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The vision

When I was about eighteen or seventeen I had a vison of myself standing in a desert. My hair was extremely short,  and brown. I’m wearing a sundress. And I’m all alone.
At the time I thought it meant that one day I would one day return to my favorite place, the American southwest. I took the vision at face value. It gave me hope. Sometimes God has given me glimpses of the future. Sometimes it’s just a moment, a sentence, a beautiful flower, a person, or a future version of myself.

This week I cut most of my hair off. When I was at work the Lord brought this vison back to me. To be honest it had been a long time since I had even thought about it. I realized that I had that haircut, glasses, and that sundress that I’m wearing in the vision is hanging in my closet. It took my breath away. I had been in seriously prayer about where the Lord wanted me to be. I immediately thought that I should book a plane ticket. Now, it was time to go on a mission trip. I knew where I should go or did I?

It didn’t feel right. I didn’t have a God feeling about it. I began to seek what God meant. How could I get to this desert? Because I wanted to be there more than anything? And do you know what He said to me?

Write yourself there.

What? What does that mean? How on earth do I write myself there? Is this an idea for a fiction novel? Will my writing lead me to the desert?

Then I saw this blog.

This is where I will start this journey. Maybe I will physically end up in the desert. Maybe I’m in a spiritual desert because I haven’t been walking as close to God as I should. Maybe I’m in a desert and God’s saying it’s time to come out. Maybe I will be starting a whole new section of my life. The truth is I don’t have a clear-cut idea what this vision means now.

Rarely do I hear from God so clearly. But He has spoken to me and I will obey. Come along with me on this journey.

Your sister in Christ,
Autumn Wood

 

My element is water

I am like water, I am steady, I am calm on the surface.

Get too close and you will see the ranging rapids within me.

When you think you are getting to know me, I pull back.

I overcome the obstacles that come my way by taking the path of least resistance, until the path of least resistance becomes too rocky and rigid.

At that point I let the rapids take over and I become like a landslide.

I am capable of making a new landscape.

Do you still want to know me? Or will you leave me too?

Because if I could I would leave me alone.

Just imagine someone awkwardly waving at you…

Hello, it’s been awhile since I’ve felt like writing. Writing a blog post anyway, it feels one part pointless and two parts like I’m seriously unqualified. I used to feel a lot more confident to give people advice. Maybe I was just more naïve.

I still love God and want to grow closer. I feel like I don’t know how to talk about it. Not in a way that will be easily perceived anyway. I question things more and find my way back more. I also don’t accept what people say as easily. Maybe that’s just part of growing up. Growing away from certain ideas to form new ones.

I feel like I’ve played my life very safe. In a way I’m grateful for it, I just don’t want to feel stifled by the choices I’ve made. Moving forward I want to enjoy my life more. Take a couple more risks that may seem like very minor changes but that’s how we get anywhere.

Dear Lord,

I hope that I can move forward with Your help. I don’t know what that will always look like. Please help me stay close to You.

Amen

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June 15th, 2023-Middle of know where Saskatchewan

She was pretty, with long strawberry blonde hair highlighted rose gold pink. That night before leaving the city she had put on her best pair of jeans and her husband’s leather jacket. She didn’t have a anywhere in mind, she just wanted to go out for a pint.

Driving down the highway with the sun out, she was out in the flat open prairie. It may be a boring part of the country but it had it’s own beauty in the people who called it home. In the hospital it was the people from out of town that she got along with the best. They had a good sense of humor, straight forward, and kinder. Maybe that’s what had inspired the drive.

She turned into a hamlet that she had never heard of before and parked at the only abolishment open, the bar. It didn’t have a fancy name, no new gimmick, no hype, the building looked like it needed a paint job. She noticed that it had a Canada Post sign out front, odd.

The door was heavier than she thought. She got a whiff of cigarette smoke. That hadn’t been legal in a bar here for a long time…For her it was a welcome change. It was full of life with people in jeans and t-shirts, most not bothering to change after working in the field. Country music played from somewhere. Everyone turned to look at her.

If you watched her closely you would notice the white skin line encircling where her wedding band had recently been removed. The bags under her eyes that her makeup couldn’t hide. She seemed happy but if you looked for too long her façade would drop and a deep sadness would take over. Of course this would be if you were interested and sober looking at her. In a dimly lit bar with one and two dollar bills signed by people passing through covering the walls as decoration it wasn’t as easy to see.

She walked up to the bar and took a seat. It was made from an old tractor seat and spun, fun.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asked.

“A pint of Guinness?”

“Yeah I can do that. Where are you from to have an accent like that?”

“Ireland.”

“You’re a long way from home. Sure there’s a story behind it.” The bartender butted his cigarette and grabbed a can of Guinness from a fridge in the back. “Glass?”

“Aye.”

“I take that to mean yes.”

“Yes, aye same thing but different.”

“So, what’s your name?”

“Roisin.”

“Pretty name never heard it before.”

“Where I come from it’s as common as Sara or Brittney.”

“You making fun of my people?” He winked.

“No, if I were doing that I would do it better than that.”

“Aye, I imagine you would.” He gently tired a bad Irish accent. Roisin giggled.

“So what’s your name lad?”

“John.”

“My second favorite book of the Bible.”

“You read it often?”

“Not anymore, it’s apart of my heart.”

“Hello you aren’t from here. My name is Alvin.” A new man walked up to Roisin. He looked to be her age. He wore a Saskatchewan Roughrider T-shirt and had blue eyes that could light up the darkest night.

“Chipmunk, I don’t know if she’s interested in being bothered tonight. Roisin, why are you here in my bar?”

“I haven’t been out in a long time. Not since before Covid. You own this place?”

“Wow, that’s been years now. Yeah, my Dad owned it, before him my Grandpa. In a place like this you learn to be a little of everything. During the day I open up the other side as a grocery store and my wife cooks so we run a café too. Been here a long time…”

“What keeps you here?”

“The people, even the Chipmunks are friendly.” John pointed to Roisin’s pursuer who had found a pretty blonde to dance with. “So you didn’t answer my question?”

“What’s your wife name?” She deflected.

“Brittney, we’ve been together since grade twelve. I don’t know how she puts up with me. Four kids, all know how to ride and cook, both the boys and our one girl, the youngest. Looks just like Brittney. You got anyone?”

“I could use another pint, lad.” She held up her empty glass. John grabbed another can of Guinness and set it by her glass.

“Around here the local’s fill it themselves half the time and I don’t want you to feel special.” He left her to her drink and went in the back to do some work. A brunette went back being the bar with empty glasses and bottles. She giggled when she went to the back before coming back out to man the bar, Brittney, Roisin assumed.

Roisin looked out at the rest of the room. A couple who she thought must have been new seemed glued at the hip at one table. Another couple who were clearly in their fifties were laughing and joking with one another and anyone who was draft enough to get sucked in. Single men seemed to be everywhere, from just legal to drink to one gentleman who was using a walker. Most people seemed to know one another. One pretty young thing was trying to catch the eye of the Chipmunk while he was dancing with anyone else.

It had a different feeling from her local pub in Ireland, it was nice. You could feel the tension from the shared history of these people. Everyone seemed to know everyone. There was love in the room too, a kind of acceptance that only comes from knowing people your whole life. In Ireland everyone would be looking to ask her how she was after…Roisin didn’t miss that.

On one wall was an assortment of taxidermy animal heads. Mostly bucks with large antlers. There were the standard mule deer, white tails, antelope, and moose. Then there were the unusual and the clearly African Zebra. Strange to see anywhere, completely unexpected here, and yet everyone but Roisin ignored them.

Her Mark would have loved it. He was a hunter, every fall him and his group of friends since primary school would go hunting for a few weeks. It drove Roisin nearly mad at the time. Looking back it wasn’t so bad to have the townhouse to herself for a while. Mark always returned in good spirits even if the trip was ‘bad’. He wasn’t competitive enough to be truly bothered by the lack of getting the largest buck. He was from a small town much like this one. She had always been charmed by his stories of growing up with a combo of little supervision, the great outdoors, quads, and boredom.

They had met online of course. Not on a dating app but an online game. At first when Mark had been bold enough to ask for her real phone number Roisin had been hesitate. They had been messaging each other for a few years on Discord at that point. She talked to Mark almost as much as her Mum. What if he wasn’t real? What if she was being cat fished?

What finally changed her mind was two important things. Number one was that she got in a car accident. She was walking to her Uni class when a driver made an illegal turn and just nicked her. An ambulance attendant told asked her if she wanted to call someone. Still in shock she dialed her Mum who didn’t pick up. She wanted to open discord but she was out of data and couldn’t even send Mark a message until she got Wi-Fi at her University a couple hours later. The second was significantly smaller but no less important. After she told him no she was not comfortable giving him her cell number, Mark never pushed her for it. He never asked again.

He was very real and everything he said he was and more. They became closer and soon Mark flew to Ireland to meet Roisin. At the time neither one knew that they were a couple. Mark was staying at a local bed and breakfast. He said he just wanted to meet her in person to see if anything could develop. She knew that if he looked like his pictures of tanned skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair that she was at the very least very interested. By the end of his two week stay he was meeting her Mum. At the end of her Nursing school Roisin flew to Canada to meet his parents.

They got married at the courthouse in Saskatoon. Just his parents were there and his friends. After that they filed the immigrant paperwork, it took three times as long as they thought. It was hard on Roisin not being able to work but she also loved that time in her life. It gave her time to think, to grow, and to learn about Mark. By the time she was working they had worked through many of their differences.

Covid happened three years ago. Everything shut down, the world went quiet. At that point a lot of people either separated or found someone new. Many found that either they hated or loved their home life. Roisin being a nurse meant that she worked all the time. Mark was told to go home from his lawyer office. He was a horrible housekeeper but a wonderful cook.

In 2021 they had a Covid outbreak on the floor that Roisin worked on. She hadn’t gotten sick and since she didn’t have any kids she worked as much as she could. One night she came home exhausted, she knew that she shouldn’t have but she climbed into bed in her scrubs. She woke up with a fever the next day. On her second day of being sick she tested positive for Covid. Roisin was mildly sick. Mark soon went from her nurse to her patient.

Friends dropped off groceries. Their neighbors dropped off casseroles. Three weeks later Roisin woke up in the middle of the night and had a bad feeling. She tired to wake Mark up but he was already gone. Covid had affected his heart. Turns out Mark had a heart condition that he had never known about.

In Ireland life for Roisin had been simple. She had grown up in a small village, with a tiny health center. Since she was a girl she had dreamed about becoming a nurse. She had loved and dated a boy from her village. He was named Ron, he was a few years older than her. He wore wire rimmed glasses, with dark hair, and green eyes. Ron was the only boy that Roisin had ever loved. He was sensitive and loved to draw. His dreams had taken him to Edenborough. Soon after Ron left the village, he broke up with Roisin. He told her that he didn’t want to hold her back and wanted time for her to decide as an adult whether she still wanted him.

She had half expected him to come home for Christmas with a new girl. Ron, true to his word hadn’t, came home with a portfolio of the most amazing art that she had ever seen. He gave her a portrait that he had drawn of her before they had broken up.

“I thought you should have it.”

“What does this mean?” He had just smiled and waved at her as he left.

At first Roisin’s Mum and family had expected her to come home to Ireland. She had thought about it but at the time so much was still shut down that it didn’t make much sense. She had good friends at work and in the city. She loved Canada and Ireland just didn’t feel like home. With the nursing shortage Roisin worked all the time to keep the grief at bay.

On top of that many of her coworkers talked about how they weren’t the same since working through multiple Covid outbreaks. One of Roisin’s friends told her that “I feel like a part of me died”. Many had quit healthcare all together, those that stayed were a different breed. They were close and felt like family.

Up until recently Roisin felt that she was doing okay. She had started to plan a trip to Ireland. Nurses were needed there too as her Mum liked to remind her. Truthfully she wasn’t looking forward to it.

It was alot of pressure from her family that she hadn’t felt in a while due to being so far away. Then there was Ron, he had reached out to Roisin after Mark passed. They hadn’t talked in years, yet it felt natural. She didn’t have to translate what she said to him. Her accent could never be too thick for him to understand. Yes, he had grown up but he had reminded true to himself, she just hoped that he could keep his ego in check.

Ron had dated, and had even been engaged once since they had broken up. His art came first and had ruined his relationships. He was driven and his art was now making enough to pay his bills. He had achieved his biggest dream. Roisin knew he was lonely, she knew why he had reached out. Did she want to reach back? Could she love again? Was she being true to Mark? What about to herself?

Roisin noticed a dart board on one of the walls. In Uni she wasn’t half bad at darts. She went over to it and started to play. Soon she was playing with a group of locals. Laughing at their jokes as they laughed at her accent. It was easy to be here in this moment. She danced and showed off her traditional Irish dancing.

Ron had come to her nursing graduation. He had sat with her family, not bothering to tell her that he was coming. She hadn’t publicly said that she would be moving to Canada. Ron had no idea but her Mum was aware of her plans. Roisin thought it was her last ditch effort to stop the “madness”. Ron had bought her a gift of a set of scrubs and a beautiful painting. She could tell he had no idea how she felt about Mark. They walked out back into the garden that night she told Ron of her plans.

“Really, you would rather have a boring Canadian than be my muse?” She left his painting at her childhood home in Ireland. Since they had been talking again she felt that his ego had taken a hit since Covid. Maybe he had learned his lesson and returned to the more sensitive boy she had loved.

Before she knew it John was calling for last round. She checked her phone to see it was three in the morning! Someone tapped her on the shoulder. Roisin turned around to see it was John. He had a bill in his hand. Her change? No, she hadn’t even paid yet.

“In my bar I have people that I find interesting sign old one and two dollar bills. Here is a sharpie Roisin.” He handed her the bill and the marker. Roisin looked at John and made a decision. She pulled an old five dollar euro note from her purse and signed it. When John came around she gave it to him.

“They are old five dollar notes that they don’t even make anymore. My Mamó gave it to me.”

“I like your style.”

Ireland or Canada? She had made her choice and she was happy with it. It didn’t matter what others thought of her it was about being home.

A lesson on how to deal with fear

For as long as I can remember I’ve been afraid of bees, wasps, and hornets. It has a big long fancy name even: Apiphobia. I live in Canada and we have six months of winter, three of spring and fall, and three months of summer. Every summer I have to deal with relearning how to not scream in my yard. It’s a process….

When you come from a colder climate you get a little stir crazy by the time the warm weather starts to come around. You wear saddles when there is still snow on the ground, shorts with winter boots, you go to the grocery store and shiver in your sun dress.

If it’s a nice day outside you will put off whatever work you have inside the house just to weed eat the yard.

Every year my phobia gets in the way of me enjoying our short time of bliss….

This year my family decided to put up a greenhouse. It’s something that we’ve talked about for years and we finally did it! Shout out to all our neighbors and friends for helping us put it together.

I love flowers and every year I put together some planters. This year we went wild. It had been so long since we had something to feel joyful about. It was a lot of work but worth it.

This is not a picture of my greenhouse. Ours is a bit more redneck.

Going into a greenhouse when you are afraid of pollinators is a challenge. I loved the idea of it but actually having to stand there and water….I was shaking in my boots. I didn’t want to do it, I didn’t want to face my fear. I joked that the greenhouse is my shock therapy.

Now a couple months later I can say that I can go outside and be at peace with the bees, wasps, and hornets. It’s not that I’m not afraid because I still am it’s just that I’ve gotten to a point where the fear doesn’t consume my mind. I still feel myself starting to panic at times but I’m able to mange my thoughts and calm myself down. I’ve been able to really enjoy this summer.

How did I get here?

Step one: Figuring out what was triggering me. Now there are multiple triggers but I’m going to focus on one just to make my point clear. The sound of their buzzing can give me goosebumps. It’s still the thing that sets me off the most.

Step two: Pray. I prayed for help a lot and also started using the time to pray for everything and anything in order to calm and distract myself. I will admit this alone didn’t cure me but it helped.

Step three: Focus on something else. Since sound was a trigger I started to focus on the sound of my hose spraying water. As long as the hose was on I could calm myself down. It worked but only when the hose was on. It was a step in the right direction. I love music and would hum to myself or sing if no one was around.

Step four: Take every thought captive. This was a big one for me. Where was my head at? Was I thinking of good thoughts? No I was thinking of the worst thing that could happen. I had to turn my thoughts around.

Step five: Trust God. I wasn’t trusting God when I was in a fearful state. Now fear is natural, I’m not saying that feeling fear is bad. What I was doing in my actions was relevelling an area that I didn’t trust God in. My worst fear is that I will get stung and die. I’m not allergic but I still fear this possibility and that is the root of my fear. I had to understand what this was all about. Then I had to reassure myself by being honest with myself.

Okay, so I get stung, what is the worst thing that could happen? I have an allergic reaction. Well, I’ve had those before, God has always been there for me. The nearest emergency room is twenty minutes away and I don’t drive. My cellphone is close at hand, I live with my parents, and I have friends in town that would drop everything to help me. Also God is with me. What if I die? Well, then that’s the way I’m meant to go. Make sure you are right with God every day and focus on Him. God loves imperfect people. He loves you and He wants you to get over this fear. Trust Him with your life, all of it.


And now I can go outside and face one of my fears. Which means that God is going to bring in a new challenge for me so I can overcome it to. As long as He is with me, it will be okay.

“But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord,

whose confidence is in him.

They will be like a tree planted by the water

that sends out its roots by the stream.

It does not fear when heat comes;

its leaves are always green.

It has no worries in a year of drought

and never fails to bear fruit.”

Jeremiah 17:7-8(NIV)

I Love You, Anyway

My Dad is a hard topic for me. He moved to the small town I live in this year. I’ve had more contact with him this year than I have in seven years at least. It’s caused me to have to deal with a lot of issues. I’ve had to look at what it means to forgive but also keep him at arms length… wondering the whole time if I was doing the right thing.

It’s been hard to know how to deal with someone who is clearly not mentally well. How do you forgive someone when they are clearly not the same person that hurt you? I pray a lot for help. How do you know what was intentional? You don’t. How do you care for them? I don’t know. That’s the truth. This is one of those times in life when there is no simple answer.

Dad has a hard time communicating. The one thing that he keeps telling me is “I love you, anyway”. Even when I don’t visit as often as he would like. When I don’t meet his expectations. When I feel like I’ve failed. It’s hard for me to feel like he loves me. Dad didn’t tell me he loved me until Mom told him by not telling me he would mess me up. I was eleven.

He told me “You know I love you right?”

“Yeah Dad I know.”

I don’t know if anyone ever told him they loved him simply for him being himself. Well, Dad I love you, anyway too.

But I was never really sure. Not when I was young, he didn’t behavior in a way that made me think he loved me. I wasn’t able to see that he was trying, doing the best that he could. At times I think that he could have done better but he couldn’t understand how his actions affected me. I don’t honestly think that he understands the long term affects of any of the actions that he’s taken.

It’s hard to explain what my Dad is like…He’s just so different. His actions often lack any logic that I can follow.


There were many times that I have to thank those around me for taking care of me. For teaching me things that he should have taught me that he didn’t have the words for or didn’t know himself. I can say looking back that God watched over me and kept me safe. I would like to think that I’m more empathic for what I’ve been through. I can honestly say that sometimes being normal still eludes me. That is both a blessing and a curse.

I try to remain grateful for how peaceful my home life is these days. At least it truly is a place where I can be myself. Sorry to my family that I live with, I know that I’ve been a lot more on edge these days.

Sorry for the silence online it’s just that most of what I’ve been writing about these days is just between me and God. For all those like me who have to live with mental illness and the lack of knowing what to do about it. I don’t have any advice expect to lean into and on God. If only to keep yourself somewhat sane.

God has lifted me out of the worst parts of my life in the past. He will do so again in His timing and in His own way. Until then I will keep holding on to my Heavenly Father, His son who died for me Jesus Christ, and The Holy Spirit that is my strength in all storms.