A Journey

We are not called to save the world, solve all problems, and help all people. But we each have our own unique call in our families, in our work, in our world. We have to keep asking God to help us see clearly what our call is and to give us the strength to live out that call with trust. Then we will discover that our faithfulness to a small task is the most healing response to the illnesses of our time. (Henri Nouwen) Six months ago, Lloyd and I said yes to something we didn’t really want to do,

    “Oh, to live like a river flows, carried by the surprise of its own unfolding.” (John O’Donohue) We never suspected that Lloyd would be working fulltime for the next six months as interim Chief Administrative Officer for a bi-national organization with offices located in Grand Rapids, Michigan and Southern Ontario. We had no clue. He was not looking for or wanting another job. But the invitation came his way, and together, we said yes. So here we are, surprised and abit shell-shocked, looking this organization in the face. Our lives have been turned upside down as we gradually

Today we celebrate forty-four years of marriage. Forty-four years of traveling this life together as best friends, lovers and co-workers trying to make a positive difference in this world. We were so young on that 1977 August day! We were so confident that we could change the world for the better. This desire to make a difference fueled many of the choices we made and served us well. But it was also naive. We didn’t know then, that being a difference might be just as important or perhaps even more important than trying to make a difference. This shift in

The tree planting tradition we launched in May 2019 is now complete. Complete in the sense that a tree for each of our fifteen grandchildren has been chosen, purchased and planted in the soil at nadamore. When this tradition was first conceived, we had no idea which trees would be joining us or where exactly they would be planted. Now, as we look around the nadamore landscape we are surprised by the wide variety of newly planted trees. It feels good to be surrounded by their trunks, branches and leaves, all visible reminders of the grandchildren they represent. We are now

“Hiking-I don’t like either the word or the thing. People ought to saunter in the mountains-not hike! Do you know the origin of that word, “saunter?” It’s a beautiful word. Away back in the Middle Ages people used to go on pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and when people in the villages through which they passed asked where they were going, they would reply, “A la saints terre,” ‘To the Holy Land.’ And so they became known as “Sainte-terre-ers or saunterers. Now these mountains are our Holy Land, and we ought to saunter through them reverently, not “hike” through them.”

The two barred owls swooped silently into nadamore this past Sunday evening at dusk. The only marker of their arrival was graceful movement of widespread wings as they landed onto nearby tree branches. One of them landed less than ten feet from the deck where I was sitting, and stared straight at me as the other observed from slightly further away. Their presence was powerful. I was aware there were owls in the area because Lloyd and I had often heard them hooting from a distance through the woods. But never before had they chosen to land so close to our

I do believe something very magical can happen when you read a good book.” (JK Rowling) The idea of creating a bookclub for our grandchildren was sparked sixteen years ago by a specific conversation with The Barnes and Noble Lady in Des Moines IA. I never learned her name, nor she mine, but we knew each other well. She worked at the information desk of the University Ave location, and frequently helped me solve my never ending searches for specific books. As a retired elementary school teacher, she was particularly well-versed in children’s literature. One day, as she and I hunted

“It’s finished, Dad.” The words came as I leaned over the still warm body of my Dad at Chilliwack BC Hospital. He had taken his last breath in room 470 only moments ago. Privately, as I imagine he would have wanted. The nurse had called at 6AM to tell us he was gone. Vicki and I were already awake at brother Mike’s house, only a few miles from the hospital. We had returned there to sleep after spending the two previous days at Dad’s bedside. He was non-responsive during this time, but we talked to him as if he could

Some invitations are easily discovered and completely irresistible, like the concrete invitation we received during the 2018 annual Vanderkwaak Family Gathering.  Acting upon this invitation was a spontaneous last-minute decision that resulted in a great deal of fun and a permanent record for posterity: well-formed handprints on the floor of our soon-to-be screened-in porch for each of our adult children, grandchildren and for ourselves as well. The individuals who left their mark on August 3, 2018 will be forever present at our new home. Given the geographically dispersed nature of our family and the limited times we can be present