listen to Mother Teresa give a talk as you wash the dishes. Read quotations that move you, write them on your desk post-its. It's not about empty activism, but instead, it's about caring for your spiritual health. "Doing", in and of itself, is meaningless. It is only when this "doing" is infused with love and flanked with prayer that it becomes holy and truly life-giving for others. This, I believe, is the true nature of work- it is not the doing that matters (or even the nature of the task), rather, it is how much love we pour into our work.  Let's ask to be renewed in love. The world needs love and only "open" and "real" human beings can bring that to the world.

MAY 1- Feast of St. Joseph the Worker

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Earlier in this post, I alluded to a book I recovered from our heavy-laden bookshelf early this morning. It was a book of life lessons from John Paul II and, because there are no coincidences and today is the Feast of St. Joseph the Worker, I opened to a page where JPII was reflecting on the meaning of work. He writes:

" For man and woman thus created and commissioned by God, the ordinary working day has great and wonderful significance. People's ideas, activities and undertakings-however commonplace they may be- are used by the Creator to renew the world, to lead it to salvation, to make a more perfect instrument of divine glory. " -Encyclical on Human Work (Laboren exercens), 1981, John Paul II

He's always right on.

Playing our hand well

I've always heard it said but it didn't really apply to me until today.
"You cannot change the cards you are dealt but a lot rides on how you play the hand..."

I grew up never making allowances for weakness. I'm learning that I spent a lot of years being a slave-driver to myself. I think today's lesson applies to all of us. I confused "making excuses" with acknowledgement. In acknowledging our weaknesses, we are NOT "giving in" or "giving up" we are equipping ourselves to the be the best possible version of ourselves. When we know ourselves, we know how we operate best and how to obtain the highest level of personal success. I'm ready to stop glancing over at the next girl and instead start looking more closely at my hand. I'm not (fill in your local super-woman's name here). I'm me. And the sooner I get on board with me, the better.

Up until very recently, some of my goals have proven to be unreasonable for my personality, my state in life, my finances and most importantly (and most relevant to this post) for my health.


By finally acknowledging that I have a disease that is, most likely, not going away (unless God decides otherwise, again) I am living in reality; and this up-until-now elusive reality has room for Jenna. I can make decisions that impact the course of my life for the better, I can surround the REAL Jenna by people of faith and hope. I can search out a work schedule that is healthy and fruitful. I can be gentle on myself and watch my body's outward signs carefully.

I began this new chapter by meeting a new friend, Julie, who also walks with the same disease as myself. We are, quite literally, 2 in nearly 2, 000, 000. We have a disease called Acromegaly and like Diabetes, it is an Endocrine disorder and its signs and symptoms must be monitored very closely. Unlike Diabetes, however, our disease was initially caused by a growth hormone- secreting tumour on the pituitary gland (brain tumour). I've had two surgeries and Julie has had one. I got the side-order of height with mine because I was pre-pubescent at the time of diagnosis while Julie was diagnosed later in her life (post-bone fusion). Our disease calls for vigilance because if left unchecked (without monthly injections) we face organ enlargement, bone changes, and a whole host of other ramifications ranging from digestive to dermal afflictions.

Julie and I with her children Devon and Sydney.

Both of us live beautifully full lives despite the "hand we've been dealt".  When I say "full" I don't mean living right up to the line of collapse, I mean full for us. I am newly married and my husband and I are training for my second half-marathon next month. Meanwhile, Julie is wife and also a mother (aka perma-marathoner) to two precious little ones and works three days a week in public health. St. Therese wrote about the different levels of sanctity and I think that carries over into our earthly lives as well. When it's all been said and done, a life lived well will be full. Whether it's a thimble-full, a barrel-full or a swimming pool-full. We will be filled to the brim.

"After her mother's untimely death when Therese was only four, her father and older sisters took over her instruction. Therese had a deep love of God and her sisters were patient in explaining the mysteries of heaven. At one point, her eldest sister Pauline had Therese get her father's large glass and her own small thimble and fill them both with water. "She asked me which one was fuller. I told her each was as full as the other and that it was impossible to put in more water than they could contain. [She] helped me understand that in heaven God will grant His Elect as much glory as they can take, the last having nothing to envy in the first." -Story of a Soul

As I told my husband today, I feel like I've turned over a new leaf; I'm ready to face the music and to make music with the instrument I've been given (to mix up the metaphor a bit). Life is certainly full of gifts and surprises.