Scones....

So I've been here in Vancouver for nearly 4 years now ( I know, who can believe it!?) and when I first arrived I went through several week long phases where I would obsessively bake anything that reminded me of New Zealand.

One week it was 2 dozen pink and brown lamingtons, which I took to work to wow the colleagues with, one week it was 3 dozen anzac biscuits, and for work last summer when I was catering meals for our summer program, I managed (with the help of Jana and a very large industrial stand mixer) 8 dozen mini pavlovas in one night.  I even started (for 4 months) a out of my kitchen meat pie company, aptly named Kiwigirl Pies, and marketed my wares to Mark's more than willing rugby teammates.

But I couldnt' do scones. Since I was a kid I was scared of them, so simple, yet so easy to mess up. I remember telling so many people "yup, I can bake just about anything,just not a decent scone" sad. And I called myself a kiwi.

But then, after flatting with several north americans I discovered American "biscuits". Hang on, this looks somewhat like a scone. Except more complex and with more stuff in it.....

hmmm, maybe, just maybe, if I can do these I MIGHT be able to pull off a scone....

And now I can.  Oat and Honey scones, Raisin scones, savoury chicken herb scones, and plain old "put some jam and cream on it" scones....

It's a beautiful and simple thing, yummy warm scones out of the oven....mmmmmmm

Flakey at best...

I feel sick.

Today we watched "Human Trafficking" (2005 Christian Duguay) and now I don't want to go to bed. The title is not a pun or hint. It's a movie about the trafficking of humans for sex around the world.

I can feel my brain, overfull, heavy between my ears, full of noise and pictures and thoughts that I don't want. Numbers and faces and facts and realities of the (dont' be offended now) SHIT that goes on in this world.

And the scary thing is that I've felt this way before.

It's 11.30, so the timing is pretty much perfect, but this time I'm sitting at home, at my computer with only 3 roommates at home, already in bed, and I'm alone. Last time, I was in my tiny corner of my DTS home with my 14 other roommates all clamouring and crying and trying to work through our horror after watching "Hotel Rwanda" during Jamie's Missional Living week.  

I thought I would puke then too.

The numbers of people, the faces, the pain, the depravity of the human soul that looks on another as a means of profit, something to be bought or traded, and enough to justify murder and abuse and lose of childhood and innocence. That one human being is worth more than another.

I ache, knowing that while both "Human Trafficking" and "Hotel Rwanda" are fictional films, both are only too true to the harsh realities of this world, and I have cried so many tears, then and now and so many days in between, desperate for mercy, retribution, justice.....

And yet....I know I've been here before, so tomorrow, I know I'll feel better.

On the assumption that I manage to fall asleep soon, I'll wake up tomorrow, only a few nightmares worse for wear, I'll pray a little, I'll start my day, and slowly, every day, it'll fade a little more, until I feel better again.

But those girls will still be there......the hopeful mail order brides to be will still burn with betrayal when their internet love sells them as a slave......the child who's parent sells them to a "talent recruiter" will still be there, in the hope of a better future.....the 'sex tourists' that plan brothels like trips to the beach or the museum as part of their vacation itinerary will still be there.....the internet, the street walkers, the pimps, the Johns, their wives.....it'll all still be there.....

How does it line up?

I remember being told when I was younger that I was a flake.  So quick to feel deep emotion, cry and let my heart bleed, and then pick up again until the next crisis. Valley to valley, never thinking how to change that valley, or being able to be at peace that the place I am in, has valleys enough, and I can't commit to it all, I can't cry for it all, no matter how deeply i feel it, how much it hurts.....So now I feel flakey at best.....waiting for tomorrow....

Moving on....

It's so strange....I'm writing this as I sit in my kitchen, while several people traipse through as part of our land lord's house viewing.

It's nearing the 6 week mark of when we will sadly leave this beautiful house, and move on to all the different paths that we are taking, and close this chapter of our lives.  It's been an interesting 2 years at 2736 East Georgia.  2 engagements, a couple of breakups, lots of coffee, tears and laughter, many late nights, parties, dinners, hugs, kisses, hundreds of loads of laundry, many barbeques, and more grumpy PMS days than we'd like to admit to!

But I know that I know that each of us is moving on a little older, a little more ready to face the world out there, and a little more close to each other and (I hope) to God, and an understanding of what community missional living can mean.

I ate perogie casserole for the first time in this house, I was proposed to in this house, and I've cooked 4 turkeys in this house, just to name a few milestones that have come to pass....

And now I'm getting married.

I'm leaving this house to move to my first house as Mrs. Mark Bergshoeff, which is exciting and scary and funny and strange and confusing and wonderful and.......you get the idea.

Who knew that on May 29th, 2005 I would be starting this journey, stepping on a plane, leaving New Zealand, and stepping into such a big chapter of my life here on the other side of the world. Vancouver is not quite the antipode of Auckland (http://www.antipodemap.com/) but it certainly feels like I have flown further from the nest than I originally planned.

Saying that though, in that (nearly) 4  years, I HAVE been to the antipode, to Spain, and to Morocco, to Scotland, England, Malaysia, Indonesia, Singapore, Australia, and the USA. 

What an adventure.......

oh, and p.s.: I know I don't blog much, so check for more frequent updates on our new wedding website for the Hillary and Mark Bergshoeff famiy...