Justice is an interesting beast.

I am not sure what I am going to write.l I know I am a vibrating mess. The last month and a half in my first ever home that I felt safe in, my world got turned upside down. We have had SWAT teams, gang task force, gunshots, neighbours calling police on me, people following my daughter and more stuff that slips my mind right now. Suffice it to say, it is time to move on. So after the human rights tribunal debacle, I found a new place. It's a bit more than I am paying now, however it is a nominal amount. And the good news? It is big, with a big yard, and four bedrooms, and two wood burning fireplaces (something my heart has desired forever). I am very excited. BUT it requires a TON of work. I have had to clean the entire place and it was DISGUSTING. I can't even describe the filth except to say that I have a commercial grade cleaner and it took washing the kitchen ceiling 3 times before it was clean. The carpets were soo dirty, nothing would clean them, and the place badly needed a paint job. So the deal we made with the rental company is this:  they would clean the place before we painted, I would paint (they would cover up to $300.00) and they would replace the carpets.

They renigged on the cleaning. And the walls could NOT be painted in the state they were in. It would peel in about 3 months. I explained this to them and they held firm. So I cleaned. And then I went to paint, well so far I am at about 500 and I have a ton left to go. So likely the paint bill will be close too 1000.00 that I do not have. The carpets come in on Monday.

What I have since discovered (still have to verify) is that in BC there is a law that states that a landlord renting a place has to clean it, paint it and repair damage. All of that except the carpets I have had to deal with myself. So my intention is to go ahead and do the work, clean the house, paint the house and then work to recoup the cost of the paint, not the labor just the paint cost. It is illegal for them to do this to me, and so I am looking to recoup the cost of the paint and supplies.

So my dad phones tonight and asks how things are going. I tell him the state of the house  and how things are progressing. Dad asked who is paying for all of this and so I explained about the cleaning and painting and the carpets and all hell breaks loose. I catch shit for trying to recoup my cost and he tells me that I should not be doing that and that I'm wrong. I should not be taking things to the level that I do and why the hell do I do that and think I can do that. I have no business taking things to this level ( the government) and he definitely does not agree with me. And why don't I just live somewhere else then. So I replied that I cannot afford anything else. He replied that I should stay where I am and why don't I? So I said that I am not going to continue to live in a place where the SWAT team descends upon my house and gun shots go off. His reply? Well that's all you can expect when you are only willing to pay 1500 and you should just suck it up and deal but definitely NOT fight this.I also told him that he doesn't have to agree with me but I am a 37 year old woman and quite capable of making my own decisions. He said I disagree. I said well I have raised three kids by myself for five years and have been doing it well. He said I don't want to hear all that. Through all this nattering about the take home message?

You are fkd up and I don't agree with what you are doing.

I told him numerous times that I did not have the energy to argue about this and if that was his intent then this conversation would have to happen another time. He said fine. So I said,k I love you dad, have a good night and good bye

He said bye.

He hung up.

Dear Mr. Thief

so, I thought that I'd write to you, not that you will ever see this but that matters not. I have now been affected and been your target twice. And so I thought I would share some of my thoughts with you. The first time we crossed each other's paths, was back in April. I took my kids away for vacation for the Easter long weekend. It was our first "vacation" in six years. And trust me it wasn't much of one. One of my girlfriends invited us up to her house so that we could get away and we went. So it wasn't a vacation in the truest sense, it was simply a bit of time away. We has a wonderful time and came back semi refreshed and ready to carry on. But you see, we came home to a house devastated with our few precious things gone. You chose to take my children's jewellery, their game system, our computer monitor, my jewellery..nothing that would net any great source of income, but things that were precious to me and my children.

Now, I am a single mother, barely making ends meet as it is. So really, nothing has been replaced My dad gave my kids an xbox 360 but apart from that, I have had not the income to be able to replace everything. I guess you thought that I had insurance and that I could replace things and so you would strike again. And this time? This time you took the last 3 remaining things that had any value. You took my laptop, my kids new xbox and my camera with which I make a living.

Can I ask you one question Mr Thief? Are you done now? Have you satisfied your lust for money, drugs and power? Are you done with robbing me?

I ask, not because I am mad at you. I ask because you stole things far more important than our stuff. And I ask because I need to know how to  keep my children safe. For you see, you didn't just take our material possessions. That is the least of what you took. You took our safety, our sense of well-being, our faith and trust in mankind and you took the innocence of my children as they have had to wrestle with the knowledge that there are people in this world who think so selfishly that they would bring harm to another person. You took our sleep, as we wake many times through the night at whatever noise is outside, wondering hoping and praying that we stay safe.

You see, I raised my kids to know something different. I raised them to believe in the goodness of man. I raised them to trust that good people exist and that leading a good life, an honest life of integrity is the right way to do things. I raised them to not lie. I raised them with integrity. And in one selfish act you have shaken, and perhaps shattered everything that I have taught my children, who now question some of life's most core and fundamental principles.

They grieve the things they lost. I grieve the childhood you stole from them.

But Mr. Thief, I have chosen to bear you no ill will. And I have chosen to teach my children the same thing. Rather, we have decided to bless you. I don't know why you chose to do this., I don't know why you chose to inflict this suffering on us. But I have my suspicions. I believe that it is because you wanted drug money.

But you see, that makes me ache for your pain. Why? Because I know that drugs is a numbing agent. And for you to need drugs to numb must mean you are destroyed by the pain you carry. It is this thought combined with the thought my the fear my children now live with that causes me to cry myself to sleep at night and wake up crying through the night.. And so, Mr. Thief, I hope for you, I pray for you. I hope that one day something stirs in your heart that allows to know in a deep and tangible way something of the intangible things you stole from my children. But most of all, Mr. Thief, I hope and pray for your redemption, your freedom and your happiness.

While I cry, Mr. Thief, may you be blessed.

Make Me A Channel of Your Peace

I remember being 11 years old. I was to do a profession of your faith. What that meant in the CRC was that I would stand before the congregation and defend my faith, as to why I was old enough, wise enough, mature enough to make this choice. I remember scouring the scriptures, desperate to find something that I could speak on, desperate for a word from God.

And I found it. It was one of two times in my life that I felt a portion of the Bible jump out at me (the other time when I was contemplating leaving my x). I thought I bookmarked it. But I didn't. I remember wanting to share it with my dad but I couldn't find it. So instead I shared this:

Make me a channel of your peace.
Where there is hatred let me bring your
love.
Where there is injury, your pardon, Lord
And where there's doubt, true faith in
you.

Chorus:
Oh, Master grant that I may never seek
So much to be consoled as to console
To be understood as to understand
To be loved as to love with all my soul.

Make me a channel of your peace
Where there's despair in life, let me bring
hope
Where there is darkness, only light
And where there's sadness, ever joy.

Chorus:

Make me a channel of your peace
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned
In giving to all men that we receive
And in dying that we're born to eternal
life.


Years later, the concept of life verses. I was desperate for one. Little did I realize. In fact I was haunted by the fact that I didn't have one. And a few short months ago, I realized. I don't have a life verse. I have a life prayer. And it is this prayer: The Prayer of St. Francis of Assissi. The very same one that I spoke on when I was 11. The very cry of a little girl's heart. That was, no that is, my life verse. 


Life has been a shitload of hell. I refuse to pull punches, to sugar coat it, or to stand on Christian Political Correctness. I will call it as I see it. And my life has been one of hell, where I have walked into hell and come out, where I have seen and witnessed things that you cannot conceive of in your worst nightmares or horror movies. 


I have often wondered why. Is this prayer the answer to my "why?" NO! But it does allow me to understand what God has done with my hell.


I have not yet graduated. And yet, I see clients. And those clients report back to my supervisors and sing my praises? Gloating? NO! But rather glorifying God. For you see, when I was a small child, I did not know what I was praying/singing when I sang those words at my profession of faith. But God did. And He used all my experiences whilst holding me tight when I gave up, in order to bring in freedom to souls imprisoned. He heard the prayer of a little 11 year old girl and redeemed her life, in order to bring freedom to those He loves and glory to Him.


Today I was reminded of my life verse/song/prayer in a very poignant way. Does it mean the hell that I consistently wake up to is easy? Do I accept it with grace? NO NO NO NO NO NO NO a thousand times NO! But what I do know is this: God will continue to redeem it and use it. My life has been smacked with much lately. So much so that I don't think I can hold on. And yet, in those moments, I am reminded of this song. And this song soothes my soul because above all, I want to bring freedom and restoration and hope. I want to be the voice to those whom have had their voice stolen. I want to restore innocence. I want to redeem. I want to see freedom. I want to see joy. Not just for myself. My heart breaks and is broken every day for those I meet who are imprisoned but desperately crying for someone to listen, someone to show them the freedom they deserve, someone to even believe they are worth being loved and free. 


I know Hell. I walked into it. By God's grace I walked out. And I promise you this: it is my life's goal/mission/destiny to walk back in and carry the lost, the young, the vulnerable, the innocent and the broken back out. No one soul is not worth my walk back into hell, for it means their freedom. 


 Listen

So I'm moving

So if you missed it somehow along the way, I am moving. At the end of October, I will be in the new house. It looks to be quite nice, still a nice big yard, 4 bedroom, two wood burning fireplaces (insert permagrin here) nice wrap around deck, 2.5 bathrooms. It should be good. And yet I go with mixed emotions. Which considering all the nonsense that I have lived through since moving here seems a bit strange. But if you bear with me you will see why.

When I moved here, it was under horrific circumstances I had been raped by my x in our marital home and additionally I had been raped at school. And this house ended up being the house to which I flew (in some hiding I might add). And I settled in. It was my first home post separation that I had with my kids. And we made it our home. It was the VERY first home I ever felt safe in in my entire existence. Even in my childhood homes I did not feel safe. But here I did. It was me and my kids. And it was safe. Sure there were things wrong, holes in the foundation from grow ops, rat carcasses petrified to the walls, remains of someone living in my shed, psyc notes from someone with mental illness, but it was still MY home. And it was SAFE.

Then 2011 happened. accusations of fraud and threats of police reports, a robbery, my son's assault, a sting operation next door followed by a seizure of a stolen car, followed by a death, followed by someone calling the cops on me, followed by someone following my daughter home. And so, now, it's no longer safe here. My safe refuge is now a threat. I wake up every hour through the night hearing noises and i remain awake and hypervigilant. I am constantly looking outside to see what is going to get us. I tense at every car that drives by. Now this house is not safe and so it is time to move.

But I still have a month. I hope its a busy month and goes extremely quickly so that I can breathe and relax and sleep through the night again. Until then, I sleep as best I can, i relax as best i can and try not to be too panicky, I sleep with a bat beside me, and I pack so that we can move and then maybe just maybe

We can feel safe again.

Change

Change is an interesting monster. It is often said that it is for our best and yet it is also often said that it is entirely uncomfortable. And yet, there it is....always there... inescapable.

This came to my attention this past week over facebook. Facebook has instituted another change which has resulted in a major uproar. There has been many a status of disgruntlement, many a way to revert back to the good but OLD facebook. And then I got to thinking, the OLD facebook, used to be the NEW facebook and it garnered as much opposition as this current change.

And I wondered. I wondered why a simple adjustment in facebook could cause such an uproarious outcry. Why does something so inconsequential result in such frustration? Is a simple change in fb that threatening? I mean, come on, it is ONLY facebook after all. Are our lives so centered around something so mundane that a minute change can disrupt our lives?

Then I thought some more. It isn't the fact that facebook changed that is the problem. It is change itself. It is unknown, we anticipate that it will be uncomfortable and therefore we fear it. We cannot prepare ourselves and therefore it poses as a threat. We do not know this stranger called change. We do not know its intentions. We do not know its motives. Therefore, we do not, we cannot trust it.

And yet I look over my life. It has been one source of change after another. One adjustment after another. Some changes were welcomed, some were forced upon me. And yet, they exist, they happen. And so I adapt. I really do not have another option.

And what have I learned? I have learned to roll with it. To go with it. And to do my best to work with it. I found that when I fight it, it makes it harder. Why? Well because it will still happen. So I can choose to fight it. I can choose to embrace it. Either way it will still happen. I can be left behind, or I can move with it.

It's never easy. But I can look back and say that all in all, I have learned many things through change. I have grown, in wisdom and in character. Was it always smooth? Was it always nice and gentle and full of rainbows and sunshine? Not on your life. But I think that much can be learned from change, it can be a good thing. Good or bad depends on our perspective. What we learn depends on our attitude going in. Change can be a friend or an enemy. Which is it for you?

SWAT teams, GTF and CSI

This is a bit of an extension on the story of being refused rent based on having children. Somewhat but not directly related. In my only half coherent state, I have posted a few random statuses today. So time for the explanation.

Last night, after work, I had some errands to do. Including picking up Ron. I worked late, he worked late. So everything ran late. I ordered and got delivered pizza to the kids for dinner. And at 9:00 pm all hell broke loose. I received a phone call on my cell from the kids but didn't hear it. By the time I noticed it was quite late and I phoned them back right away. At that point, Jeff tells me that there were gunshots next door. Needless to say I was panic stricken. I left Ron and raced home. At this point, I believe the kids have been in the house by themselves for around 45 minutes. When I got to the house, this is what I saw. About 30 police, 5 dogs, the SWAT team and the Gang task force. I was not allowed anywhere near the house and I couldn't call the house as my phone was dead (mental note: get a car charger). One of the police let me use his phone and I talked to the kids for about45 minutes. Finally, things were cleared enough that they let me in.

What happened when I was gone was this: cops surrounded both my house and my neighbours (one piece of property, two houses). They had a wall of police lined in the street in front of the house. Cops were stationed at every corner of my house and the neighbors house. They tore the fence panels out of the back and trained guns on the house through the back alley. They had guns trained on the front door at every angle. It was at this point, that they, one at a time ordered my new neighbours out of the house, one step at a time. Walked them around to the side of my house where they dropped, cuffed and arrested them. By dropped I do not mean that they punched them out, I simply mean that they were ordered to get face down into the ground.

It was not until after midnight that the majority of police officers left. However, two were stationed at the house. One in front, and one in the back alley.

Needless to say, we didn't sleep. Today the kids stayed home. And today, more story unfolded. Around 11:00 am, four more vehicles showed up with a search warrant and they proceeded to dismantle the entire house. This morning CSI was happening before my eyes. Fingerprints were being dusted for, furniture and assorted household items were being dismantled, bagged and removed from the house.

And we sat in the house, exhausted, overtired and dealing with PTSD effects.

Between bits and pieces this is what I know: the house had been watched for a long long time. There was gang affiliation as the gang task force was on site. I overheard the police discussing kidnapping and there were drugs involved as well.

So today we sit. Tired, in shock, stunned and overwhelmed. Knowing i have to move. I knew that before this all went down. And still unable to find a residence.

How does this tie in with the BC Rights Tribunal? Well, that house was available for end of August. Had I not been denied that house based on having children, we would not have been here. My children and I would have been spared the trauma of last night and today. Will this impact my Tribunal complaint and case? That I don't know. But trust me, this IS something that I will be bringing forward to both CBC again and the BC human rights tribunal. Will there be any recompense? I'm not sure, but I am willing to try.

And so we still keep looking, hoping and praying for a new house.

August

We just past August. And it was my daughter's brithday. Now as far as we can figure, my daughter was a twin. But I have only one. I look at her and wonder. And I think she knows. And so in honor of my forever baby I repost this:

I Wonder What You Look Like

I wonder what you look like

And who you’re meant to be

Would you look like Daddy

Or would you favour me

I ache to hold you in my arms

And kiss away your tears

Stroke your chubby baby cheeks

And see the dimples that appear

I long to gaze into your eyes

Are they green or brown or blue

Is that a twinkle I would see

Of mischief through and through

In comfort do I long

To stroke your tiny head

To feel your soft fine baby hair

Is it blonde or brown or red

Although the chance has come and gone

To see your life mature

I know we’ll meet in heaven

Of this I am secure

Until that awestruck day arrives

I’ll hold you in my heart

And anxiously away the time

That we’ll no longer be apart