Good Things: Family, Church Family, and Connectedness

I’m on a day off, it’s raining, and my home is emptied of family who might ridicule the dancing, singing, shrieking, running around in circles, and gorging that takes place on my days off. Life is good. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the weather we’ve had in the past week, with alternating stretches of insane heat (or what I’d classify as insane heat, at least) and respites of rain. One of the coolest things about May is the fact that all of the bud-petals, seeds, and leaves floating down from trees remind me of confetti, and there have been a couple of days whilst walking home from work that I felt like I’d just won a car on a reality TV show, there was so much organic confetti. Although all of the allergens drifting down cause me to develop a runny nose, irritated eyes, and heavy eyelids if allergy meds are forgotten, taking in the sight of mini-UFOs taking flight through my neighbourhood pleases me immensely. Of course, all of this loveliness is set against a backdrop of the beautiful Alberta sky in this fair month, where the clouds resemble delicious cotton candy or brush strokes applied with watercolours. I was cloud-gawking on Monday afternoon and considering the clouds’ likenesses to various man-made things, and it was rather odd because I tend to look for the un-synthetic in the synthetic, but when I look at nature I often look for things that remind me of man-made things. I can easily imagine myself considering how my dad and sister’s watercolour brushstrokes and cotton candy from the Folk Fest were reminiscent of clouds.

Superficially, this struck me as strange because I rarely just look at the clouds and simply ponder how lovely clouds are for more than a couple of minutes; instead, after a while of liking the clouds for themselves, I feel the urge to look for reminders of other beautiful things. I suppose that this is because it’s amazing to see the links between everything in life. I really love existentialism, nihilism, and other strange philosophies that make contemplating life and the universe rather enjoyable, and philosophy obviously has a great deal to say about all the things that make up life and the universe, and their connectedness. My favourite film with an emphasis on all things philosophical is I Heart Huckabees, which deals with the blanket theory, an idea that everything is the same, but different, and to a certain extent I certain feel that that’s accurate. This is God’s creation after all, and we can look for Him in everything, though it’s also all too evident at times that the things of this world aren’t perfect and God’s supreme above all the sin-caused ugliness that things are tarnished by. It’s exceedingly fun to personify nature, to picture my grandpa’s hair as a rain cloud, and to recognize what a blessing it is to be able to love everything because it’s all the same. As Ben Gibbard croons, “there are different names for the same thing.” When I look for the good in everything, it usually makes itself pretty apparent.















The outdoors have additionally been quite exquisite this month with the sunrises that have greeted me on days when I work at 5:30. Not only have the colours been gorgeous and muted, but the clouds have at times gathered around the emerging sun and allowed the light to scatter in a most peculiar fashion. Last Monday, I ended up looking at the wrong work schedule and mistakenly believed that I was scheduled for the 5:30 shift, which allowed me to walk around the river valley at for an hour as I enjoyed the trees, an especially stunning sunrise, the delightful voice of Sam Beam of Iron & Wine, my favourite cheese buns from Bee Bell, and the oddity of my customers driving to the café honking at me repeatedly completely unbeknownst to me. As one would expect, I find the sunrise far more savour-able when I’m not having to observe it because of work; it’s far more delightful when I’m voluntarily staying up to take in its excellence. This, of course, is because we enjoy things much more when they’re not obligatory, and we at least have the perception that they’re done of our own accord. In my dearest psychology, we refer to the phenomenon of people enjoying something more when it is intrinsically, rather than extrinsically, rewarded as the over-justification effect. We love to have explanations of our behaviour, and enjoy believing that our behaviour is rational. When we already have the explanation of that extrinsic reward for a behaviour, we may not experience the intrinsic reward of that very behaviour. However, when the behaviour isn’t rewarded, its own capacity to reward is clearer. When I’m walking to work at 5:15, I subconsciously explain the fact that I’m outside in the cold before anyone else has awoken to see the sun with the money that I’ll earn by going to work. When I’m walking simply because I want to at 5:15, I explain the fact that I’m outside with the sun with my desire to enjoy the peace of the morning and the uniqueness of the outdoors’ splendour early in the morning. I think this over-justification effect is important to keep in mind because so often I, as a Christian, can tend to do things out of a sense of duty and obligation instead of a love of pleasing God. Rather than doing something to avoid guilt and castigation, I need to act out of what and who I love. Whether it’s tithing, speaking to someone at church who no one else talks to, doing something kind when no one’s watching, or just praying, it’s so much more enjoyable to do these things out of a love of doing them rather than a perceived requirement to do them.






















I’ve posted some random photos from the last week in the greatly underused procrastination blog Tiac, though I’m really too lethargic to add any captions to them, so while perusing them it would be wise to look to the photo titles for elucidation on what on earth was going on when the photograph was taken. A large bulk of the pictures are from my lovely grandparents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary celebrations this past weekend, which was celebrated with an open house and program at Zion (my old church!), a family dinner at my auntie and uncle’s place, Sunday dinner, and a BBQ accompanied by some super-sweet hockey. Though I am quite idealistic about nearly everything and everyone that I love, my grandma and grandpa are truly the best people I’ve ever known. I’ve blogged about them previously, so I’ll keep my musings about them to a minimum, but it was so touching to see how much their lives have touched those of the people around them. On Saturday, numerous people referred to Grandma and Grandpa as their adopted parents, which is extremely true. They’ve always made a point of reaching out to people who are lonely, struggling, or in need of support, which has often translated into university students from church coming to every Sunday dinner as part of our family and even being a part of the Toller Christmas festivities at times. Both of them are insanely generous with their time and money, and my grandpa’s retirement from being a pastor at Zion a few years ago is a complete joke; they haven’t stopped working for a second.

Whether they’re visiting residents of a nursing home, allowing their house to be home to friends and family, cooking the massive and notoriously vegetable-laden Sunday dinner, leading a Bible study, or just lending an ear and shoulder to a friend, their love for God and His children is constantly manifest. While their love has been so encouraging and uplifting to so many, it’s also borne witness to God’s work in their lives, and they’ve served as amazing role models. I can’t remember either of them saying anything negative about anyone besides Casey Printers (the vile football player) and perhaps Hitler; I’m sure they have, but they’re far more likely to disparage themselves. When I consider what wonderful people they are, and how self-deprecating they can often be despite the great admiration that they garner from others, I’m challenged to live with the same humility and selflessness. Both of them are very gentle, never speaking loudly, using harsh words, or requiring dramatics to make a point, which makes them people who others love to confide in and glean wisdom from. Because my grandpa is perhaps the least aggressive man I’ve ever known, and I know a disproportionate amount of non-aggressive guys, he’s tremendous company at football games where he feels sympathy for the greatly abused refs and remains optimistic even when a win is unmistakably unachievable. Likely my favourite trait of my grandparents’ is their empathy; no matter who the person, they never fail to make a concerted effort to take another’s perspective, care deeply about others, and act altruistically even for someone who might not seem to deserve compassion. I really am so far from coming close to their example, but I’m so thankful to God that I have them in my life, and that I can strive to be remotely like them in how I live out my faith.















I’ve also put up some pictures of rain/playground fun with Jess, softball madness from last night, and funny faces. My beloved Bethany (the magnificent stunner with the long blond hair and dazzling tonsils) was even the photographer behind all of the odd Cait-funny-faces pictures except for one. This was quite the achievement for her since she tends to push buttons and erroneously believe she’s taken a picture when all she’s done is turn the flash off or change the exposure. I’ve known Bethany since she was born, and she’s my favourite friend under the age of 10. I’ve taught her Sunday School, played Barbies and house with her, discussed boys with her, observed her rapid loss of teeth (the natural kind, not the Smyth-hockey kind), spent countless hours laughing at her dog Blossom, and been unbelievably silly with her. She’s superbly inane with me, and very creative in our fun together; at times she’s far too energetic for me, and she often yells at Jess, SJ, and I for being lazy. I even posted a picture of us having a joke-fight at church; I’d obviously called her Dude or Bethany of Gesthemane (she despises my monikers for her) or discussed my love of vegetables. Jess and I have been friends with Bethany’s sister for ages, and their family is one of the many from Zion who we miss unimaginable, über-crazy amounts. My achievement of the weekend was going to Zion twice and only shedding a few tears during the DVD that was made about them (it also makes me laugh hysterically), and in the speeches that followed.

Thankfully, God’s placed our family at the most magnificent McKernan (alliteration possibilities for McKernan abound), and I even got to use my Zion Lions slow-pitch cheering abilities last night for some of the McKernan softball stars, though softball cheering does seem to be far different from slow-pitch cheering. No “good eye” cheers can really be used since the pitcher and batter are on the same team, and Jess wasn’t there to perform the “Gerry-Gerry-Bo-Berry,” “Brrr, It’s Cold in Here,” “De-Johninator,” or “Pastor Ron” cheers; I suspect that she will be dragged to a game this summer. But McKernan managed to tie Highway, which was rather thrilling coming from a church where winning was always an added bonus to the fun of playing a game, likely because winning so rarely occurred. Soon, football will arrive to outshine any of the fun I have while watching hockey and softball, and Jess will never need to be convinced to attend games, or even cheer (her enthusiasm for the Oilers is too subdued in my opinion). If anyone has seen an Eskimos scarf being sold somewhere, perhaps on the Black Market, I beg you again to notify me; it would complement my foam finger hand and pom-poms quite nicely. Cheer unusually hard for the Oilers tonight, and as Kristi from work would advise you, get out those brooms, because we’ll be doing some sweeping tonight!

Things to Blog About this Summer
- politics and oil for Dusty (this needs to be an essay)
- money, giving money, money belonging to God
- politics and empathy
- New York City
- football
- Stephen Harper
- sleep (a full-fledged entry on it)

Injurious Objects that Have Injured My Feet Recently
- vacuum cleaner
- stairs
- high-heels on Whyte (this was the worst; it scraped the nail polish off of my toes)
- chairs
- sidewalks
- rocks
- power cords
- hot water (not really an object, but injurious nonetheless)

Things I Miss About Zion
- friends (more properly called my family)
- running around the church while yelling and stealing people’s coats accidentally
- doing the overheads
- Sunday School
- Searching for Ernie the Ant
- choir practices
- Bible studies in Lisa’s living room
- the informality
- knowing everyone and their middle name at church
- fellowship group
- foosball (I was Foosbal Queen at Zion; I miss it!)
- ping-pong (unlike foosball, I essentially never won a single game of ping-pong)
- being friends with my pastor and youth pastor
- composing songs
- choreographing dances
- jaunts to Kensington Food Market (I miss the Happy Pop!)
- Matt and Anna’s baking after the service
- hanging out with literally every person under the age of 20 in the church
- Ebenezer Sunday
- Christmas and Easter services
- having reminders of my childhood around me

Things I Love About McKernan
- being 30 seconds away
- Saturday nights with C&Cers
- Pastor Lyle’s sermons
- cinnamon buns (I’m basically addicted at this point)
- “mailboxes”
- being one of the only ones who thinks Jack Layton is crazy-cool
- Powerpoint (though I miss overheads immensely)
- psychoanalyzing the sign in front of the church with Jess
- gas stoves
- how every singe person gets a bulletin
- not going to church with my family every Sunday (really weird, but quite refreshing too; yay for three services!)
- brown connector books
- being mock-greeted by my parents
- not having to ever do announcements, serve Communion, or pass around the offering plates
- observing Niesha’s latest shoe find
- going to church with people roughly my age (the closest was three years younger at Zion)
- making faces at Jess when she sings
- having some anonymity (useful for when pulling pranks or going incognito)
- disposable Communion cups
- brilliantly virtuoso harmonica-playing