The Lord of the Rings

One of my best friends in this life is one I haven't seen in nearly 6 years and don't talk to very often.



April is blessed to live in one of God's most beautiful Mountain creations, Canmore, Alberta. Of the many many things I remember about her, one is the beautiful necklace she always wore. I believe it was called the "mother and child". Very simple, almost abstract, yet elegant in design, it was a golden circle, with two dots of gold attached to the top, one larger than the other. As you gaze upon it, you begin to see the dots take the form of heads, the larger on the mother, the smaller one, the child. The circle becomes arms entwined, perhaps bodies standing tall beside each other. However you perceive it the symbolism is clear, this is a mother and child, each a part of the other, a circle with no beginning and no end.



The child is physically born of the mother, yet is the mother not also born of the child? I am not the same person I was before becoming mother to each of my 4 children. As I birthed each of them, they in turn each birthed a part of me. As I raise and nurture my children, I myself am being raised and nurtured in ways I didn't know and expect would happen. Oh the marvels of motherhood!



One day while doing some shopping at the Cookstown Outlet Mall in the months before Christmas, I stopped in at one of my favourite places to window shop...the Jewellery Store. All the things that sparkle and shine...oh my goodness! There in the display case I saw the Mother and Child necklace that reminded me of my dear friend April. What a rush of memories that brought to mind. Thanksgiving dinners, backyard BBQs, stamping and scrapbooking together...oh how I missed April when I looked at that necklace! Then I saw the same emblem on a ring, and I knew I would love to have it. I asked to try it on, and of course it was a perfect fit. I checked the price, and of course it was the perfect price...50% off. Sounds like providence to me LOL. So I took my two teenagers in to show them what and where it was and told them I would very much like it for Christmas. I also told Dennis that I would very much like it for Christmas. To make a long story short, I didn't get it.



Early this month, while shopping with a friend at the same mall, we stopped to admire the sparkling creations in the jewellery case. Lo and behold, the ring was still there, and still on sale. It only took me a moment to reach the decision, yes! I would buy it for myself! Why did this symbol of motherhood have to be a gift from my husband or my children? Why couldn't it be a gift to myself? I could hardly wait to get home and show off my new treasure.


I wear my new ring every day, on the third finger of my right hand. It is one of three rings I wear always. The other two are my wedding set on the same finger of my left hand. I am captivated as I sit here, at my dining room table and write this entry on my laptop, watching my fingers fly across the keyboard. My hands, left and right, are mirror images of each other, with their third fingers adorned with gold. I ponder the meaning of these trinkets...is that all they are? Goodness no.



The rings on my left hand symbolizes marriage. Vows taken before family, friends and God. A relationship to nurture, dreams to attain, a life to live, a husband to love. The ring on my right hand symbolizes motherhood. Relationships to nurture, dreams to attain, lives to live, children to love. It amazes me that both sets of rings represent the same things in different roles. And when I think about it I realize that I can't fulfill either of these roles properly without God's guidance or blessing in my life.



Maybe it's not a Mother and Child ring after all. Maybe it's a Father and Child ring. Now, as I have taken my ring off my finger and placed it at the top of the keyboard in front of me, and I look at it as I type, I am seeing something different in it. I am seeing my Heavenly Father, reaching our across a large open space to me, His child. I am seeing how His arms reach forward to grasp me, how His head tips down to touch mine, perhaps to place a kiss on my forehead. I see how His shape reaches all the way around the ring, to gird me from behind, as if to say "Don't worry, I've got your back."

The other thing that has been floating through my mind tonight is one of the first worship songs I ever heard and learned...in a small Canmore church where April was the worship leader.

Refiner's Fire (Purify My Heart)
Brian Doerksen

Purify my heart
Let me be as gold
And precious silver
Purify my heart
Let me be as gold
Pure gold
Refiner's fire
My heart's one desire
Is to be holy
Set apart for You,
LordI choose to be holy
Set apart for You, my Master
Ready to do Your will
Purify my heart
Cleanse me from within
And make me holy
Purify my heart
Cleanse me from my sin
Deep within

© 1990 Mercy/Vineyard Publishing

Facebook and Friends

Logging on to my computer's homepage one day a news headline caught my eye. "Facebook Friendships Flakey" or something just as silly was the eye-catching title.

The article bashed Facebook 'friendships' as shallow, meaningless and lifeless, saying that for the average user with 150 to 200 people on their friends list, a "true relationship worthy of the term friendship" is in reality limited to a half-dozen or so.



Although I agreed I wouldn't be inviting everyone on my friends list to my childrens' weddings, or even a summer BBQ, I took great exception to the ideas that my so-called friendships were shallow, meaningless and lifeless. Some of those on my list are there simply because we shared a summer at camp back in the 80's, or a class in highschool, or some other seemingly trivial experience. Whatever the connection, a connection it is. And while we may not want to have regular dinner dates to keep abreast of each other's lives, facebook allows us to keep in touch and updated without being overly involved. Ok, maybe that is shallow and meaningless. But it answers the centuries old questions of "I wonder whatever happened to..."



But there is a whole other side to Facebook that I felt the author was missing. I have reconnected with old friends that I haven't seen in donkey's years. And it's a neutral zone too. One friendship that was revived was one that was left on less than ideal terms. Given the 3 provinces between us, popping in to say hi wasn't an option, and had either one of us chosen that route, I don't know how well it would have been received. Facebook offered a great opportunity. A message could be typed, thought over, read and re-read, edited, mulled over, and slept on before finally being sent. If only we put half that much thought into something before saying it! Then the reader has all the time they nead to read the message, re-read, digest it, experience whatever emotion comes with it and so on...all without immediately reacting to the other person! They can take all the time they need to craft an appropriate response, and so on down the line. Granted this is not how things always go, we are human, and generally hot-headed. I am blessed in that this is how it was handled between my friend and I.



It was not even a year ago that this friendship was rekindled. We have talked on the phone a couple of times (for hours each time) and emailed several times. We leave messages on each others' Facebooks every now and then. Is this friendship shallow and meaningless? Goodness no. Do friends have to get together every Tuesday to sip Cappucinos and spend an hour on the phone every day to make it count? I hope not, because if they do, I haven't got a friend in the world.



As for Facebook, some people hate it. Some people love it. It's a social netwooking tool. A computer program. A royal waste of time. I love it. I keep in touch with my friends through Facebook, both the strap-on-your-armour-I'll-fight-your-demons-with-you friends and the hey-how's-it-going friends. I track my diet progress with one of their extra applications (mydiet for those of you interested, it's free and it rocks). I chat about my favourite TV show Coronation Street in one of the many groups there (Canadian Coronation Street Fans), and I get some great support from a Bipolar Disorder support group there too.

Whatever your definition of friendship, the bottom line is, we all need friends. Whether it's that Tuesday Cappucino, a long chat on the phone, or a quick note on your facebook wall, we all need to have friends, be friends, and keep those communication lines open, whatever they may be.

What's in a Name?

The pursuit of Peace. It's the name of my blog. Catchy, isn't it?

But what's the point? I mean seriously, what is the meaning behind the name? Several of my friends have blogs, and they all have rather catchy names. Besides being clever, they have meaning. My friend Susan's blog Bake me a Cake is in reference to her incredible talent for baking (or should I say sculpting?) the most amazing 3D cakes, as well as the nursery rhyme pat-a-cake...she has 3 small children at home. My long time internet friend Nic Howard named her blog The Life of a Scrap at Home Mum. And it's just that, a window into the life of an amazing and busy New Zealand mum who has become internationally renowned for her scrapbooking, most of which she does from home.



So what exactly do I mean by the Pursuit of Peace?



When I was 'building' this blog, it was very late at night. Or early in the morning. Depends on your perspective. I think the term "wee hours" is appropraite here. I asked myself what I wanted from this blog. Why even start one? Friends had been bloggin for years, I had considered it many times. A great way to stay in touch, to get my thoughts out, to avoid housework. Nah, I wasn't the blogging type. Blogs are just journals or diaries that you hope people will read. Kind of backwards. Besides, I'm great at starting things, not so hot at following through. Do I really need the world knowing that? I decided that I would give it a go. I have alot on my mind, alot going on in my life, and often I have no outlets for it. So even if it's just firing it off into cybersace, it could be kind of therapeutic. We'll give it a whirl. Besides, it's not like the blog-police are going to come knocking down my door if I stop writing...are they?



Back to the name. Apparently every blog needs one. And I can't quite put my finger on it, but I just didn't think "Tracy's Blog" was suitable. In hindsight I could have gone for the humourous, like "Blah Blah Blog", but although my writings, rumblings and rantings do tend to be a bit on the sarcastic and/or funny side, that's not what I was looking for. So what was I looking for? What did I want out of a blog name? What's in a name anyways? Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.



Some days this will be a weight loss blog, as I share about my struggles, successes, and thoughts on the road to losing 100 pounds. In the process of losing weight I am seeking (and finding!) self esteem, better health, and ultimately I am In Pursuit of Peace with my body.



Some days this will be a Christian blog, as I share about my struggles, successes and thoughts on my walk with the Lord. As I seek to know more of God and accept His will in my life, I am In Pursuit of Peace.



Some days this will be a Bipolar blog as I share about my struggles, successes and thoughts on the battle of living with Bipolar Disorder. This battle is both and internal and an external, and in that battle, I am daily In Pursuit of Peace.



Some days this will be a blah-blah-blog about everything and nothing. The ups and downs of motherhood, life and love and everything else. Even on those days I am In Pursuit of Peace.



The Pursuit of Peace. That's it. That's me. That's where I'm at. I'm in Pursuit of Peace.

The Official Fifty Pound Mark

I'm at an exciting place in my weight loss journey, a place like no other. It's a place where milestones are plentiful, and the air is thick with success.

I began my journey at 260 pounds, and my goal weight is 160, or a loss of 100 pounds. This morning wehn I weighed myself the scales sang out two-ten! I have lost fifty pounds! I am halfway there! Woohoo! Can you feel the excitement in the air?

There are so many other milestones and achievements that hover around this 20 pound zone for me. It seems like as soon as I reach a new one, there's another one right around the corner! What a big incentive to keep going! Please allow me the indulgence of sharing...

#1) 212 lbs...my last known weight, albeit my heaviest, post-Nathan/pre-Paula
#2) 210 lbs...the official fifty pounds lost/halfway mark
#3) 209 lbs...this will put me in the single digits. It's silly, but it's a milestone :)
#4) 199 lbs...under 200 pounds...need I say more?
#5) 192 lbs...my official pre-Paula weight

I am looking forward to reaching each of these five milestones, and moving past them to the next stages of my journey.

My Weight Loss Journey..the prologue

I've been battling my weight since I had my first child. I gained 60 pounds during my first pregnancy, and had a 7 lb 11 oz baby. You don't have to be a genius to know that math doesn't add up. My mum and I joined weight watchers and I lost 30 pounds, and by the time Ashlyn was 18 months old I looked and felt great. By the time she was 2 old I was pregnant with Alex, and so the cycle began again. We knew our family wasn't complete, and I didn't feel like struggling to lose weight only to gain it again with the next baby so I just dealt with the weight. If I had known our boys were going to be 6 years apart, I may have re-thought that idea.

I am not an amazon, but I'm no shorty either, I stand 5 foot 8 inches tall. My weight sat between 180 and 190 in the 6 years between the boys, I wore a size 16 or 18, depending on the cut. I had always been told that I wore my weight well, which I suppose was a good thing. Dennis and I once joked that I carried it all 'between my knockers and my knees' as that is literaly where my weight sits. From the lower ribcage to the upper thighs...this baby's got back.

My pre-pregnancy weight with both Nathan and Paula was 192, however I managed to put on 20 pounds in the months AFTER I had Nathan, bringing my weight to a lifetime high of 212 lbs at Christmas 2000. I got a 3 month membership to a local gym for Christmas, and went every morning before work (as a schoolbus driver who started at 7 am no less) to spend 3o minutes on the treadmill. By the end of March I had lost 20 pounds. By the end of July I was pregnant with Paula.

Soon after having Paula, I only stepped on a scale once, which was within the first few days. That weight was 204. Life got a bit hairy after that, as we were trying to sell our house, I had a terrible bout of Post-Natal Depression, and Paula had chronic ear and throat infections every four weeks beginning at three weeks of age. We sold our home in Alberta and moved to Ontario, with an 17 day closing...11 days of which I was away on hoildays with Paula. Basically we signed the deal on Thursday, I flew out on Friday, flew back home the following Monday, started packing, had the movers show up a day early on Wednesday, had a garage sale on Saturday with whatever didn't get packed, and pulled out of Canmore on Sunday. So I think it's safe to say that there was some stress involved. Once we got to Ontario, we moved in with my parents. Within a month, Dennis was hired at Honda and took a room in Loretto through the week, so it was just the kids and I with my parents...it went quite smoothly, but I know it wasn't ideal. I definitely gained a few pounds while we lived there. Mum's a good cook and so am I, and dessert every night is just not figure friendly!

My bipolar diagnosis was a relief on so many levels, finally having a reason and an answer for 20 years worth of issues and questions...whew! Little did I know that the fun was just about to begin! One of the most common side effects of so many medications prescribed for Bipolar disorder is weight gain. I gained over 30 pounds in a couple of months!

My weight peaked in the summer of 2006 at 260 pounds. I was wearing a size 24 or 26. It was a real low point for me, on so many levels. I remember finding a set of club chairs I really liked, and was considering buying for my living room. I was looking for cleaning instructions on the tag when I saw that there was a 250 lb weight limit on it. I realized that I was too heavy for a standard piece of furniture! I couldn't sit in those basic white resin patio chairs, my hips were too wide. I realized that when we went to my parents' cottage I couldn't sit in the armchair at the table, the arms cut into my hips and it was quite painful. I had actually reached the point where I was too big for standard sized furniture and fittings. This was a shattering realization. It was time to do something about it.

I began my weight loss journey in July of '06. Breakfast has never been a part of my day, so I started there. I had a meal replacement shake mix in the cupboard, so I just used that as a breakfast...it had to be better than not eating brekkie at all. I changed the way I prepeared and ate food, and joined a gym. I went to various aerobic classes two or three times a week, and succeeded in losing 35 pounds by November 2006. Unfortunately, things came to a standstill at that point, and the scale stopped moving at 225 lbs. Within a month, I had gained 5 pounds back and weighed 23o. Over the course of 2007 I fluctuated between 227 and 233, getting frustrated with myself for not being in control and getting back on the weight loss wagon.

New Years is a time when people make resolutions...and fail. I don't believe in New Years' Resolutions, because it's just setting yourself up for failure. I simply chose to renew my commitment to myself, and it just happend to be near the beginning of January. But it was NOT a New Years Resolution.

So grab a water bottle and join me on my journey. I've had a head start, so get a wiggle on!

I joined a local writer's group last month, and each month we are encouraged to write on a particular topic. This month was "Conflict". A million thoughts races through my head regarding what to write, conflict is such a broad topic. Most recently though, my conflict has been internal.



Mental Health issues are difficult to live with, as the sufferer generally tends to fear misunderstanding from the community at large. I myself struggle with this, especially as a Christian. I find it very difficult to 'balance' being a Christian with having Bipolar Disorder, this is not a combination that many people will readily accept. Somehow a mental illness is not inline with walking in faith, I must be doing something worng. I must not be praying enough, must not be in the word, must not be right with the Lord...because of course if I was doing all these things I would be fine and Jim-Dandy just like everyone else, right? It's so hard for me when I hear these things, or feel these kind of attitudes. I have an illness. If I had diabetes, cancer, heart disease or fibromyalgia, and didn't have the strength to get out of bed for a few weeks, people would be asking if they could pray for me, not why I hadn't been praying.


I remember very clearly, a couple of months ago, we went to church, and we were a few minutes late. When we arrived, the worship service had already begun, so we found our places and joined in the singing. I looked around and watched people with their hands raised, smiles on their lips, joy in their faces as they sang "He has made me glad, He has made me glad, I will rejoice for He has made me glad" I wanted to sing so badly, but I couldn't. I sat down with a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes, and I whispered to God "I can't sing this song Lord, I won't stand in your house and sing lies. I'm not glad and I'm not going to lie about it. But one day Lord, I'm going to sing this song. I'm going to sing it loud and clear, because I know that day is coming, but it is not today"
There was such freedom in that moment. I had to leave because I was so overcome with emotion, but I felt so free in that moment of truth and acknowledgment.



This is the piece I wrote for February's Writer's Group on Conflict. It is representative of my internal battle with Bipolar, the light and darkness representing both hypomanic and depressive episodes and the spiritual elements at war within.



The battle rages on. Light against darkness, clashing like warriors in the fields. The darkness is heavy, oppressive. It smothers the light, tries to choke the life from it. The light dims, flickers...has darkness won? Has the light been snuffed? Has the very breath of life been stolen from the light, never to shine again?The darkness lies heavy, still and unmoving. It's weight is powerful, painful, crushing. Occasionally the darkness pulsates, but it is not a heartbeat, no. For the darkness does not have a heart. Tendrils develop and become entwined and entangled, pulling, tearing, pinching, scratching. The darkness is ever-moving, ever changing, ever torturing.But wait, what is that? A flicker of light? Was it not extinguished? Did the darkness not triumph? No, the light was merely weak, immobilized. The light is slowly gaining strength, burning brighter and stronger every moment.The tendrils of darkness begin to lose their grip. They become disentangled. As the light reaches them, they grow weak and fall away. The blanket of darkness loses density as the light reveals it. It melts in the warmth of the light, the throbbing drumbeat of darkness is overcome by the gentle lapping of waves. At last! The darkness has been banished! Gone forever, never to return. Alas, not so, my friend, not so. Like the light's hiatus, the darkness too has only temporarily stepped away from this conflict. But today, we shall bask in the warmth and the glow of the light, and pray it stays another day.