Party Followup

I recently decided to revisit some of my older posts and give them a light edit. Yes, I’ve been a paid content writer for many years. And no, what you read here may not reflect the polished, multi-draft work I once submitted to professional editors. If that sounds like a disclaimer, it is. 

At times, I’m surprised by the errors and the rough structure I find. But I’ve come to see this space differently. A blog, for me, is less about perfection and more about honesty. These posts don’t go through multiple revisions or an editorial team. They are written in real time, as I am living and learning. They are often published the same day I write them.

Managing ME/CFS has meant adjusting my expectations even further. Brain fog is real, and it’s one of the reasons I’ve stepped away from paid writing. Still, the instinct to write remains. Writers must write.

So this is where I continue—sharing updates as I’m able, refining when I can, and allowing the words to come as they are.

Post Summer Party Report

I re-read a post here. It was about planning a backyard party in 2024 against my better judgment. 

I didn't want to disappoint my husband who suggested the event. I wanted our adult children to see some of their extended family. I tried to simplify the menu and routine, give explicit instructions to the guests, write myself a schedule, and pace myself. 

I framed it as a test I was to walk through. 

Now for the honest report.

It was a disaster for my health.

On paper, it looked manageable: buffet-style, food kept warm. I'd even splurged on a 3-pot warmer set. Guests would be arriving between 1 and 5 p.m. But the reality is, the timing shifted! Early guests cancelled! Swimmers arrived hungry. Out-of-town family didn’t appear until much later. Before I knew it, my head was spinning--exactly what I didn't want to happen. 

I had tried to accommodate dietary preferences, which added complexity to what was already meant to be simple. When the final dish didn’t cooperate and appliances failed, I found myself scrambling.

There’s a particular pressure that comes when people are hungry and looking at you for answers. I heard lots of, "I thought you said..."

Was I really being called on to explain myself? 

With arrival times constantly shifting, ravioli not cooking through fast enough, extension cords not working, my ire was up! Add in, me trying to act as both maître d’ and hostess while staying within my physical limits, the strain compounded quickly.

The result wasn’t just a stressful afternoon. It was a physical crash that lasted at least a week. The kind of Post Exertional Malaise (PEM) that reminds me, firmly, that good intentions do not override chronic illness. 

I went into hosting this party believing perhaps God was testing me—that with His guidance I could pull it off. I plunged ahead, which is exactly what those of us with ME/CFS are cautioned not to do. Push through. Override the signals. Trust adrenaline.

A week later, I was mostly bedridden. Completely depleted.

I had prayed. I asked the Lord for wisdom, for simplicity, for help in the planning. But prayer is not a substitute for the physical boundaries He has written into my body at this life stage. No amount of careful preparation—or sincere desire to serve—can erase the cost of overextension.

And so the lesson became clearer than the menu plan ever was: it is time to lay down hosting large gatherings in this way. 

I recall my own mom layed down hosting the entire extended family when she was about my age too. Now I see why. And I've stuck to this new rule I've made for myself more or less over the last couple of years.  

This blog post isn’t written to assign fault. I'm an overthinker and worried I'd failed. I wanted everyone to have a nice time. I got no feedback. Not one "thank you for having us."

What I got was creamed. I faced the reality of living with ME/CFS. If I host, cook and try to adapt, there is a margin I must respect. When I cross it, my body knows. I pay a price. 

Early March Report

This winter has been long and sleepy for me yet again. But I understand my body better and the need to give it permission to rest.

I have also realized many others have quietly fallen into similar patterns since the pandemic—working from home or staying in more, ordering in, living in softer routines. I'm not the only person for whom life has changed! And being north of 60 may have something to do with it.

Here in Ontario, Canada, winter doesn’t always invite you outside. Snowbanks, cold wind, gray skies, ice. It’s easy to slip into what almost feels like a kind of human hibernation. But I helped with visiting feral cats, fed the wildbirds daily, took photos of beautiful scenes, and enjoyed Internet scrolling. My indoor chores included one task here, one there--nothing dramatic.

Now I’m looking toward spring but know it's best to adjust my expectations. It won't be 20 C here until May!

So. . . I’m not planning a sudden transformation. My plan is simply to wake up slowly with the season. When the snow melts, I’ll start with small outdoor walks again. I'll catch a few rays on my porch. I'll get to my gentle exercise class and maybe add in one more or use my home equipment. I'll prepare my body for gardening!


Winter can quiet our spirits, but it doesn’t have the final word. We will rise again! 😅

May the warmer days revive our energy. May we find fresh joy in simple things and energy to step out into the unusual! And may God grant each of us new purpose for the days ahead.

Are there Simply Too Many Church Options?

A Mennonite Church

Are there Simply Too Many Options?

Much like the overwhelming selection of 100 to 200 cereal options in a grocery store, the variety of church styles today is vast. When there was just one community church, it served as a central hub for worship, social life, and support, fostering a sense of unity and shared purpose. Now, with so many churches offering different styles of worship, doctrines, and approaches to community life, it can lead to fragmentation.

This diversity likely stems from the desire to cater to different preferences and spiritual needs. While I won’t delve into the history of how each denomination or individual church formed its unique format, I will say that my husband and I have visited many different types of churches over the years and now have a few thoughts and opinions about them.

(We job transferred three times and in each new location, we visited a number of churches before choosing one.)

We all worship the same God, but do it differently.  Of course, what matters are the basics. But atmosphere matters too.

As I lay in bed last night mulling over this topic, I reflected on a number of church settings I've visited:

1. Church plant using a school auditorium: (We visited more than one of these). 

This type of location may be hot without air conditioning. The chairs may be uncomfortable chairs, the acoustics strange. Reliance on parishioners is steep for set up, tear down, and help with childcare or teaching. 

For us, there was pastoral pressure for more involvement and outreach, but being part of this church we were part of was not our paid work. My husband had a fulltime job. I had young children to care for. 

Church at this type of facility, while exciting in some ways, felt temporary.

2. Church in large facility: 

Generally, this church is in a very nice space with rooms for every activity. There may still be some pressure to volunteer. Cliques may exist between long-time members and newcomers, making connection difficult. While this setting feels like a proper church, the larger crowd can leave you feeling like a spectator, unsure how to meet people or fit in.

3. Church in a movie theatre (with or without popcorn): Yes, we experienced this too. For us it was unique, comfortable seating, but it did not give us a feeling of a full church experience. We knew it was temporary. Logicstics are difficult in this type of setting. 

4. Church startup in shared facility: This one we attended felt copycat. This group of believers tried to use the formats as larger churches do. They formed a standard worship team and projected the same popular worship songs on a screen. 

Because it was in a rented building, the full church feeling was not possible. This church failed to takeoff. 

5. Church in a commercial building with satellite feed but on-campus worship team: This one also felt like something was missing in the full church experience. People didn't seem to inteact which is okay for introverts who just want to sit in church. But for others who want connections, it was heartbreaking. 

This type of church gave us a spectator feeling. 

6. Church in large renovated facility from the same denomination you were brought up in and found to be legalistic: 

We visited churches that were of the same denomination I grew up in. But in younger years, once leaving my hometown, I learned what legalism is and saw how much I'd been indoctrinated into such. I feared getting to know people in that denomination again. 

7. Old church building:  These churches still exist though they aren't well attended these days. I couldn't help but smell old person on the cushioned seats and I wondered how often they were cleaned. I heard creaky floors. Most in the pews had silver hair. The music from hymnals drags and is a little off key.

8. Small church meeting in rented facility: This church had moved around a bit trying to find home while still being able to pay the rent. The interaction was good as prayer requests were taken from those seated. It was intimate, but too intimate for some. It is difficult to keep going to a small church like this where you can't help but be noticed. And with being noticed, it's hard not to wonder what commitment others might expect of you.

 

________________________

Valid considerations:

I’ve experienced every type of church described above. Choosing a church to become part of is complicated. 

Stepping into 2025

 

Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year!

As we step into the new year of 2025, it’s a great time to pause and reflect on the lessons and growth from the past twelve months. Have you taken time yet to reflect on what lessons you learnd in 2024? 

Here are a few prompts I jotted down in my journal: 

• Applaud yourself, and focus on what is going well
• Ask for or hire help as needed
• Be generous, give when you can
• Be yourself, not what someone wants you to be
• Celebrate that you are healthy!
• Don't catastrophize about what might happen, live in the present
• Give your problems to God, let go
• Let go of trying to control everything
• Nurture your faith, and tend your soul
• Pray for others and your own situations
• Set your boundaries and stick to them realizing they are for your own good
• Speak less, listen more
• Stop being a perfectionist
• Trust God, don't worry so much
• Watch less TV news, there's a lot of fear-mongering going on

One of my huge personal realizations this year has been understanding the root of my ongoing fatigue and its connection to Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS) and associated waves of myalgic pain. Gaining clarity and names for these challenges has been transformative—it’s given me a direction for managing them better so that I have the best quality of life I can have. And ruling out other possible issues has been liberating. All other tests were negative. I'm healthy!

Through research, medical advice, and trial and error, a key word emerged that shaped my year. It is what professionals recommend for those with. That word is pacing. 

Learning to pace myself intentionally has been a game changer, and it’s something I encourage everyone to consider for themselves. Whether you choose to pace yourself for your health, your goals, or simply balancing life’s demands, pacing can make a difference. 

What word or concept shaped your 2024? How might it guide you in 2025?

A New Season, A New Blog

I'm excited to announce the launch of yet another blog! 

I considered adding the new posts here to save time, but after some prayer and a timely email I received, I felt led to create a dedicated space on a new Blogger platform. This new blog dives into the growing conversation around the deconstruction of Christian faith. If you're curious about why church pews are becoming emptier, why your own desire to attend church in person might be fading, or what others are doing in response, I invite you to tune in and explore these topics with me.

The new blog is here