We’ve had a few record-breaking cold days and nights (University of Waterloo weather station):
My wee dog is not built for the cold! That means when she goes outside to do the necessary, she runs back in as soon as possible. But she is also a small dog with lots of energy. When she runs like a mad fool around the apartment I feel bad for my “below” neighbours.
Today, by 11:30 a.m., with the sun shining brightly in the window, Billie started begging to go outside. So I put on her ‘boots’ — not an easy task, holding a squirming dog and at the same time trying to pull these boots on limp feet — her wool sweater and her windbreaker coat. And out we went.
The problem with the boots is she thinks she needs to run when she’s wearing them. It is very hard to slow her down.
I let her choose the route, mostly. We were out for about half an hour; I think she might have stayed out longer had I not wanted to come in. Her boots never came off in spite of her prancing and pawing.
When we got in this is what Environment Canada was saying (Breslau Airport):
Update:
Friday, February 20, this morning it is -26 at the airport, so I said to Billie, “Come, let’s go outside. But we’re going to put your boots on because it is so cold.” Instead of running to me at the door, she jumped off the couch and went and curled up in the corner of the recliner! I put her boots on her anyway. We made it just around the corner on Southmoor before she hurried back home to the warmth.
Here are some pictures scanned from slides, 1955 or ’56 — more likely the later, I believe, as I was not likely under a year old in these pictures, but that means brother Dennis, who would have been about 10 months at that time, was not along for the walk. I think it took place in the bush behind my grandparents’ home, near Steinmann Mennonite Church.
Is this something I would remember if there were not documented in film?
Click on the arrows in top right corner to go full screen.
Christ healing a bleeding woman Photo from Catacombes of Rome Source: http://campus.belmont.edu/honors/CatPix/womanblood.jpg Over 1500 years old 2d art
Now there was a woman who had suffered from a haemorrhage for twelve years; after long and painful treatment under various doctors, she had spent all she had without being any the better for it; in fact, she was getting worse. She had heard about Jesus, and she came up through the crowd and touched his cloak from behind, thinking, ‘If I can just touch his clothes, I shall be saved.’ And at once the source of the bleeding dried up, and she felt in herself that she was cured of her complaint. And at once aware of the power that had gone out from him, Jesus turned round in the crowd and said, ‘Who touched my clothes?’ His disciples said to him, ‘You see how the crowd is pressing round you; how can you ask, “Who touched me?”‘ But he continued to look all round to see who had done it. Then the woman came forward, frightened and trembling because she knew what had happened to her, and she fell at his feet and told him the whole truth. ‘My daughter,’ he said, ‘your faith has restored you to health; go in peace and be free of your complaint.’ Mark 5:25-34
Here is a story I love. This un-named woman, who for twelve long years has been excluded from her faith community because her haemorrhaging, hears that Jesus is near. Hope gives her courage to put aside all that she has been told about her unworthiness. Trust in her own innate sense of value whispers at she can do what others have forbidden. Faith propels her through the crowd, unmindful of who else she might be touching. Love of and desire for life abundant move her to reach out and touch Jesus’s robe. She does not wish to distract him from whatever he is doing; she does not want to disturb him or call attention to herself. Just touch his robe. And it works! Glory be! She knew immediately that her body had been healed!
And Jesus knew immediately that power had gone out from him. He asks, “who touched me?” His disciples think he’s crazy — so many people are touching him. Are they too being healed? I think not, for this woman’s touch was somehow different.
This is the crucial part, I think: the woman again takes responsibility for her own life and actions. She steps forward, so afraid and yet so filled with joy at her release. What will the penalty be for all the wrong she has just committed? Defiling so many by coming into the crowd. Touching, and making unclean, this popular Teacher.
Can you not see God’s infinite love in Jesus’s response? “My daughter” he calls her. Not sister, not mother, but daughter — one from your own heart and body, one you protect, nurture, love forever. He then affirms everything she has just done — her hope, trust, faith, love and desire for life. She was right, life abundant can be hers, too. Glory be to God!
[C]haracter — the willingness to accept responsibility for one’s own life — is the source from which self-respect springs. Joan Didion, Slouching toward Bethlehem
I let her choose the route, mostly. We were out for about half an hour; I think she might have stayed out longer had I not wanted to come in. Her boots never came off in spite of her prancing and pawing.
