It  never ends....life's challenges..... continue.

Went to a Parker meeting tonight and even though I was surrounded by Parker warriors and their body guards, I felt sick, My Parker got a hold of  my tongue and wouldn't let me even smile.

Came home read my email and was reminded of our story - that hit the newspaper again -  still tied up in the court system -- never ending.  I had to forgive again.

Then I watched the video of my interview with Kate Bowler - and I look dreadful.. My story sounded unbelievably sad.. and I laughed when I should have cried.

The only good thing is the robin that cones to my window every day -- and watches me. I was starting to get worried about him. Doesn't he have a life?- I wondered. Today his beak was full of twigs - so that was good, But he did leave a white sting of something on the window. After coming and hanging around for a whole week - he's left quite a mess. 

I told my sister about him - and she reminded me that our mother loved robins! She would compete with everyone to be the first to see a robin in spring. 

It's Mother's Day  week,

This year I will remember my mother in a special way. She did life well. She carried her Parker with style and grace. She inspires me today! 

Recently  I had a conversation with someone who has shown remarkable resilience..... I asked her how she did it... This was her answer....

"I  made a decision early in life. I remember being about fourteen, walking with someone who told me,  'I'm just an angry person. My dad was angry. My grandfather was angry. It’s just who we are. People just have to get used to it.'

Something in me resisted that.

It’s not that I was an angry person—or wasn’t. It’s that I decided at that point not to let any emotion define who I am. That was the turning point for me. I realized: I get to choose.

I get to choose whether I live as a happy person or a sad one.

I get to choose whether anxiety defines me or not.

I get to choose whether I live in contentment or in unrest.

Emotions matter—I don’t dismiss them. They are important. They signal something. They are indicators. But they are not always telling the truth. Sometimes they come from the stories we tell ourselves, not from reality.

So I made a decision early on: I will not let my feelings rule me.
I am not a victim. I choose.

And for me, this way of living is deeply tied to faith.

There were moments—when everything felt fragile. In those moments, I would say, over and over: “God, You are sovereign. I trust You.”

At first, I didn’t even fully believe it. But I kept saying it. I was reminding myself, not informing God. Slowly, it became real to me: if God is sovereign, then He is over this situation too. So I began to ask a different question: “What is wise in this moment?”

That question changed everything. It created a pause—a space between emotion and action. A place where I could choose wisely instead of reacting impulsively.

Looking back, I think I made some of these decisions very early in life. I decided the kind of person I wanted to become. I chose the values I would live by.

Things like:

• Surround yourself with people  who are an example of what you want to become.
• Pay attention to wisdom.
• Choose your responses, don’t inherit them.

Those choices shaped me.
And they still do.

What a beautiful life....! 

There are two things a person should never be angry at, what they can help, and what they cannot. - Plato

Well that didn’t work. Focussing on Parker and lifestyle changes only threw me into a more negative space.  I have a lot of good things outside of Parker.

I think by making my pain the main character I was concentrating on the wrong part of the problem. I can look for solutions I can find things that they can easily the problem nourishes the problem it has a problem makes the problem grow. I can concentrate on the good things ... like the beautiful family I am living with – the good food, the good conversations and the wisdom…And then there is God –always bringing in the presence of love,

So this morning, I phoned my  sister.

I know when she’s doing  her Bible studies in the morning,  I asked her, “What is God saying to you today?”
She paused, then said something that caught me off guard.

“I’m not supposed to focus on the sacrifices,” she said. “I’m supposed to thank God for the troubles of the day… and call on Him in the middle of them.” She was reading Psalm 50:15: Call on me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you will honor me.

The message was not to avoid the trouble. Parker is always there. 
But not to analyze it endlessly.
We can meet it with gratitude—and ask for help.

I asked her what “troubles” she was facing.
She mentioned a few ordinary things—aches, the small indignities of aging.

And then, almost sheepishly, she told me about a woodpecker that wakes her up in the morning. “I can’t see him,” she said, “but he’s there… pecking. And I don’t have a gun.”

That led to another story—magpies on the farm, when she was a young mother. She had actually placed a gun, fully intending to deal with them in the morning. She never did.

And suddenly we were both laughing—really laughing. Magpies and woodpeckers - little Parkers.
At the absurdity.
At the honesty.
At how trouble can be both real and ridiculous at the same time.
​
And somewhere in that image, there was a strange  and a kind of joy--
a sense that I could be in charge again.
Not of everything.
But of where I place my attention.
And that… changes the story.

If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change. – Wayne Dyer

​Parker doesn’t let me sleep -  well I fixed that…

Every Sunday morning, attending church  I couldn’t help notice how often people in the pews would drift off to sleep so when I found myself not being able to sleep, I would turn on the radio – T.V and now the computer to listen to a sermon.

When I moved to Winkler. I’ve been quite open about my addiction to Jordan Petersen –speaking style - as a sleeping pill. I simply loved the way he would use a simple Bible story to explore a profound truth. Listening to him was like floating on a while cloud watching a high wire dance spinning thoughts and issues into the air and then catching them with a dramatic flair – breath taking. I don’t think I will ever tire of him. But every once in a while, in the middle of the night I will wake up to a new speaker. And this is the way I found myself listening to John Lenox about two weeks ago…
He too is brilliant. But he explores the Creation story in a new way and can actually debate atheists by proving God exists – with a confidence that I have never heard before.

Because he is a Professor of Mathematics (emeritus) at Oxford University and an internationally renowned speaker on the interface of science, philosophy, and religion he brings a unique insight to his exploration of the relationship between science and Christianity.

Recently I heard him take on the challenge of the most difficult question that we all have to face – eventually. Where is God in Suffering?

This one did not put me to sleep…

He began .. “It is one of the most difficult questions that any of us face, whether we're Christians, whether we're atheists, agnostics, or whatever particular worldview we have. We're all faced with the questions of pain and of suffering.

Then he continued. “…And the first thing is, of course, there are two problems here. There's the problem of moral evil, 9/11, for instance. And there's the problem of natural evil, ebola, for instance. Those are logically distinct problems…

He elaborates. “Is he, that is God, willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then is he impotent? Is he able but not willing? Then is he malevolent? Is he both able and willing, whence then this evil?"

He continues...."People looking at this mixed signal that the universe sends to us often become atheists."

Or - as i have often seen -  continue as Christian but become angry with God - an anger that kills their love and their faith….
 
Lennox 's conclusion is that God took a risk in making this world - and continues in this risk because God loves us….
Other people have said much the same – but somehow Lennox says it more convincingly than I have ever heard it.
At the end of his talk, he illustrates God’s love by exploring his relationship with his wife.

I think about love. I think about Cliff.

Then I have another insight - Did God fall in love with Adm and Eve on their Garden walks in the evening. Did he experience the kind of love like Cliff and I had?

And suddenly the answer to the question Where is God in Suffering? makes sense again. God loves us – God needs love – created a setting for love to happen – and now is suffering with us. It is a love story.

I actually forgive Parker for my sleepless nights. intolerable most of the time, This theological trip that I’ve been on with Peterson that resulted in me discovering Lennox .....
​
 The Loud Absence: Where is God in Suffering? | John Lennox at Harvard Medical School.
Thttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MPm6Y-pANYI

The next day I met another Winkler friend for coffee at Mulligans again. Her husband is also living with Parkinson’s.
I tell her about my intention to begin blogging about my experience. But this time, I don’t want to just complain about it   I want to turn it into an adventure story—perhaps even fictionalizing it - changing names, inventing characters, blending experiences so that people aren’t recognizable or retraumatized.

“I’m even thinking of renaming Parkinson’s,” I say. “Maybe I’ll call it Parker—something I can say without flinching.”
She laughs. “Perfect.”

Then we start talking about the other characters in this Parker community. There are the faithful caregivers. How will they be portrayed? What name should I give them?

She laughs again. “What about Polly?”  She explains - because it hints of at Pollyanna attitude—that hopeful, sometimes naïve idea that they can be perfect caregivers.  She smiles. “We are always patient, always wise, always strong.”

Then I begin describing another character in this new life plot. The one I keep wrestling with. The one I call God who plays a different role in this new challenge. I wonder about naming him the Elephant.

But why the name Elephant? An elephant is intelligent. It remembers. It carries weight. It travels long distances. It moves slowly but deliberately. The elephant in the room can be a real but unseen presence.

Both of us know the story of the six blind men coming upon an elephant. They feel their way around the elephant’s tusk, tail, side, and ear, and they draw different conclusions about what an elephant is. The blind man holding the tail says, “An elephant is like a snake.” The one with the tusk says, “An elephant is like a spear.” The one by the side says, “An elephant is like a wall.” And so on. There is freedom in that story – there is one God – huge – and we will all experience him differently.

And just then—while we are talking about this elephant— the restaurant background music starts playing the song by Chris Tomlin, "Holy Forever." 

The words fill the room.

They fill our souls.
 
And the angels cry, “Holy”
All Creation cries, “Holy”
You are lifted high, holy
Holy forever

The restaurant has turned into a sanctuary. We remind ourselves that we are.in a golf course restaurant on a weekday morning… which just makes it all the more unexpected – more special.

This time my tears come out of a sense of awe. It is truly a God moment.

When a man lives with God, his voice shall be as sweet as the murmur of the brook and the rustle of the corn. -  Ralph Waldo Emerson
​

My Winnipeg friend sensed I was shutting down. When I admitted that I was having trouble expressing myself - finding words, she said. “Maybe you should blog about it. In the past when you faced enormous challenges you defeated them by exposing them – and we all benefited from your honesty.”

I stiffened. “What do you mean you benefitted?”

She smiled. “When you found yourself filled with rage, you told us that you wanted to kill ten child murderers – and then you went so far as to tell us that pulling the trigger felt delicious – like eating chocolate cake. We need that kind of honesty.”

I ponder her words. I know– I have used my blogging to process my life. It seems I can’t move on until I’ve put my truth into words – whatever truth it is. Some truths are beautiful – some are lovely – some are a bit scary.

Then today I met with another friend at Mulligans here in Winkler. Her husband has Parkinson’s disease and I find her experience with Parkinson's invaluable.  We started talking—she asks me how I am doing —and something in me cracked open.

And I cried. I cried and I cried some more,

Not polite tears. Not composed tears. These tears flowed out of me like snowmelt in spring—cold, clear, ancient. They bubbled up from somewhere deep inside of me.  

My Winnipeg friend might be right. I am in not in control - I am either shutting down or bubbling out of control.
But should I blog about this? I know I used to blog when we were going through the court trials – it was a way of keeping my family and supporting friends informed. But this is somehow different.

This is cellular. This is my own body shifting beneath me. This is pure body trauma.

And I’m not ready for this. thing...  I’m not ready for tremors and timelines and the way people’s eyes shift when they hear the name of my illness.

And yet--the tears tell me something.
Silence is no longer protection. Silence is pressure.

Maybe it’s time to talk about my truth – my dreadful truth.

I'm going to blog. That means I'm just going to say whatever comes to mind   - post 5 days a week -  and see what I come up with.  But this time I'm going to also publish one of  Cliff's  "Still Life" photographs -  he took so many and they will  add beauty to this journey I am on - and we will need as much beauty as we can get. 
​
No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.”― Robert Frost
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Photo by: Cliff Derksen