WHITE WATER TERROR

I like to consider myself adventurous. The kind of girl that is up for new experiences and crazy escapades. Yet perhaps I still fall into the camp of the cautious since I’ve never broken a bone, never done anything too terribly stupid, never injured myself too seriously…well except for a concussion snowboarding, joining a bull-run in Nicaragua, second degree burns from a midnight ramen party, a torn knee ligament from having my dirtbike fall on top of me mid-jump, and exploring a WW2 mine that said it might have bad air inside. But all that aside…I’d never had a truly near-death experience until the summer of 2018.

It all started one day when I was driving home with a couple of my co-workers/friends. I had made plans to quit my job of 8 years at the end of the summer and so now my friend Bailey and I were discussing all the things we needed to do in the area before I moved away. We were living in prime Canadian wilderness and there was just so much good stuff to do. “Hey we never went white water rafting!” Bailey exclaimed.

The Budget Miracle

“Your GYC mission trip food budget is only $7000 US dollars?” Our local Iceland mission trip contact somewhat dubiously questioned as we traipsed through an Icelandic grocery store. “I don’t know if that’s possible.” He explained that he had been involved in cooking for church retreat type groups there many times and how it took much more money than we’d been allotted for our trip. My heart sank. But this was God’s mission! I was just here to serve, and I knew the rest would have to be up to Him, even though now it seemed like we were trying to cook for a mission trip group on an apparently too-small budget.

Several months before, my friend Ellen had been contacted about potentially cooking for the Iceland GYC mission trip. “I’ve really been wanting to do more for God,” she confessed. “And I feel this could be an answer to prayer. But I can’t do it by myself,” she told me. “You have to come with me if I end up going!”

“I’d love to help you,” I replied, “but I don’t know if it’ll be financially possible for me.” I’d quit my job almost one year before and had spent some time volunteering in Thailand since then. I didn’t have a lot of extra spending money. But I prayed that if it was God’s will for us to go that Ellen would be chosen as the cook and that it would be financially feasible for me. And one month later our prayers were answered. The mission trip leadership invited Ellen to officially be the trip cook and since they were paying for her flight, she graciously paid for half of my flight. We were going!

Shower Intruder

**Names have been changed to protect the innocent.**

Someone was hiding in the shower. Not something, someONE. I could feel it, I could sense it. Without a shadow of a doubt I knew it, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood. My worst childhood nightmare was coming true.

Did you have any childhood fears? Maybe walking in the dark, going into the basement, spiders or snakes, getting lost, perhaps a neighbourhood bully? Although I had my share of fears, some more substantial or founded than others, the fear that was on my childish mind the most was that someone was hiding behind the shower curtain. I’m not certain where this fear came from. Perhaps my brother jumped out one time and scared me forever? Honestly I don’t remember. But every time I had to use the restroom, that fear came to haunt me. Sitting on the toilet and imagining a strange and scary person standing behind the shower curtain literally right next to me was a horrifying thought for my childish self, for my adult self too I suppose. So as a child, I made a habit of ripping back the shower curtain with no forewarning for a quick check before every toilet sit down. I don’t know if I fully ever processed what I would do if I happened to actually find someone behind the shower curtain, but not checking and being horribly surprised while ‘trapped’ on the toilet was definitely the worse option.

Well one day I did find out what I would do if someone was hiding in the shower.

Tippy Canoe and the Lifesaver

The mild spring breeze kissed our cheeks as we sat on the beach, feet slightly submerged in the still chilly lake. Laughter erupted occasionally, but sometimes we just lay back on the warm pebbles in contented silence, enjoying the peace and calm and sunshine of a perfect Sabbath afternoon. We were on a weekend campout at a nearby lake, Seton, with a whole group from the high-school that I work at. We had just canoed about 4 kilometres (2.5 miles) from our remote campsite called “Long Beach” across part of the lake to an outcropping we called “Sandy Point.” Now we were relaxing and appreciating the company and the sunshine.

As the sun slowly sank westward, we all figured it was time to head back. Climbing into our canoe, and laying our life jackets on our seats for comfort, my friend Alexandra and I attempted to paddle in a direct line across the little “bay” to the campsite. But as we paddled, the sky darkened as clouds began to cover the sun that had once shone so brightly. And the air that had been so warm quickly cooled as wind began to pick up. The glassy lake surface was now choppy as gusts of wind whipped up the waves. We were about a third of the way back when one of the school’s speedboats headed towards our group of canoers, “Start paddling towards the edge of the lake,” the driver yelled. “Looks like a big storm is blowing in and it’s not safe to be canoeing out here in the open water with all these waves.” He sped off leaving us a wake of waves to bounce over. The lake edge was parallel to us across the inlet and not exactly in the direction we were paddling. “But if we head straight towards the shore, that will put our canoe parallel to the waves,” I pointed out. And anyone who knows anything about canoeing knows that’s a sure way to flip. Well we’d just have to slowly angle our way towards shore instead. The wind and competency of the canoers had separated our group and Alexandra and I were not near any others. As we gradually worked on angling towards shore, our canoe was no longer plowing directly into the waves. Unexpectedly a rogue wave caught our canoe, driving it parallel to the waves. And in an instant, without even a second to react, I was plunged into the frigid waters.

Adventures in Europe: The Frid Apartment

We'd arrived in Vienna, Austria earlier that day to attend (the most welcoming ever) church, but before we headed out sightseeing we needed to find our airbnb apartment; the owner was waiting for us there. However when we went to punch in the address on our GPS, we realized we didn’t have a house number, only the street name. Although we had the apartment owner’s phone number, we had no way to contact her. Navigating our way to the correct street, we found it long and filled with large apartment buildings. What to do? Alex(andra) and I noticed that at the main door of each building there was a list of apartment numbers and last names of all the occupants. This of course led to the brilliant idea of Alex and I looking for our apartment owner’s last name (Frid) on all the building tenant lists. I headed down one side of the street and Alex the other, beginning the laborious process of scanning each occupant roster and then traversing down to the next tall building. “I found a Frid, I found a Frid!” Alex soon elatedly exclaimed. 

It's Not About the Beauty

Lying on the fluffy hotel bed, it almost enveloped me with its softness, encouraging me to drift off into dreamland. But no, I had work emails in my inbox waiting for responses. As I typed up an email, I glanced over at my friend lying on her own bed only a few feet away. "I'm leaving in about half an hour to go out with some friends," I reminded her. She smiled and nodded in response, her sleek blonde pony tail lay smoothly against her back. And all of sudden all the old feelings came flooding back with a sickening rush.

A friend I didn't know very well had invited me to go eat and hang out with a group of them that evening. I only somewhat knew a few people from the group and now these old feelings had resurfaced.

What if they don't like me?
What if I can't think of anything to say?
What if they think I'm boring?
What if I say something dumb?

Merry Christmas!

CLICK HERE TO SEE OUR 2013 CHRISTMAS "CARD"

The Case of the Lost Austrian Passport

Several of the student custodial workers rushed into my office this morning. “Look!” they shouted, holding out a dark red passport from Republik Osterreich, “Do you know this guy?” I opened it. A 29 year old male with long “fluffy” hair stared back at me – Vladimir C. – no one I knew. But how did we have his passport? How was it here on the Fountainview Academy campus? How long had we had the passport? Where had it come from?

Apparently the custodial girls had been getting ready to send our leftover lost and found items to ADRA and started looking through a black messenger bag before getting rid of it. Inside were packs of gum, shampoo, dirty socks, an empty cigarette carton – and the passport. 

Jesus and the iPhone Zombie

I was with a friend the other day when I began telling her a really important update in my life. I'd finished the "punch-line" and was moving on to the this-is-going-to-change-all-my-future-plans stage when I noticed her eyes had turned to her iPhone. Was she just checking the time? Was she looking at the latest and greatest on Facebook? Had she just gotten an email? How much of her attention did I still hold? 90%? Should I keep talking? Was it worth it for how much she might be hearing? Maybe she was only at 70%. I let my train-of-thought trail off.

I love fireworks - the rush of the crowd, the excitement of the moment, the splendor of fire exploding in the sky! The last time I was at fireworks with friends, my friend was beside me busily snapping pictures. "These are fantastic!" She'd exclaim. I glanced over at her staring up into the sky through her tiny viewfinder that made the sky 1/50th of the live show I was viewing. All for what? Having hundreds of fireworks pictures that would get archived onto a hard-drive and never viewed again? For getting that fantastic, clear shot that she probably wouldn't even upload on facebook for her 800+ friends to enjoy?

Hand-Raising Humiliation

So I'm sitting in this meeting, let's just say it's a sort of important meeting with sort of important people, and leave it at that. I'm in charge of taking the minutes so I'm sitting there with my laptop, diligently typing the discussions when the temptation of facebook became too much. Naughtily I scroll down the newsfeed: a million pictures of a friend's baby at the park, a dog doing something funny, assorted statuses, and a too-close-up shot of someone's face. And then there was this one picture. It was a photo of a guy, but he was holding his hand in a really odd position in the picture.
Now before I finish this story I'll have to admit that I'm a little strange. I'm a hands-on kind of person. I have to try things myself to learn or figure them out. If someone says a word that I think sounds interesting or strange I sometimes say it quietly under my breath a time or two just to try out how it sounds. So I'm trying to figure out how his hand is in this position and without even realizing it, I attempt to place my hand in the same position, just to see how it was done. And then I notice a bit of a lull in the talking around the table in the middle of an earnest discussion. Glancing up I realize half the table is looking at me.

Miracle of the Applesauce

Ellen and I decided to make applesauce...lots of it. So last night we ran in to town and bought 60 one quart canning jars and today we started the process. We got four large boxes of apples from the campus fruit barn and set about canning.  For those who know about making applesauce...well it's not necessary for me to explain all the steps; and for those who don't...I'm not going to take the time, but know--it is a bit of a process! About halfway through we wondered if we should get more apples, but I was too lazy and told Ellen we should just keep going with what we had. But towards the end, it seemed now we wouldn't have enough jars and I began wondering where we could get more jars from. As I worked on funneling the remains of the last pan of applesauce into the last 4 jars, I tried to estimate how this would end - I'd either have too few, or too many jars. But as I cleaned out the final pan with a spatula and and directed the last few drops of applesauce into the very last jar, it was filled perfectly. And by perfectly, I mean perfectly - not a drop too much, and not a drop too little. I mean seriously, what are the chances that we randomly got exactly the precise amount of apples to exactly fill the 60 jars we had?
Mind blown.

Guest Room Embarrassment

Yesterday evening I hurried through the cafeteria when I came upon a distraught Bethany (guest room manager), “The guests who were staying in guest room #6 that left for a few days ago are returning tonight, and I heard that the maintenance crew were in their room working and it might be a mess. I've been trying to get a hold of my mother to ask her to check, but I can’t find her and I have to run to orchestra practice right now!”  
“Don’t worry,” I soothed, “I’ll go check out the room and make sure it's okay.” Hopping on my dirt bike I navigate down the dark road without a headlight towards the guest rooms. Pulling right up in front of the door to guest room #6, I jumped off my bike and yanked the door open. Imagine my surprise and horror to find a woman standing there in the room staring back at me; her husband was lying in the bed. In shock I just quickly shut the door. Apparently the guests had returned earlier than expected. But then I stood outside the closed door thinking they were probably wondering what I had been doing. I'd better tell them I decided. But in my flustered state, instead of knocking first, I just opened the door right up again. Apologetically I explained the situation to the nice lady and tried to make a hasty departure. But then my dirt bike was having trouble starting, it was too cold for it, and I’m sure they could hear me trying over and over to start it. Finally with a sigh of relief I made my escape.

Night Fright

I hurried into my room last night to grab a jacket, my roommate Ellen was sleeping, so leaving the lights off I tried to navigate from the very dim light filtering in from the doorway. Noticing that there was tons of stuff on my bed I began quickly grabbing everything; clothes, bags, winter gear, purse, everything, regardless of what it was, and throwing it on the floor. All of a sudden my hand closed around something.....

 ...alive! It was squishy, warm and furry. Screaming in terror I leapt back. The neighbor's cat, unhappy with my loud outburst jumped off my bed in quick escape, first trying the closet, but then headed out the door. After awhile my heart finally slowed down its beating.

Nicaragua: Granada Bull Run

At the end of our Maranatha Nicaragua trip we had a day in the city of Granada to do some activities/sightseeing. In the morning I went zip lining and our guide told us that the yearly bull run celebration was that same day. We decided that it would be a great cultural experience to check it out and maybe even participate. I did not know what I was getting myself into. So later on that afternoon we headed out walking from our hotel towards the area where the bull run would be held. In a whole section of the city, bulls would be let out to roam the streets chasing and goring those dumb enough to get too close. The farther we walked the more and more crowded the streets became.  Every street edge and door way and window and wall and park area were jammed with spectators.

Ellen and a couple others from our group climbed up on tall wall on the street's edge, but there was no room there for Alex(andra), Dave and I and the others so we continued on walking down the street. All of a sudden everyone starting running around us, but as I made a start to run too, everything stopped.

Birdy Poo

Poop isn't very endearing right? Well that's what I thought. As as kid I decided the word "poop" was a disgusting word and I didn't like saying it, hearing it, or anything. So (many years later) when my friend Emma nicknamed me "poop" I was surprised that I found it to be affectionate rather than distasteful.

Now some of my friends and I fondly suffix "poo" to other's names - Alexpoo, Daviepoo, Elliepoo, Lissypoo, Emmapoo. Well you get the point.  Although some people don't seem to appreciate the loving use of the "poo" suffix in public. Maybe I've been wrong in my thinking and it's actually spelled pooh as in Pooh Bear and not "poo" at all. Daviepooh, Hansiepooh, Alexpooh: hmm nope, it's definitely not with an "h". It's all about the poo.

Speaking of poo, or poop rather, I wonder how many people have had the unfortunate event of being pooped upon by a bird. And I'm not talking about people who own birds.

it's all in the WINK

I like winking.

I know, I know, that sounds a little weird maybe, even to me! But it's true.
I wink at people (girls mostly) to say hello without saying hello, I think it's like a silent acknowledgement. Or say I'm across the room from my best friend Ellen and I catch her eye. Maybe we are sitting in a boring meeting, maybe she's in the middle of talking to someone "interesting," maybe I'm walking by and don't have time to talk. I wink at her and it's like the two of us are sharing something that no one else is a part. It's like we shared a silent secret. I could be saying "this meeting is so boring and I get that you are bored too" or I might be hinting mischievously "sooooo who is this that you are talking to??" Or it can just be a way to let her know I'm thinking about her at the moment when I can't or don't have time to talk.

So maybe I am reading a little too much into a wink. Maybe this is how I see things, but other people don't see a wink this way. I've never even bothered asking others. So today I did a bit of investigation. I asked some people what they felt like when someone winked at them. Most of the reactions I got were just from the question itself.

Fueling 2011

2011....what was so interesting about 2011? What do you remember the most from 2011?

As I think about this question right now, strangely the events that stick out to me right now from this year involve (almost) running out of gasoline. Now I've been driving for almost 6 years now and I had never come close to running out of fuel on a trip, until this year when it happened 3 times! Either I've become less responsible, or less aware of the gas meter, or something! Though I have to say it's really not all my fault....

It all started in April when my friend Ellen and I were driving to Edmonton.

Juice Fast - Day 5

Well folks, this is it. I've decided today will be my last day of juicing. Yeah, I know, I didn't make it to 10 days. But first of all, I don't feel fasting any longer will really give me any more health benefits (I could be wrong, of course). Secondly, I've lost 7 pounds in five days and I don't think I need to lose anymore. Drinking juice has lost its appeal. Also I think I have good enough self-control now...haha just kidding.

Today was great! I thought that it would be harder not to eat today because it's the weekend and I don't have work to occupy me from not eating. But I went out "frolicking" in the snow and that definitely distracted me from wanting to eat real food. I can't wait for tomorrow though! I've been told I shouldn't start off eating lots (especially unhealthy food) with a bang, because it will shock my body and undue whatever it is that this juice fasting did for me. But there are some things I'm really craving: pancakes, pasta & sauce (as mentioned earlier on Day 3), toast with butter and yeast flakes, pretty much anything savory at this point.

Juice Fast - Day 4

Jenn and I made different drinks for breakfast. She made cranberry, apple, lime juice. I drank some and it was really good!

For my own breakfast I made:
Grapefruit
Orange
Spinach (about a pound and it still doesn't make much juice)
Ginger
Broccoli stalks

This juice is really good! I love grapefruit juice and I can't taste the spinach or broccoli at all.

Juice Fast - Day 3

This morning Jennifer decided to only have vegetable juice, I wasn't quite as brave so I made my own juice with fruit in it. I'm scared I wouldn't be able to get just veggie juice down.

Breakfast:
Pears
Celery (5 stalks I think)
Little bit of ginger
1/2 a lemon
A bit of parsley
1/4 of an english cucumber
Carrots

It had little bits of pear pieces in it, maybe I didn't have the juicer on a high enough setting.