Today has been a low energy kind of day. I had a list (I keep a little note book on the counter where I can write notes or grocery lists so that I don't forget.) of things I could and wanted to do, but I realized in the end that all felt overwhelming and what I actually needed was a nap. A sweet friend offered to take my daughter for the morning so I was able to have a nap this morning. I am realizing more and more that what I am feeling might be like a type of burn-out...not from ministry per say but from life and all that has happened in the last 9 and a half months. So today was a gift when a wonderful lady from our church showed up with food for supper, along with a few trays of food to freeze. My church has been sweet with setting me up to get a couple of meals a week. This has been so helpful, especially on days like today. My last round of antibiotics finished today and I still feel the infection is there. Now I wonder if I am struggling to even absorb the antibiotics. Nothing new in the medical department, still waiting on getting into specialists.
I find my brain is still slow at processing. The other day I was at our local Co-op and I forgot my Co-op number. The girl who looked up my number actually gave me the wrong number so I used that for a few times, feeling like it wasn't the right number but I couldn't remember the original one. Thankfully the problem is getting dealt with. Today was Awana night. I read the email that comes out for parents and thought tonight was the night the kids were supposed to dress up as their favorite Bible Hero. So I helped them put together costumes, only to realize pretty last minute that it is for next week, not this week. Numbers and dates seem to be hard to remember for me these days.
My son has started to open up more and ask more questions about my cancer and about if I was afraid I was gonna die, and about some of the worries he has had. Both kids continue to figure out how to fit into the culture here. My son made the observation about how the country we just moved from is a HOT climate culture. People are in your space, they touch you all the time, they are very hospitable and friendly and don't like to leave you alone. He's observing how Canadian culture is more like a Cold climate culture. It's not that it's a bad thing, it's just different. Thankfully our little town feels kinds hot climate culturish at times to me. There are many firsts for my son. Taking French class, learning sign language (all of which his class has already been doing for a couple of yrs already) and learning how to curl. He didn't grow up on ice like kids here in Canada do. Every day the kids still ask to move back "home" and want to be with their friends. You know the saying, "The grass is greener on the other side?" My son struggled to adjust to our life and the culture of the country we learned to call "home." But when it was time to move back he suddenly realized how much it felt like home there, how he didn't want to move and how amazing his friends and community were. There is a new family in town who moved to our little community from a European country. She was sharing the other day about her kids struggles in school and their adjusting to a new country/town etc. I so could relate. It's hard to adjust when you don't have the language when you move to a new place. It's also hard to come back and even though you have the language, people change and so does the town. It's a lot to have to relearn all over again. I continue to value all the prayers being sent up on our behalf and I am thankful that my kids are verbally processing all their emotions and feelings that they are sorting through in this season. Please keep praying!
And now I want to continue to share my story....
I became a Christian when I was 4 shortly after we moved into our new house. I remember being tickled on the floor by my aunt who was not a Christian. Suddenly, and seemingly out of now where, to her surprise, I stood up and declared that I wanted to become a Christian. My dad was in the basement painting and so my mom told me to go talk to him. I don't remember the full conversation but I remember that was the day that I confessed my sins and my need for Jesus and I decided I wanted to follow Him for the rest of my life.
Up until I went to Kindergarten I was known as Becky. It wasn't until one day, when I was given a note from my teacher to take to my parents, that I began to read it on the way home and realized she wrote my name as starting with and R instead of a B. So I asked my mom why this was. She went on to explain that my real name was Rebekah. So for the rest of the week at school I refused to answer my teacher whenever she called me Becky. When asked why I did this I simply explained, "My name is Rebekah, it's not Becky!" And ever since then I prefer to NOT be called Becky.
Due to the nature of some things I can't write everything that has happened in my life for just anyone to read. For some of the more defining and personal stories that happened to me, it will have to be shared with my little family as they are old enough to hear it. Let's just say I am who I am because of the years of being able to walk through some tough stuff, all the while learning how to forgive and move forward.
I was a small and determined little girl. Some would say I was strong-willed. I was pretty black and white and bold in my faith. I loved Jesus and I wasn't afraid to tell others about Him. I remember being about 7 and one night my parents were watching a movie with some friends. It was a movie based on the book of Revelation (the last book in the Bible) called, "A Thief In The Night." I woke up because I heard the T.V. on and I walked into the living room to watch a bit. It was the part where the Christians were being beheaded for their faith. However my little mind at the time thought it was that one would get their head cut off if they didn't become a Christian. Talk about a heavy thing to see as a little kid. I had lots of questions after that and that experience. Sure it gave me some nightmares and sleepless nights at first, but it also grabbed my heart with a burden for those people who don't have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. I went to school that week and gathered about 5 of my friends together in the middle of the school field and strongly encouraged them to give their lives to Jesus so that they didn't get their heads cut off. Ok my theology was way off at the time and thankfully I have a better understanding of the tribulation that is to come and a great respect and love for the last book of the Bible, Revelation. I have a great respect for all of the Bible! It's God's Word, living and active and TRUTH!
In elementary school, my principle at the time had called my mom to tell her to ask me to stop gathering kids at the flag pole to pray for the school. I didn't want to. I was a little fire ball, evangelist who wanted all my family and friends to be saved. It wasn't easy being told by certain people, closely associated with our family, that I was brain washed by my parents when I would ask if I could pray at their supper table. Or when they would call me and tell me that I couldn't give their kids Bibles or talk about God with them. It was hurtful. And only just a little taste of persecution that my brothers and sisters in Christ in the persecuted churches face all over the world. Yet that didn't stop me. My faith was important to me. I got a little name card when I was a kid that had a verse on it under my name. 1 Corinthians 15:58, "So my dear brothers and sisters, be strong and immovable. Always work enthusiastically for the Lord, for your know that nothing you do for the Lord is ever useless." No matter how tough life got and how dark seasons felt I never fully could abandon my Lord and my faith. By His grace He held me together and helped me be immovable. Those teenage years were tough, well growing up in my town as a whole was tough and I often felt alone in my faith, but thankfully He carried me through. More on that at a later time.
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