How is Your Courage?

"How is your courage?"

Since coming to my community and church I have learned a number of new words, phrases and terms that now grace my vocabulary. Out of all of them this my favourite.

To break it down even further I would say that the words "discouragement" and "courage" have changed my perspective on life. A strong statement for two words I realize, but I'm an English major - I'm allowed to have these kind of epiphanies.

I believe that discouragement is a positive word. We tend to use dramatic words with such finality when we're dissatisfied with our life circumstances. Sad, upset, depressed, angry, mad, hurt, resentful. Not that these feelings aren't warranted at times but I wonder if maybe we give these negative feelings far too much power by defining them all the time. After all, they are just feelings. Feelings come and go and are very biased to the situation or person they relate to.

To me, "discouraged" describes a state where you have demonstrated that you have courage, but something has happened that has made you forget that courage, suppress your courage or lose your courage. I think "discouragement" is a positive word because if you can acknowledge that you're simply feeling discouraged then the solution is easy! Go get more courage!

I don't know where to get "happy" or where to get "satisfaction" or "justification" but I know where to go to get courage.

First, you can find courage in the core of your being. It is something you can make a habit of self-producing. It can never be fully taken away away from you - you can just make more. You utilize your core courage by making conscious decisions about how you want to handle your discouraging circumstance. Each little decision to press forward, despite the circumstances increases your courage.

Secondly, courage can be given to you by your friends and family. It's a gift. Sometimes it's a few words, or a long talk, a hug or just their support. You might need this first before you can even find your intrinsic core courage factory. Having friends and family that can give you this gift is invaluable.

However, the most valuable place to go find yourself some new courage is in the Bible. Seriously! If you're not inclined to believe me then I don't know what else to tell you. . .good luck I guess? Did you know that God tells us to be strong and of good courage about 25 times in the Old Testament alone?And most of those times he is making a promise to see us through and lead us.


"Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the LORD thy God go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee." Deuteronomy 31:5-7


God spends a lot of time throughout the whole book trying to reassure us that He is with us, will never leave us, and has a plan for us. He is the cure for discouragement. By ourselves we may not have enough courage to get through but God can give us what we need if we ask. 


That's why I think the words "discouraged" and "courage" are powerful. They prompt you to take action. When I received "bad" news the other night, my friend noticed that I was upset and she hugged me and said that she knew it was discouraging. The little light in my head went on and I realized that the news was nothing but discouraging. I'm quite used to discouragement and I know how to handle it! My friend gave me courage, then I read my Bible and was encouraged enough that my personal little courage factory moved into gear. There's no need to wallow in discouragement if you know what you need to do. 


How is your courage?

Awesome Thing #5 ~ Weddings!

I always try not to over-romantacize weddings. I would rather go with the thought that the wedding is only one party out of a whole marriage. Maybe this is because as a kid I always thought I would jinx my own chances of getting married if I planned for it - kind of a "don't count your chickens before they've hatched" type of thing. So I wasn't/haven't been one of those girls whose had it all planned out since I was knee-high to a chipmunk.

The lack of my own wedding plans however, has in no way diminished my absolute love of weddings. Any wedding. I've been to traditional church weddings, backyard weddings, mountain weddings and even a surprise wedding in a park. I've been fortunate enough to have been a flower girl, a bridesmaid, a soloist, a speaker and a photographer at weddings. I've watched my grandmother re-marry after being widowed, I've watched close friends marry and I've celebrated with coworkers who have taken the plunge. I have yet to meet a wedding I didn't enjoy. 

After all, what's not to enjoy!? Family, friends, food, entertainment, beautiful dresses and ambience, gifts, speeches and memories. It's like an extra Christmas. On top of that, you get to share in the special day when two people you care about pledge their commitment to each other for the rest of their lives. It's an event that has the potential to remind you, once again, about what's important in life. 

There is one wedding experience that I have anticipated for a long, long, long time. Probably ever since I forced my little brother to marry his GI Joe to my Barbie. I definitely thought about it again when as teenagers my brother and I went out to a driving range and he told me that he was buying a promise ring for his then six-month girlfriend. Now there is an engagement ring on the left hand of that same "six-month" girlfriend and wedding planned for September! 

My brother marrying the love of his life. . .

AWESOME!!!!!

My brother marrying the love of his life, ensuring that my "almost-like-a-sister-in-law-friend" will officially be my sister-in-law. . . . .

EVEN MORE AWESOME!!!!!

My Mom's Story: Part V - Career Woman

My mother is an artist. I’m not sure many people are aware of this. I think this is because it’s such a natural talent - such a part of her that it doesn’t come up in conversation. It’s as natural to her as walking. No one brags that they can walk. Of course, the difference is that not everyone can paint.

Her medium is water colour and her inspiration is usually scenery. The mountains, flowers, farms, deer were all committed to canvas in a stunning combination of different shades of colour. I would love to be able to dissect and combine colour and light the way my mother does. Actually, I would love to have just a sliver of my mom’s artistic talent. I have been fortunate enough to inherit her creativity but I seem to often lack the finer artistic skill it sometimes takes to carry out my ideas. My mom’s combined talents of creativity and art have given her what we call “The Martha Stewart Touch.” This is evident as soon as you walk into my parent’s house. It’s never mattered how much money my parents had to play with - our family homes have always looked like the covers of magazines. Parties that my mom hosted had handmade chocolates swans and butterflies, animals cut out of melons and napkins folded like origami. When I went into Grade One we were supposed to bring one of our dad’s old shirts to wear when we were painting in art class. While the other little kids were wearing over-sized shirts with the sleeves rolled up, my old shirt had been altered in length, had sleeves with elastics in them, had velcro to replace the buttons and had my name on the front in puffy paint.

I can guess that most of you have drawn the conclusion that she was obviously a stay-at-home mom. You would be correct. My mom did choose to stay at home to look after my brother and me. My parents couldn’t afford this arrangement when I was born so I did spend the first few years of my life at a day care, but luckily this was an option after we came to Alberta. But as any stay-at-home mother will attest it is still a full-time job. Fortunately, my mom was also blessed with above average organizational skills, so I think she probably accomplished more in a day than average. Besides managing our household my mom volunteered, was part of a women’s group and made numerous craft projects which she sold at the local Farmer’s Market. She has also sold a number of her paintings at local art galleries throughout the years.

When I was 13 my mom decided to go back to work. She got a job as a receptionist at a large and reputable catering company. Not long after, the boss realized that her talents and her positive, cheery people skills could be utilized further and she was promoted to a Sales Representative. This usually meant dealing with “bridezillas” while they booked a date, the food and a venue. Customers valued her recommendations on colours, tablecloths and even centre pieces. My mom often went to these weddings personally to make sure the supper went off without a hitch. In 2001, when Edmonton hosted the World Championships my mom was chosen to manage the catering and design all centre pieces and decorations at the VIP Banquet at Fort Edmonton Park. She hired me to be her assistant that night and I got to see her work her magic as she did set up and quality control throughout. At one point she noticed that a dish hadn’t made it out onto the Royals buffet line and when she went to put it out on the table she unknowingly bumped into HRH Prince Edward as he and Sophie were spooning up supper. This will forever be a family story.

When the RCMP informed us that we would be leaving our home to move to Forestburg my mom had to leave her career in the catering industry behind. She had her hands full looking after her two kids. We were teenagers when we were given the decree to pack up and move to the rural town of just over 800 people and we were devastated. At 17, my parents supported my decision to stay in Spruce Grove and live on my own while I finished high school with my friends. However, my mom endured many a teary phone call from me as I related my loneliness at not being with my family. My brother had it harder as he was too young to stay behind, but old enough to know it wouldn’t be easy fitting in to a rural school where he would be the outsider that didn’t grow up there. He was also a star soccer player at a very high tier in Stony Plain. My mom committed to making the two hour drive twice a week with him so that he could continue to practice and play with his team. On top of that she got a job at the popular local deli making and serving meals. Her job became helping her family settle in to its new surroundings and circumstances. It couldn’t have been easy. The years that we spent in Forestburg changed Cam and I forever though. Cam found the love of his life and I made a financial footprint with two careers and an investment in real estate. I also learned that I much prefer rural living to being in the city. I owe all of that to my Mom.

My parents were transferred to Red Deer. Another “hub” as the RCMP calls it. My mom didn’t waste time in getting her resume out. She got a job at the local Winners/Homesense store. The job was the basic cashier/shelf stocking job. Some people may scoff at this because she was too highly qualified. I think that’s the problem with some people these days though. There’s such an attitude of entitlement. People don’t see far enough into the future to realize that what seems like a job “below” your talents or capabilities now may lead to a challenging and rewarding career path. My mom is excellent at seeing farther down the road. She also has such a positive attitude that she makes the best of everything, including the workplace. This attitude and dedication to her job has led her to be promoted three times (at least). Over a year ago the Winners corporation asked my Mom to manage one of their newest stores at Cross Iron Mills just outside of Calgary. She’s achieved the second highest sales in Western Canada after just one year and she’s aiming to be the number 1 store. The big chiefs at Winners have future plans for her as well and are moulding her for her next promotion. Watch for her name, she’ll probably be running all the stores in the country in a few years.

My mom chose to stay home with her kids. She’s moved around the province for her husband’s career. When she decided to re-enter the workforce she started small and worked her way up with determination, dedication and a positive attitude. She doesn’t have fancy degrees or letters after her name but she’s a successful business woman as well as a wife and mother. Not bad for a stay-at-home mom eh?


(Mom and her girls wearing matching "Shelter From the Storm" t-shirts, a charity for abused women that Winners supports. See www.shelterfromthestorm.ca)

There are only two more installments left in this series. Stay tuned!

My Mom's Story: Part III - A Little Family, A Lot of Love

I’ve always found it a bit odd when other women refer to their mothers as their “best friend”. It’s always seemed to me that a mother is not meant to be a best friend. She’s meant to be my mother, you can’t really add to that relationship. To be a mom is too unique, there’s no other relationship that we as a society so strongly value and yet abuse so much.

My mom decided to undertake this somewhat daunting relationship less than three years into her marriage. She and Sandy had been living in a small apartment in Kingston, Ontario. Mom had gone to college and studied a layout and design type of program. However, the year that she finished the program was the year the industry was completely revamped to facilitate new-fangled computer technology. This effectively made her training obsolete. In Kingston she was working at Woolco as a pharmacy assistant. My dad was in a security management position while he waited for his call-up to the RCMP. If I do the math it would have been around May 1984 when my parents would have told their family to expect the first new member on both the McKechnie and James side. My maternal grandmother was thrilled. However, when my parents brought her out to the site of their newest purchase - a confederation aged farmhouse in a hamlet called Yarker, she cried, upset that my father could consider bringing her pregnant daughter to live in such a rundown excuse for a home. She didn’t need to worry - Mom always has enthusiasm for all the projects she undertakes and she and my dad soon DIY’d that rundown farmhouse into a sweet, antiqued home.

Like many couples in their early 20’s just starting out, my parents lived paycheque to paycheque and as they have always told Cam and I, there were a lot of Kraft Dinner and hot dog suppers during this time. They had just had a hot dog supper the evening that my mother went into labour. When she suggested that they go to the hospital my dad wanted to know if it was okay if they finished watching “The A-Team” first. The trip to the hospital was further delayed when the car wouldn’t start. It was the middle of a January blizzard and here was my mom in labour with her first child waiting for her husband and the neighbours to get the car started. The delay didn’t really matter. I’ve never been one to make anything easy on my mother, including my birth. It took another 16 hours before I made my appearance mid-morning on January 9, 1985. My mother has always been ahead of the times in style and although in a very traditional sense I was named after both of my parents, the name they chose - “Alexis” was very modern and unique and a lot of people didn’t care for it. Today, I think it sits in the top ten or twenty of the most popular girls names in North America. My mom has told me that about a week after I was born my dad went back to work and after he left she remembers having an overwhelming feeling wash over her - that she was now completely responsible for this little warm sleepy body for about the next 20 years. Wow. Just writing that makes me feel overwhelmed. I must have not been too scary though because for my third birthday my mom gave me a baby brother. Cameron Allan James was born the evening of January 8, 1988. I remember sitting on my mom’s hospital bed wondering why she was naming him after a camera - he didn’t look like a camera.
It’s quite clear to me at this moment that I cannot sum up my mom’s affect on my childhood in this single post, so I may come back to it in later posts. For now, I would impart possibly the most important habit my mother raised us with which I’m sure she started from the day we were each born.

“I love you”: Mom told us she loved us every single day of our childhood, including when we were teenagers. Whether it was in the morning when we got up, when we left for school, following the debriefing of our latest misbehaviour, when comforting us or celebrating with us or at bedtime, at least once a day my mom told me she loved me.
I never had to wonder. This didn’t necessarily make punishments easier and it definitely did not prevent me from treating her poorly. However, I would never underestimate the power of these simple words repeated to me on a regular basis.

I would say that this practice gave me strength and confidence as a child. Kids might tease me and push me around, but at least I can go home to my mom who loves me the way I am. I’m a bit scared to try out for this team, but whether I make it or not my mom will celebrate with me or encourage me to try again. I’m not sure if I’ll get the highest mark on my essay this time, but Mom knows I worked hard at it and she’s just as proud of me because of that. This assurance in our relationship gave me the freedom to go make a place in the world knowing that she would be behind me all the way and that the words “I love you” would never be withheld from me, no matter if it was just an ordinary day or one of the biggest days of my life.

Back in 1988 my parents had been waiting patiently for one of the biggest days in all of our lives and it came shortly after my brother’s birth. It was the day we became an RCMP family and I think it prompted one of the most noble sacrifices any wife and mother can make.

To be continued. . .