Look it's distraction, or was it self-preservation?

Today, I started strong. I got a fire going again and immediately went to work on taking measurements for my problematic bay window. It was created wrong, and VERY thankfully seems like it will be recreated. Then I enjoyed some toasted open face mexican salmon sandwiches. Instead of going to get more wood screws (which has been put off at least three days now), I allowed myself to get distracted after this and set out to search out a whimsy I'd had while visiting Sherry's Aunt & Uncle. HerUncle had poured washed pebbles for his bathroom floor and then filled the gaps/coated them with epoxy and it was kind of cool. It somehow reminded me of being in Costa Rica and visiting a hot springs spa where all the pools were madewith lava rock. It seems like it should be inhospitable tostand on, but isn't. So I did a little investigating online into whether I could build a bathtub like this. It turns out you can, but it is not recommended. First you should be very experienced in tile-setting and second even then it is challenging, time-consuming, relatively costly and requires perfection of the many water-proofing details. Probably an idea not to pursue. So instead I looked at Japanese wooden tubs which are beautiful and artistic and also very costly - except for a note on one website that recommended, "or find a trusted, very experienced carpenter to build one for you." This shouldn't have encouraged me as I am not very experienced in fine carpentry but come on, I can't build a box? A box that needs 16 coats of finish to make it waterproof, but still. Reminders ran through my mind several times during this lapse of fancy, that I am not renovating my bathroom right now, but I didn't listen, until 2:00.

It was crunch time and I needed to see some production out of myself before Sherry's first Christmas present date. So I opted for the no-screws-required kitchen window, and treated myself to music via ipod whilst doing it (and passersby to singing). The very creative renovators who redid our kitchen before it was our kitchen decided that the window didn't need superlative trim - it needed cabinets built right to the edge of the glass and backsplash tile likewise on the bottom. All mostly fine and dandy, until I replace the window. Lucky for me I'm also very creative and realized, oh I can just reduce the window size and remedy this problem, after I'd already ordered the window the same size as the original. So the new remedy became everyone loves windows that are flush with cabinets and haveno trim and let's just knock that row of tiles right off. Who needs insulation on the sides of windows when some crazy person is adding 6" of rigid foam on top of this anyway?

I didn't let any of this phase me by the way, I didn't even care because what could I do about it now? I was also distracted by the fact that my fingers were going numb and I was only half-way through this little task. 3/4 of the way through my fingers were screaming at me. The last nail bent and received a severe tongue-lashing because it delayed me getting back inside the house to my fire where my hands would take 15 minutes to mostly thaw out. Back at the half-way point I was still thinking happy thoughts like - it's OK Nolan keep going, think of friends who need prayer, pressing through difficult things is a good way to pray for others to do the same. The last quarter brought me back to animalistic memories of being at work and being so cold that my mind begins to flip out and hate me for even existing. Are there El-Paca gloves with some sort of protective shell that still give your fingers great dexterity? No there are not, which is an ancient sign from God that unless you're already an Eskimo, you shouldn't try to become one.

Thank you Jesus for thinking of me when you asked me to stay and keep framing even though I knew what I was getting myself into starting my first day in a blizzard and going home early because it was close to minus 30. I'm sorry that Kyle & Terry don't know you yet, or really, any of the other guys I worked with in the last six years. That's why I stayed. I'm sorry I'm not super-Christian yet. I really want to leave and not frame anymore, and I don't feel like I need to. I know I listen less than I used to but need to do some more of that before concluding anything.

I'm glad I got to do something that challenged me, and let me be outside and tactile. I'm glad I got to meet some great people you love. I'm glad that you still think of me and will ask more things.

Thinking Alone In The Best (Sunniest) Room In The House

I have been in BC since Boxing (Sun)day, and yesterday Sherry and I drove to Walmart to pick up some things for her Mom and then to stop in and visit her Aunt&Uncle. But I was grumpy. I was glad to get out of the house and see some sunshine, but I was still inside a car, and then dreadfully, in a Walmart. Stores are obnoxious. Later, while we were visiting, her Aunt asked if I was going crazy yet from not doing anything, and I said yes. She smiled and said that's how Sherry's Uncle gets when they're on holidays, and really how he's been the past two years dealing with shoulder injuries. Yes I like doing things. Even though there are a lot of things that could be done around the house here, I feel like there are more pressing personal things that need addressed. But they're not being addressed. And I don't like them floating around.

We've thought of moving here for a year. Come out while Sherry's on maternity, and see more of her family. And my feelings aren't easily described regarding those thoughts. There are those pesky practical details like a home we own that has mortgage payments, and would my sister and her husband stay there? Would they be lonely on their own? I might be lonely if they were on their own. If we come out here what will that mean for work? I'd have to find something temporary back in Calgary after school for a few months until we came out, and then I'd have to find something temporary here. Temporary things don't usually pay very well, and there are those aforementioned pesky practical details. But who knows? I could end up with the best job of my life.

I have always lived in Calgary. The longest I've left is two months. Even though I enjoy travelling, and new places, residing is completely different. Residing anywhere will be completely different come June with the addition of a baby. But why only change that when you can pack up and move to the other side of the mountains too. What will that feel like to leave family and friends, work, church, and even a little bit of culture behind?

"I'll sail away, I'll sail away, forever and forever." It's an Ace Troubleshooter song line that has been floating through my head this week, reminding me of a prophecy that had me curious about this question before I even started dating Sherry.
A picture of an exploratory voyage. Except that the concept was music. I would have to sail away and leave, like an explorer to find my own sound. Music. Playing music is a forgotten fog.
More than that though, I know faith is known for uprooting people. Sherry even has friends in BC, and it would be nice to see them more except that they are leaving too. A family of six off to become missionaries in Africa, and Pam perhaps to school in California.
I suspect it's the uprooting I don't like the thought of. I can deal with change. Quickly in fact. Very soon it feels routine. But it's the temporary nature that is so unsettling. When you are dating, you have to try and make things happen, you have to woe. While you do this you must be fearless or you will fail. You won't be yourself, you will be false if you lack confidence. It's tricky though because you love, and cherish, and the thought of loss is frightening. If you make it through, marriage is a beautiful thing, because you have committed to each other and there is no longer even a question of loss by rejection (in my world) - and it becomes simpler to be free as yourself, even though you no longer live for yourself.
Places are like that too. If you know you will be, or might be leaving, you lose the moment. You're looking ahead, you're already disengaging. When we had the 'urban monastery' house of nine people together, I had a much harder time with the second year than the first. It seemed backwards. The first year was strange and such a steep learning curve of a challenge for getting along with all these other people and completely changing the way you get up and make it through your day. Trial and error, pain and failure, disappointment or not, I pressed on, and loved it, because we succeeded in the moments and there was joy. In the second year, so many had plans for moving on, and the moments disappeared.
How do you move somewhere if you know you'll be leaving soon? What meaning will all of the painful adjusting have if you are already planning to go again?
How can you even have trust?
I want to move in, and I will feel the need to change my environment. Clutter and darkness be damned. I want space and colour and light. I want fresh air from living plants, not cigarette smoke. I want to cook in the kitchen without worrying about waking someone sleeping in the chair across from me or looking at a television that thinks it should never be turned off. I want to cook things my way, if I'm the one cooking, not how you like to do it, and I don't want to eat your cooking if you're going to use ingredients I don't like.
Which is fine, I can kill all of this selfishness and work things out, if we can trust each other. But if I'm coming into their home, their territory, and want to make any changes. Changes have cost, have consequences. And how can those be welcomed if we will leave them in the end.
Even more frightening - how do we leave them in the end? How do you choose where to live? Because there will be that question. Why go back? Why are you leaving us?
Well...
Um...
My family is there.
But Sherry's family is here.
How do you decide which family your children will grow up being around. (Which leads me to another tangent about how you take the family you're closest to for granted and make more deliberate effort to spend time with the family you don't live near and only see occasionally).
I've thought about the question of place before and always thought - I don't move flippantly. If I have no reason to move, then why? If God asked me to. That's why. That would be a good reason to choose.
I've got two months to do home renos, and if I'm lucky, I'll finish early and get to spend some time in prayer and fasting, like six years ago.