"Fear knocked at the door, Faith answered and nobody was there."

This is a quote often said at my meetings. I am not sure where it originated from, but it is a quote that has worked for me these past few months while I haven't been well enough to go to them. When I first heard this said I thought it sounded crazy, I didn't get it. I get it now though. When I am fearful, I am pushing faith out of my sight and out of my thoughts. For me, fear comes in many forms. Fear of more illness, not only of myself but for the people I love. Fear of abandonment, financial insecurity, not knowing what lies ahead in tomorrow, fear of yesterdays' skeletons falling out of the closet and so on.

When I focus on fear, it rules my life. It tears away ambition, kind actions or thoughts. It creates resentments, jealousy and anger. I begin to doubt my life, my friends and my family's intentions. It can change how I feel and react about most things, which under normal circumstances would not bother me. It throws me in a deep, dark well with no way out. The incessant droning of negative thoughts drives me mad. Then it comes. Like a gentle wave, or a soft breeze. Renewal of faith. A phone call from a friend in the program, a kind word, good news from the doctor, relief of symptoms left over from an illness, ability to hold my children, laugh, cry, accept and feel at peace with what is going on around me. Faith answered when fear was pounding down my door. This is my life lesson. Everyday I need to remind myself that God has laid down his plan for me that day. All that is required of me, is to ask God for acceptance, courage, wisdom and especially the strength to carry it out. Today, I have a choice. It can be a good day, or a bad day. I can choose to look at my yesterday's as failures, or lessons. Tomorrow is too uncertain for specific plans, but for today I know God will give me the strength to endure as long as I am willing to ask for help. This is a piece of prose read at most of my meetings, it helps me when I feel overwhelmed. I wanted to share this with anyone who is interested. It has helped me many times to stay in the now, in today. As Ray Charles delicately phrased it "Live everyday like it's your last, because one day you'll be right."

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow

author unknown

"There are two days in every week about which we should not worry,

two days which should be kept free from fear and apprehension.

One of those days is Yesterday, with it's mistakes and cares it's faults and blunders, it's aches and pains.

Yesterday has passed forever beyond our control. All the money in the world cannot bring back Yesterday.

We cannot erase a single word we said we cannot undo a single act we performed.

Yesterday is gone.

The other day we should not worry about is Tomorrow, with it's possible adversities, it's burdens, large promise and poor performance.

Tomorrow is also beyond our immediate control. Tomorrow's sun will rise, either in splendor or behind a mask of clouds but it will rise.

Until it does, we have no stake in tomorrow for it is yet unborn.

This leaves only one day, Today.

Anyone can fight the battles of just one day.

It's only when you and I add the burdens of those two awful eternities,

Yesterday and Tomorrow that we break down.

It's not the experience of today that drives us mad.

It is remorse or bitterness for something which happened yesterday and the dread of what Tomorrow may bring

Let us therefore live but one day at a time."

I've heard it said that a picture is worth a thousand words, so here's four. Hopefully they can make up for the month and a half I've been ill, and mostly unable to write. The top left picture is of my family. In the middle, our children Rachael and Robbie, and on the right well, life is a party, live it up!

The picture here on the left is of Rachael in one of four of her halloween costumes, here she is most decidedly Princess Ariel "as a human!"

On Remembrance Day..............
How can I honour those to died for my freedom? How can I remember? I have not lived in times of war, nor have I seen the devastating effects of it. I haven't lived through the hardship of losing or leaving loved ones behind because of war. In school I didn't really understand the magnitude or depth of sacrifice these men and women made. How could I?
I was lucky to feel well enough to take my children to the remembrance Day Service, accompanied by my Dad. As my daughter sang the national anthem with everyone, she would point out and tell people where the Canadian and the Ontario flags were. She proudly announced to many people in the large crowd that she lives in Canada.
We watched as the ambulatory elderly Vets proudly walked by in a parade of sorts, listened to bagpipes, drums and watched as a WW2 plane flew overhead at 11 am. It was a sunny, beautiful and cold day. A great day for it's cause. Many peope were gathered in Memorial Park.
As we sang O Canada, I tried my hardest to think of what it must have been like for mothers, wives, daughters, fathers, husbands and sons to watch their loved ones leave and not know if they were going to come back. I can only imagine. Then I wept, gently. I began thinking about how much I take my freedom for granted.
I am completing my placement for college at a retirement home. Through this placement, I know some of the aged men and women who served this country. Some are now confined to wheelchairs, who are misunderstood and neglected. Some of the few who have been forgotten, sometimes by their own families, but also by my generation, and the one that follows. By their country. Except for one day of the year. Is this fair? It has really made me think. What can I do? How can I remember? How can I honor the people who fought for this country's freedom? For my freedom? My families' freedom? One thing I intend to do is learn more about the WW1 and WW2, and teach my own children to be respectful, proud and grateful for all of the things we often take for granted. As much as I'd like to, I cannot change the world. I know, however, that I can change my little part of it. I was telling my 4 year old daughter Rachael that to live in Canada makes her one of the luckiest people in the world. At that time I realized how much I can (and do) learn from trying to teach my children right and moral things. Today I am grateful for freedom of choice, freedom to vote, freedom to have an education.

I am proud to be Canadian.

Part Four...........

Before I begin, I would like to thank all of you for keeping us in your thoughts and prayers. It has been a tremendously difficult strain on this family for the past few weeks. Although I am now Mono-free, the after effects are still quite debilitating.

Anyway, within minutes of us getting home from the hospital, we left the children in the care of my parents, Connie and Rob. Off we went to make our new home asthma proof. Looking back, I realize that only God lead us through this blinding task. My parents lovingly opened their doors to us and looked after the kids everyday while Dylan, his brother, my extended family, my sponsor, and a good friend of mine helped us surmount the seemingly insurmountable.

I think it took about a month or so, before we were able to move home. It happened so fast, and was so stressful, I don't remember most of it really. I do remember, midway into it I was still working part time at a nursing home. I was working the night shift, and just before we were to leave, a bomb threat was called in. We were instructed by our superiors to 'search for anything suspicious' and 'in every room and hallway'. As it turns out, and obviously, it was nothing more than a threat. However, in the midst of everything going on with Robbie and the renovations, I had tried to stay strong, not feel the emotions or feel them at a more appropriate time, maybe when I had more time, once things got done...........

but once I thought my life was in danger, and that I may never see my family again, I broke down.

Completely.

Broken.

Defeated by life.

Beaten down.

Once I got home I collapsed into an almost violent tremble, I couldn't speak, I could hardly hear, tears were almost projectile. My mom made me some tea, and Dylan held me close. My daughter Rachael wanted to know what was happening. The last thing that I wanted was for her to see me in such a state. It was like all of the hurt and pain reared its head at once and I couldn't stand the pain anymore.

It soon passed, and I fell ito a deep sleep.

When I awoke, it was like it never happened. I quickly gathered what I needed for the day, and went ot my house to get more done.

After we moved back home, things were slowly coming together. I was and continue to learn about asthma. I of course had some sleepless nights in the Emergency room because I thought Robbie was having another attack. Only once since then has robbie been really sick and needed prednisone, and that was about a month or two ago. We have since been to the Asthma clinic and Robbie has changed one of his puffers, and is also on an oral medication. Also in the past two or three months (it gets hard to remember) I went to the doctor about Robbie's little neck. I had noticed he did not turn to the left, and because of that the moulding of his head was severely warped. He was immediately seen by a physiotherapist. He was diagnosed with "Congenital Muscular Torticollis", or CMT. What had happened we think, is that he had injured or had torn a neck muscle either in utero or during birth. It is fairly common happening in roughly 1 in 1000 children. Why it wasn't diagnosed before? I don't know. At 7 months, his head was severely warped and because around one year the plates are fused together, there was a possibility of crano-facial surgery.

We caught it just in time. We do stretches of his neck at least three times daily and he is still seeing the physiotherapist. His head is shaping normaly, there is no brain damage, and he is doing things babies his age are supposed to. He actually had an appointment today with the physiotherapist, but I am still so weak, I was unable to take him. My mother (bless her heart) took him for me. He is recovering!!

He is beautiful, and a lovely baby.

I apologize if this seems a little jumbled. As theraputic as this is, I find it a little difficult to remember things in chronological order. I think when I am a little better I'll re-write, or at least proof read....

Thank you all for your continued prayers for my family.

Love, Barbara