Author Archives: Patricia Ann

Barefoot Over the Bridge

Posted on by

Walking down the aisle is no longer the only road to matrimony, it seems. On Saturday I watched my granddaughter, Courtney, walk barefoot over a wooden bridge, in her princess wedding gown, accompanied by her proud dad, to stand by Matt, the man she intends to spend the rest of her life with. The lake water lapped and glistened as if in symphony with the nature of this outdoor wedding.

Everything else was traditional in a sense. The wedding party, beautiful in their pastel gowns and gray suits, waited for the bride to take her place beside her groom and the service began.

It was both solemn and sweet as this special couple took their vows having eyes for only each other. I’m not sure whether the vows they repeated were written by themselves or the minister who performed the ceremony, but I do know that Saint Paul wrote the following words of love in 1 Corinthians 13:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.8 Love never fails… 13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

These words have been repeated at many wedding ceremonies over the centuries and my heart filled with love for the young couple hearing them now, probably for the very first time. I hope their love will remain as alive as it was on Saturday when Matthew watched his bride walking toward him,..barefoot over the bridge.

 

 

A Love Story

Posted on by

Patricia Ann's avatarMy Precious Life

An update: I first posted this love story last year and it was a big hit. Everyone loves a love story, right?  Well, as it so happens, the love has not waned one iota and if anything, is even more poignant. Even though we are both a year older, the age difference is simply not a factor in our relationship. But one thing is a little unsettling, I don’t see him as often as I would like to and now he has another new interest in his life which I will reveal a little later in the story. So here you go…

I have a confession to make. I’m in love with a younger man. At my age you pretty much have to be. You see, I’m seventy-eight years old, and men my age and up are just not interested in older women.

It’s not the first time I’ve been in…

View original post 244 more words

Whatever It Takes

Posted on by

Someone needs to hear that they are making a difference in someone’s life. They need to hear that because they exist, life is easier, happier, and more fulfilling. They need to hear that their contribution to a relationship is what makes it stronger. They need to hear that they themselves are strong, resilient, and someone to be proud of. Someone needs to hear that they are loved, appreciated, easy to be with; they need to hear that they are passionate, compassionate, considerate and caring; that a certain someone wouldn’t know what to do without them in their life. And to top it all off, someone needs to know that they are beautiful inside and out and that no one else could hold a candle to them.

Is this someone you? You may have to be the someone who makes another person feel the way you want them to make you feel. Life is reciprocal…you get what you give…reap what you sow. Do to others as you would have them do to you. (Luke 6:31) It’s widely known as “the golden rule”

So, if you are the someone in question and are not being fulfilled to your expectations, even after doing the sowing thing, then perhaps it’s time to borrow the mirror on the wall from the evil queen in the Snow White fairy tale…whatever it takes.

(The idea for this blog came from a post on someone’s Facebook page and I decided to mix being serious with a little fun and fancy. However, it is always uplifting to hear nice things about one’s self, so let me tell many of you that my life is much brighter and happier because you are in it, and all of you are beautiful.)

 

 

Time Traveling

Posted on by

“Into this cold, stark world, naked and afraid, with a slap on the rump to give us breath and start us on the road to death.” This is a quote I read years ago and for some reason kept in my notes. When you think about it, it is not too unlike the poem, “The Dash”, written by Linda Ellis and posted on my July 19th blog this year. Both the poem and the quote give thought to the time between our birth and our death.

Whether our lives are short and sweet or long and sometimes arduous, it is the time between day one and the final day that matters. It is how we lived, loved, served; how we treated each other, how we forgave, how we acknowledged others, how we humbled ourselves. It is being open to teaching and learning life’s lessons and sharing our knowledge; it is about comforting, consoling and caring; it is about interest in others over self-interest, and it is coming to terms with “the after”.

There are those who believe that death is death and that is that; nothing more, nothing less, nothingness.

And then there are those who believe that death is a continuation of life, and to those who look forward to seeing their previously departed loved ones, death can only be a blessing after a journey along that road that began with our first breath.

So, rather than shed tears at the departure of a dearly loved friend or family member, I choose to smile, knowing that their real journey has just begun. The journey to life everlasting where only love rules…unconditional love…finally…after all that time traveling.

Psalm 23:4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil,

 

 

 

 

He Died Alone

Posted on by

On Friday, I attended a memorial for yet another of our church members. This man was relatively young…under seventy. Unlike other memorials we’ve had, this was very sparsely attended, because Andy tended to be somewhat of a loner since his parents died a few years ago. He was devoted to his parents and especially his mother after his father passed. He brought her to church every Sunday, wheeling her up to the front of the church where she could see and hear everything, even though she was far from understanding anything. You see, she had Alzheimer’s Disease. But that didn’t stop Andy from being the attentive son he always was. His parents were the only family he had here in Canada, though I’ve been told there were a few cousins in Holland.

Although none of us at the service felt we knew the man very well, in his meditation, our Pastor made it possible to get a glimpse into Andy’s lonely life. He spoke of his dedication as a teacher, his political affiliations, his generosity, his devotion to his parents. Andy donated and dedicated several hymn books to the church in memory of his parents. I opened one on Sunday with his name in it. Even though Andy’s ashes were in plain view, awaiting interment in our cemetery, it was Andy the man who occupied my mind during Friday’s ceremony.

I could see him sitting in a back pew or even in the Narthex, slightly disheveled, but attentive. Very seldom did he mingle after service for coffee or tea as most of us did. He came, he worshiped, he left…or so it seemed. (In case you’re wondering how I could see him sitting at the back of the church, I’m in the choir facing the congregation.)

There is a a saying that someone can be conspicuous by their absence…that was Andy on Friday, and the weeks previous to his death. He died peacefully in his sleep one night and save for Jesus, he died alone.

 

 

“Churching”

Posted on by

Someone recently asked me, “Are you still churching?” Once, when I was overseas, I was asked if I missed going to church. The answer to the first question was an emphatic “yes”. The answer to the second was that I don’t need a building to go to church; church is in my heart.

However, when I do go to church, this is the one I attend, and when I’m unable to attend, this is the one I carry in my heart; my church, St. Andrew’s Presbyterian, Scarborough. This is where I am today. Happy Sunday.