I have a sugar hangover.

After an evening of stuffing my face with sugar there is still one phrase ringing in my ears.

“Just take one”

Many parents have to divide and conquer on these types of evenings. One person goes around with the kids door to door while the other stays back and hands out the candy.

The alternative:  leave an exposed bowl of candy on the porch with a sign that says:

“Just take one”

That didn’t work out so well for us last year – our big Tupperware bowl of candy ended up in one child’s bag.  I’m sure of it.  So this year I decided to stay home and distribute our $50 worth of candy to more than just one goblin.

Please don’t  judge that child who happily skips up the driveway, grabs the bowl and tips over half of it into her bag then proceeds to giggle and cheer that she got all the candy.

My kids screamed down the street – “Hey!  There’s a “take one” house just over there!”  Yup, I am a parent of a child who was probably one who took more than one.

Don’t be so quick to judge.  How often have you taken more than just one?  You have but one life and so often you live as if you have more.

Some of us struggle with trying to do more than possible for just one person. We fill in the gaps other people leave and take those responsibilities upon ourselves.  When in fact, we are only designed to live but one life – those tasks weren’t ours for the taking and should be left alone.  Its rightful owner needs to find them again.

That’s my struggle.

Just take one.

Some of you struggle with collecting things. More things
than one person really needs. More things then God ever designed us to have in the first place.  Its never enough – a sorry little game that to many have become prey to.  The end is ugly.

 Just take one.

Others will mess up by collecting relationships they shouldn’t.

They just take.

That one you have your eye on is already taken.  She is committed to “just one” – so too are you.

Others forget that they are in fact entitled to take one.  You are allowed to be who you are so intrinsically designed to be.  Don’t ever let someone take that away from you.  You are responsible to actually take one.

Take one.

And the list could go on.  Some take too much and some too little.  We create new chaos each year.  Grabbing unto or reaching out for more than one thing at a time and things that do not belong to us.  Things we are not entitled to.  They control us.  They were never meant to control us.

How do I figure out the art of taking just one?

Thats part of your journey and part of mine and hopefully you and I will surround ourselves with people who will hold you up to it.

So before you are annoyed with the child who took your bowl of candy off your front porch last night or reached into your bowl for “just one” more.

Ask yourself.

Did you take more than one today?

Galatians 5:22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23 gentleness and self-control.Against such things there is no law.

I’m the canvas this time.

Some will argue I shouldn’t and I suppose you could be right.

I am a person who likes to have reminders, symbols if you will, to remind me of the things that are important to me.

Tattoos are great conversation starters.

The art – infinity symbol and a feather. The two paired to create a symbol to reflect part of my journey.

The infinity symbol – part of this is my fascination with numbers. When asked what my favourite number was as a teen I usually said something like “4”, “7” or whatever the guys hockey jersey was at the time I was dating him. But those numbers have never really been my favourite.  The boys didn’t turn out to be my favourite either – although they all taught me something…

My real answer is “infinity”.  If we could call it a number it would be my favourite
It’s not really my lucky number  – difficult in a draw or to use to count to when playing hide and seek. Infinity is an abstract concept describing something without any bound. Larger than any number. Used as “number” in my mathematics classroom – but its not the same as counting numbers, natural or real numbers.

More of an idea – it cannot be measured.  If I try to add a number to infinity – I still get infinity.

Not big.  Not huge.  Bigger than – a googolplexian (I think that’s the name).

Endless.

We actually don’t have anything like it in our world. Completely boundless.  You can’t “get” to infinity.  Infinity doesn’t “do” anything.  It just “is”.

Limitless. An intriguing concept.  That’s why I like it so much.

Infinity paired with a feather.
I have not earned this feather (see previous post on feathers).

Feathers need to be earned – and in fact – given to you.  But this feather is different – it wasn’t earned but it was still given to me.   It represents freedom.

Infinite freedom.

Freedom do be who God designed me to be because he bought my freedom.

Is there such a thing as infinite freedom?

I’m not talking about a life without restraint – a life where I can do anything I want or say anything I want.  Money can’t buy it for me either.  It’s more the type of freedom that sets you free from fear.

Truly being able to be you – no masks needed.  Letting go of your false self.

My feather will look different then yours.  Its colours and purpose will be different too.  God designed it so perfectly perfect.

God’s love is limitless and my freedom was bought for a price but given to me without merit. Being loved exactly as I am allows me to live in true freedom.

So often we forget that – or simply do not accept it.  Perhaps we make it more complicated than it really is.  What does a life of infinite freedom look like?  What do I need to do?  What does it mean I can’t do?  Too many questions and already too many rules.

You will figure it out as you go.  God’s fingerprints are in everything He created.

That includes you.

Live in that freedom.  Live in boundless freedom.  Remember infinity doesn’t “do” anything – it just “is”.

Just be.

I think it’s a simple but profound way to live.

They seem to be the latest fad – an intense and widely shared enthusiasm for something, especially one that is short-lived and without basis in the object’s qualities; a craze – at least that’s what I have noticed.  Feathers on pillows, blankets and t-shirts. Feathers on jewelry and decorations for your home.

It’s on packaging and signs.  

Companies use it as a logo.  A marketing strategy.

I wonder why others like them so much.

Feathers are not my latest fad – I’ve drawn them many times.  I can flip back to old pictures I drew as a teenager and they have always been a part of my sketchbooks. I remember hanging them in my room. They were part of my dream catchers.

Recently, however, I have enjoyed them in a way I haven’t before.

Natives have used the feathers for centuries as a symbol of trust, honour, strength, wisdom, power, leadership and freedom to name a few. The meanings will also depend on which bird the feather comes from. The colour of the feather gives it different meanings as well.  The feather falls to the ground as a gift – not by accident – but with a purpose.

Not everyone gets to wear a feather. Very much a symbol of honour. Most had to be rewarded or presented with a feather before one could wear one.

The church has used feathers to represent virtues. Three of them – for charity, hope and faith. A symbol of a virtuous soul and used as wax seals on documents so you would know that it came from a virtuous man.

 A symbol not to be used lightly or without thought.

God assures us of being under his wing of protection. It’s a reminder of ones protection – a realization that we are precious and loved by the Creator. Perhaps that why my sister in law asked to have a painting done for her home.  Serves as a reminder – a sign post if you will.  With a verse to remind us that we are covered with God’s feathers and under His wings we will find refuge – a sanctuary.

Painting the verse was hard – perhaps for a couple of reasons.

I don’t often paint letters.

I painted the verse in reverse order to be  sure I had enough room.

“refuge, find will you.  Wings. His.  Under (and) Feathers.  His.  With you cover will He.”

Makes sense no matter which way you read it!

Backwards, forwards – no matter what your journey looks like to others – it’s yours and it makes perfect sense to the One who created you.

 But it doesn’t make sense to others.

Still the words were difficult to paint.  I wonder if I truly believe the words.

Completely.  All the time?

The feather was easier to paint – more natural I suppose.

The blue in a feather represents peace and inspiration.  The black – protection. The Grey – peace and neutrality.

 I didn’t know that when I painted it.

Today – for me –  the feather symbolizes strength & leadership (eagle), freedom (flight) and a fresh start.

In years to come – the meanings may shift.

The eagle – When a feather comes from an Eagle it symbolizes great strength, courage, leadership and prestige. The feather represents to me the spirit of leadership. Leadership can lie dormant and for a time that is good. But there are also times where the gift of leadership is needed and necessary. A few years ago I experienced a shift in my life – nothing that I could really explain to others or put into words – it only made sense to me.  After a few years of silence my eagle was ready to take flight.

Flight for what? Flight to what?

I don’t know.

Perhaps just gliding.  But flying nonetheless.

Freedom – the feather can represent freedom – probably comes from the idea of flight – I’ve always wanted the ability to fly. When asked what animal I ever wanted to be it was always some sort of bird or wolf. Flight represents to me the freedom to fly where one needs to – with no restraints and usually with ease.

I am created to experience this freedom.

Each feather is perfect.  Each and every one is different.  Created just as it was supposed to be.  None of my feather paintings have looked the same.  I have a feeling more feather paintings will be needed.

A very intrinsic design.  A fresh start.

Perhaps the next one will take on a different form – next time I will be the canvas.

A friend, with a different story than mine will join me.

I sat quietly. Waiting for reactions.  Faces.  25 other facial expressions to watch.

Was I the only one?

The only one who didn’t find it funny? Maybe I didn’t get the joke – missed punch line.

Ironically some of the women laughed too – but we have been trained to do that.

It looks better if you laugh so they don’t see the scars it leaves.

“Only 4 more hours. You can do this Jen – 4 more hours. Shut up, smile and sit there. 4 more hours.”

More jokes as the hours press on – but less laughter I notice.  More flat expressions.  Ah – so is it the type of joke that is funny once but not so much the second, third and fourth time?

I cried.

All the way home.

Tears symbolizes the battle in my head – my heart and soul. Who is the too sensitive one? It was only a joke.  Get over it. You just don’t know how to have a little fun. You are too serious.  This is just how men are.  

A joke you say.  My soul didn’t find it funny.  If my soul didn’t find it funny then neither did my Creator.

We can do better.

Time to paint.  Feeling like something black and white.  Symbolizing struggle.

So what were the jokes you ask…

None worth mentioning – they make women objects – objects used only for man’s pleasure – and on his demand.  They make spousal abuse sound funny and a man esteemed for speaking disrespectfully to his wife.  You get the idea – sadly probably the same jokes you have heard.

I am valued only for my breasts and how much I please you sexually.

Yes I just said that.

Imagine for moment with me. Male or female – think about what you said this past week – all the comments and thoughts you had regarding women. Got it?

Now.

Could you repeat that to your daughters face?

That’s right.

To your daughter – straight to her face. Look at her right now – and say those things. Oh you can’t…i see…

Is that what she is worth?

We can do better.

—

Home.

I hug my boys a little tighter today.  My daughter refers to some immature actions at her school today – I break the news to her.

 Some people never grow up.

Never mature. Never see the value in everyone – regardless of race or gender.

“What do you mean?”

I shared with her my day – sitting around a table with people who think its funny to belittle women.  My boys look at me. Curious. They don’t understand how mommy was hurt today. But I hope my tears will teach them.

Its not ok.

We can do better than this.

much better.

What’s the solution?  I don’t have one.  But I think it needs to come through men of honour.  Are there any left?

I want future generations to get it – finally get it.  My daughter should not have to deal with this.  If you are a man – please apologize to me on behalf of the men who feel the need to ridicule women and then please make the choice to stand up for your daughter, mother, wife, or sister.  Speak out when things are said that shouldn’t be said.

Too much to ask? Why?

“…Love your neighbour as yourself.  There is no commandment greater than these”

Am I not your neighbour?

—

“Mommy your painting looks like a heart”

That wasn’t my intention I wasn’t feeling very “heart-like”.

I’m weary.  The heart was by accident.

“Weary” June 2016

• perhaps this painting isn’t done – in a few days i’ll feel less intense and perhaps add to it…or take something away…

—

We have to do better.

There is no other option.