Manitoba Farmers and Canadian Food Grains bank supporters had a chance to get a perspective of one of our world's current tragedies, and at the same time, hear from someone who experiences first hand, the good work being done by Canadian Food Grains Bank. Jihad Haddad, is a pastor in a church in Lebanon. Canadian Food Grains Bank invited him to Canada to speak at a series of banquets to tell us how the money is used that the grow projects raise. Jihad also joined the CJRB Morning show
Jahid's presentations included events, Tuesday in Winkler at the Winkler Mennonite Church, Wednesday in Winnipeg at the Fort Garry Fellowship Church and Thursday in Brandon at Bethel Christian Assembly
Everyone has a SPECIFIC favorite Christmas carol, by a specific artist. And we would love to play it for you! A Story For the Season is a feature that lets YOU call in your favorites, and they will be played randomly at 7 :10 and at 11:00 AM every day between November 24th and December 20th.
Call in your favorite song and artist at 1-800-285-4159!
What Your Home-Ec Teacher Never Told You (Or did, but you weren’t paying attention…)
What Your Home-Ec Teacher Never Told You (Or did, but you weren’t paying attention…)
One of the more prevalent, albeit less sinister lies that is foisted on society is The Recipe ‘Ready In’ Time. You know, when you want to try your hand at Chicken a la King, and the recipe states very clearly, “Ready in 40 minutes!!”
No problem!! I’ve got time for that!
For many years I’ve believed this heinous lie. Maybe it’s because I’m generally a bad estimator of time, hence my chronic tardiness (sorry, kids). Maybe it’s because I’m a delusional idealist, hence my collection of jeans that don’t fit. Or maybe it’s because the time listed is assuming that everything will go absolutely right.
It doesn’t take into consideration the time I need to run to the neighbour’s because I’m out of sugar. It doesn’t count on me having to Google a substitution for buttermilk. It doesn’t account for me having to go on a mad hunt through the dishwasher slash stack of clean dishes slash stack of dirty dishes for measuring spoons.
Dependence on this ‘Ready In’ time as a realistic expectation for when your Lemon Chiffon will come out of the oven is a recipe for disaster. See what I did there?
It’s kind of like using someone else’s experience as something I could expect for myself. Like wanting someone else’s wisdom or spiritual maturity without going through the ‘work’ of it.
I’m slightly addicted to blogs, and love reading honest accounts of people who have learned something. Who have gone through an experience and have come out with a knowledge, and a wisdom, and who are willing to share it.
I love being able to relate. I love connecting. I love hearing someone’s experience and going, “Yes!! Me too!! I’m not crazy!! Or, we’re both crazy, but at least we’re on the same bus.”
I want to be less self-oriented, and I want to be a good spouse, and a good parent and good friend. I want to grow closer to God. I want to know what it means to love my neighbour. I want to be a responsible recycler and, for the love of Pete, remember to bring reusable bags to the grocery store.
But my problem comes when I have expectations that if I do what that person did, I will have the same results. If I use the same parenting strategies, or relational strategies, or cabbage soup diet, things will turn out that way for me too.
Wouldn’t that be nifty?
Well, I’ve tried it, and so far it has not really worked out. Not with recipes, or parenting, or God seeking, or Jane Fonda workouts. But I have noticed a few things. When I drop my expectations (or at least try to), I can notice things happen. There are some things that you can’t just read about. You just have to go through it yourself, and there are no promises. Well there is one promise – that God is good, and that he loves us.
We need each other. We need each other’s stories. Just like I need the recipe – I’d be pretty lost without it. Even so, I can follow it, but I will probably not be done in the time stated. And heck, it will probably not turn out like the picture either.
I can hear someone else’s stories, and I can learn from them (I hope). But mine will not be the same. I will have my own experiences – regular, every day happenings, and some that are more powerful – which is sometimes the same thing. I can choose to ignore them while I pine after someone else’s experience. Or I can try to be quieter and listen to my own. God speaks to us every day.
And maybe, hearing someone else’s stories without the driving motive of self-improvement, brings something better. A connection. A glimpse of understanding. A mile in their shoes. Empathy.
If my goal is to know God, I’m pretty sure that is part of it. And a true journey that is my own will mean more than an attempted copy of someone else’s. Because results may vary. And actual product may not be exactly as shown.
At least not on the outside – which, as it turns out, is not really the point.
In honor of Remembrance Day, singer/songwriter Brenda Major of Carman has written and recorded a song. A song dedicated to the war veterans in honor of the 100th anniversary of World War 1. Brenda's Grandfather fought in this war and lived to tell the story.
Our Made in Manitoba Guest, was an "in the studio" visitor. Lorenzo Friesen brought along his guitar, and his love for music. Here is One and Only, as performed in the studio, by Lorenzo. You can also find out more about his music, and the just released Single, My Country Roads at http://www.lorenzofriesen.com/
Full Moon names date back to Native Americans tribes -- keeping track of the seasons by giving distinctive names to each recurring full moon. Their names were applied to the entire month in which each occurred. According to the Farmers Almanac, the moon of November is the "Full Beaver Moon". November was a time to set beaver traps before the swamps froze, to ensure a supply of warm winter furs. Another interpretation suggests that the name Full Beaver Moon comes from the fact that beavers are now actively preparing for Winter. It is sometimes also referred to as the "Frosty Moon".
I am in love with fall. While some of us can’t fully appreciate fall because winter lurks nearby in the bushes, some of us absolutely embrace it and don’t mind saying good-bye to the sauna we call August.
This was never more real to me than the summer I was pregnant with my fourth child. With six weeks left to go, my doctor informed me that I was having a few circulatory issues. Nothing serious, but I would need to wear compression stockings for the remainder of my pregnancy.
Compression stockings. In summer. I abhor any type of hosiery at the best of times – this absolutely cannot be overstated. But can you appreciate the effort it took for an 8-month pregnant woman to try to shoehorn herself into a garment that boasts 240 PSI?
Once I hit my due date, I was done. I quit wearing them. I didn’t care anymore. Circulation be darned!!!!
I was over-due. I was sweltering. And we were bored. So we got on our swimsuits, packed a small department store’s worth of kid paraphernalia, and headed to the pool. A good time was had. We took some pictures, and two days later our beautiful baby girl was born.
Months (years?) later we developed the pictures. Yes, developed – go ask your parents. When I saw the picture of myself in a swimsuit (I usually gain 50 to a jillion pounds during pregnancy) I looked at my husband and said through gritted teeth, “Bruce!! How could you let me go out in public that way??!!”
In that deer-in-the-headlights moment, when husbands know they are about to be hit with a full-on hormonal juggernaut, he replied, “Wait, what?? You looked fine! And besides, how exactly would THAT conversation have gone? ‘Um, honey… You probably shouldn’t be seen like that in public.’”
Good point. Wise man. Safe man.
Partly, he may have been maneuvering his way out of commenting on a pregnant woman’s size. I mean, what would become of the children with their mother in prison? But knowing Bruce, I think he did really see me differently than I saw myself. Better than I saw myself.
This is something that I need to constantly work on. For myself – to see myself how I was created, as opposed to some punishing ideal. It’s coming along.
Lately I have realized how I have not been doing this well, when it comes to other people. How I lump people in camps and often assume the worst in their intentions. Just to name a few camps, you’ve got Left or Right, Liberal or Conservative, Progressive or Fundamental. People who get my jokes or people with no sense of humor. I’m kidding. Sort of.
I subconsciously start to believe that people are incapable of an individual thought. And if I’m not careful, I put myself into a camp and start to take on the beliefs that seem to go with it. And I start to assume that everything my camp does and says is right. But what I have started to realize, is that in there are contradictions within each. There are hypocrisies within each. There are judgmental attitudes within each. Why? Because there are people within each.
But that means there is also love within each.
When I think of my early spiritual influences, words that come to mind are ultra conservative and legalistic. And I do think there were some damaging philosophies and attitudes. But when I think back to the people, I also remember people who loved God, and who loved me. I know this because I felt it. And I know this because I still feel it when I bump into them now.
When I put people in camps I take away some of their humanity – they are just part of an entity. And it’s easy to write off one entity while I idealize another.
And while I’ve been so busy kicking back against judgmental and condemning attitudes, I’ve become judgmental and condemning. I’m not really speaking truth in love. It may be truth, but I’m speaking it in bitterness and pride and a general urge to exact my self-righteous revenge for all the times I was led to believe that the Kingdom of Jesus exists solely in my actions or how I dress.
What does this have to do with compression stockings and uber-pregnancy? Not too much. But it has to do with how we see things. I wrote off who I saw in that over-due pregnant lady in a swimsuit picture because I put her in the camp of unbeautiful. Bruce loved that picture because he saw me. And our baby. And our life.
And when I look at someone, do I see a camp? Just part of an entity? Or do I see a person? Someone I may or may not agree with, but someone who is capable of both love and not-so-much, just like I am.
Along the path to knowing God, we will get some stuff wrong. There will be times when our beliefs line up with Jesus, and there will be times we miss the mark. There will be times when we act in love, and there will be times when our motivation is anything but. This path is paved with grace – and this is what moves us forward.
In this way, we are all in the same camp – Camp Hope.
1) Brush off your boots to remove any big pieces of dirt and debris to make it easier to clean. Then take your favorite gentle body soap, water, and a towel and gently clean off your leather boots.
2) Prepare a half water and half vinegar solution, the agent that's really going to do the trick to remove those salt stains. Spray the mixture from a spray bottle onto your boots particularly where the salt stains are. Then, wipe your boots with water just to remove any excess vinegar that might be drying to your boots.
3) To replenish the moisture that can be lost from using vinegar on leather boots take some of your favorite hair conditioner and spread it liberally to your leather boots. Then wipe clean your boots again if necessary to remove any excess moisture. Balance is the key.
When the Westman region wants local news, weather, and sports online and on-demand, they turn to Discover Westman.
As Westman's website for local job listings, free classifieds, garage sales, family events, business directory and weather cancellations, Discover Westman makes it worth the trip.