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Financial Clean Up

June 29, 2018 6,867 Comments
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Living With Less is actually more like Learning to Live Within.

The story of our financial journey is akin to different kinds of changes. Sometimes things happen quickly and in a moment everything changes. And sometimes things just change a little, slowly over time. The next thing you know you are asking yourself “How the hell did we get HERE?”.

This is the beginning of our financial clean up story.

Like all families there are typical things we spend money on. Food, housing, clothing, utilities, the norm. Then there are the things that come along that are less expected or down right unexpected. Kids summer camps that need to be paid for in February that are $600, the furnace the needs repair that is $800, braces, birthdays, concerts, back to school clothes and supplies and devices and and and…

Not to mention the winter that is just too bloody long and too bloody cold and if you don’t get out of here STAT you may just end up needing to spend more on psychologist fees than a quick trip to Mexico would cost. So off you go!

Our intentions were nearly always good. Most often we’d finance an expense for something in the future – acknowledging that we’d pay it off over time. This is one way we justified to ourselves that it’s OK to live beyond our means. Sometimes we simply wanted to take advantage of opportunities that came up, that we might not get again, like celebrating our children’s milestone birthdays in very memorable ways. We leveraged our future financial position for the here and now moment. I don’t even regret all those choices if I’m being honest. (I will write more on this topic later) Alexa will never forget her 10th birthday – ever, and neither will I.

There is truth to the rumor that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. It became easy to slip into the habit of just pulling a little here and there from our line of credit to wipe clean a credit card at the end of the month, take a quick trip to the mountains etc. No one should pay 19% interest right? It also became easier to justify it to ourselves each time we took this action.

A secondary, but troubling reality emerged; the larger the line of credit balance, the easier it was to pull more money from it. What’s the difference between a balance of $23,000 and $24,500? Nothing. Or so it began to feel.

We were not behind on any of our bills, and we made a rather large payment to the line of credit balance each month and life went along beautifully. Money matters were not something we fought about and usually we were on the same page. Neither of us enjoyed taking money from the line of credit, but it was a means to an end. The life we wanted, and the stuff associated with it, was always attainable.

Toward the end of 2017, with the new year approaching, Jeff and I began discussing our hopes for 2018 for our marriage and for our family. We also began to dream about what we would do with extra money. It is so fun dreaming together, and something we do often. It was during that conversation we realized if we paid off our line of credit, we could start doing the things we were dreaming about!

Armed with a dream in our heart of more financial flexibility, and extra vacations on our mind, we decided 2018 was going to be the year we stopped borrowing from the line of credit (save emergencies) and the year we took that sucker down!

We wanted to live life from a place of being ahead, instead of behind.

Together we decided to become diligent in our pursuit of a $0.00 line of credit balance, while finding our own financial happiness in the process. It is more than dollars and cents; it is a lifestyle balancing act, it is a mental balancing act, it is a discipline balancing act. And it has proven to already be very rewarding, just a few months in!

Find out what we have been doing and how it has been working for us by subscribing at the bottom of this page to my BLOG alerts & following us @ :

INSTAGRAM: (@Love_Layna_)

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FACEBOOK: (https://www.facebook.com/lovelaynablog/) for videos, pictures, etc.

Xoxo

Layna

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Written by: Layna
Blog MY MUSINGS Uncategorized

Filling in the Gaps – Father’s Day Feelings

June 16, 2018 5,120 Comments
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Father’s Day brings pain-filled emotions to the surface for me. I was born by one dad and raised by another. Although I was given two fathers, I never got to experience the love of a daddy. Through time and circumstances, the end result is that have no real relationship with either, and I wished I had a relationship with both. I had a grandfather who filled this role for me and loved me like I was his very own. I treasured him every moment of his life, but he is gone to heaven now and all I have left are the memories. Father’s Day is a tangible reminder of what I am missing and it leaves a gaping hole in my heart.

For many years I allowed myself be dragged under by the current of emotions on Father’s Day which had the ability to suck me to the depths. I decided this was not the way I wanted to live.

Life often doesn’t go the way in which we hoped, or dreamed or even planned.

It has been a process of mourning, accepting and moving on to gratitude. From this heart posture and vantage point I can see all the places God has worked to stitch together my hurting heart and the people he has lovingly given me to fill in the gaps.

His name is Jeff.

Once upon a time we met when we were but children ourselves and together determined that we wanted to do better, and be more. We linked arms and sealed it with rings and a kiss and set out naively on this journey of marriage and parenthood. Naivety is a gift. I think if anyone were to know the truth about parenting and how hard it is, there would be no human race!

Jeff cares. This sounds so basic but let me assure you it is far from simple. On a day to day basis Jeff places being a great husband and father at the top of his to do list. He comes home from work, (often after commuting 3 hours on top of his work day) and kids and I get a kiss before he has put his bag down, changed his clothes or even taken off his shoes. He helps with things that need to be done; never complaining, always an active participant. He wants to know how our day has been and what’s taken place in the world around us. He cares about how we are feeling about it. He’s given us all a deep love for hip hop music, most of us a love for basketball, and more than all of that, he has created the foundation for all members of our family to love and to be loved. He plays monopoly when he would rather be relaxing, he coaches team sports, he reads stories, he has pillow fights – he values quality time and he makes it happen. Because he cares.

He loves being married to me. I never question this for a moment. He listens to me, challenges me, he fights fairly, he kisses me, tells me I beautiful, he encourages me and pushes me to be the best woman I can be. Jeff believes in me, often more than I believe in myself. He dates me, sends me off on girl’s night out and even faithfully endures The Bachelor. He buys me flowers from Costco every week, because he knows I love them and because he is aware that our children are watching and learning. This is another way he demonstrates his intentionality in nurturing me as his wife.

Jeff has taught me what love is.

 

 

He has shown me what a daddy looks like and he has set the bar very high for what a spouse and father should be, for our children. To me he is the finest man walking the planet.

His name is Bert.

Once upon a time I met a homeless man that stole my heart. He had no one, and so I quickly became his someone. Having a relationship with a man who battles mental health issues, addictions, and homelessness, has been full of highs and lows. It is often exciting, sometimes heart breaking, and always loving. I believe this is the closest thing I have felt to the love of my grandfather since his passing. Bert has taken me to levels of sadness I never experienced with my Grandpa, but my Grandpa was well and Bert is not. But the heart of how these men loved me – that root is the same. The root love that is beyond proud of me, would do anything for me, adores my children and loves without condition – my heart recognizes that as the same.

His name is Jim.

Once upon a time a man scared me half to death when I walking to get the mail! He apologized for startling me and introduced himself as James Brown. Immediately, “I Feel Good” started playing in my mind and I commented on his famous his name. This lead to a great conversation about his name, his career, and how he has stepped away from his law firm to take care of his precious wife Jeanie who was battling ALS. As we parted ways I heard the words “I don’t know if you believe in prayer, but I do, and I will pray for Jeanine” come out of my mouth. It was a weird moment for me and I figured this man I just met thought I was crazy, but something compelled me to say it.

I’ve honed my online sleuthing skills and it wasn’t long before I found James’ email address. I wrote to him letting him know what a pleasure it was to meet him and to see how Jeanie was. It was through email exchanges that we both came to realize how God had perfectly orchestrated our meeting. We were bound to meet as our lives intersected at numerous points and in fascinating ways. Turns out he didn’t think I was crazy after all.

James is now “Jim” as his friends call him. I feel fortunate to get to be included in this category. It is a pleasure getting to know this kind, wise man who is so clearly loved by all. Jim’s house is as lavish, as it is filled with warmth. The tea is always on, great conversation abounds, friends and family come and go ceaselessly and there is always a place for you. And me.

As Bert has become more unstable, and isn’t able to be much of a presence in my life, I can see how God has brought me Jim. He is inspiring, he is kind, he is hospitable, he is brilliant and considerate. I have learned so much from Jim, just by watching. His faith is strong and he is an avid studier of the Bible and his perspectives are so interesting. He is teaching me things my Grandfather would have taught me. He has a spot at his table for me, just as my Grandfather had for me; when I have all the answers or when I have none. Jim Brown is a man of the same caliber as my Grandpa and I see reflections of the man I treasured, in him. I see God in him. I see God’s love in him. I see God’s love for me in him.

As I have actively sought after God’s heart for me, I have been able to see him as a perfect father. It has been a process and a journey, one that I am still on, and one that I have found to be the biggest game changer of all. To know love is the greatest human aspiration in my opinion. We are wired for it. I also believe we often have to give it before we can learn to see it, know it, experience it, and accept it.

Self examination told me I didn’t want to be tossed around by life’s circumstances and necessitated I did something different. I started to give love. I wanted to feel love. It may not have come from the places my heart was desiring, but that in no way diminishes the love I have found. When God feels far, I have to look no further than the people who surround me with love, that he has given to me.

On Father’s Day this year, I will celebrate fully the man who is the best father on earth. I will celebrate my perfect father above, and I will do my best to bless them both. Jeff’s gifts have been purchased and are waiting to be unwrapped (or uncorked!) on Sunday. And the gift I am giving to my heavenly father is the gift of blessing someone else. My charity Experience Kaleo, will be blessing a single mom with a $100 to spoil herself with. When I was a young single mother myself, my mother did this for me, and I know how touching it is to be seen and honored for doing the job of two, as one.

If you have a hurting like like mine, I encourage you to look for your gap fillers, and to honour the one who gave them to you, by blessing them or someone else. You will be glad you did. Happy Father’s Day from my stitched up-grateful heart to yours.

Xoxo

Layna

A FEW PICS OF MY FAVOURITE FATHER MAN: 😉

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Written by: Layna
Blog MY MUSINGS Uncategorized

Treasure Hunting

June 2, 2018 3,707 Comments
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X marks the spot. Who doesn’t love a good treasure hunt? I remember the treasure hunts my mom my used to create for us as children. There were the “dig for a half hour until you unearth the treasure” kind. We patiently followed the clues all around the farm, getting more excited with each one. We knew we were approaching the goal with every successful clue. There was nothing more exciting than finding out what was buried. It was surely going to be really good, if we had to work that hard to get it. And we were right. The spoils were definitely worth the effort.

How did we know it would be worth the effort? Because we knew the heart of the woman who had lovingly created the treasure hunt. We knew of her sense of wonder and adventure. We knew she had gone to a lot of effort to spoil us, even if she wasn’t worried about making us work a little to get it. She knew what lay beneath the dirt, and knew we would forget about the callouses on our hands and the arguments that would inevitably erupt as we worked collectively to figure out a tricky clue. In essence, we knew her deep love for us.

I have come to find pure delight in hunting out, and searching for signs and wonders from above, in my adult life. I have come to learn that, just like my mom used to make for us as children, God is always creating a treasure hunt, even if we have to work to find the treasure.

About two years ago I began to notice dimes everywhere. It was happening so often I decided it could not simply be ‘a coincidence’ so I began to collect them and tuck them away in a drawer. I was unsure exactly why I was finding these dimes, but I decided to take joy in finding them. It was amazing how many more dimes I found when I treated their turning up as fortuitous, instead of coincidental.

I became curious. I became watchful. I carried a sense of anticipation.

I began paying more careful attention to the times and places the dimes make their appearance. It seems they most often turn up when I am really wrestling with something. When I’m unsure if I am heading in the right direction, when I am questioning my life in big and small ways. I have found they turn up when I am feeling hesitant, when there are two paths before me that require me to make a choice, or when I am just not quite my perky self. I have noticed how the finding of a simple dime, not worth much, can make me feel so worthy. How it can instantly fill me with excitement and expectation, or just warm my heart and make me feel so very loved.

Two days ago I was doing my children’s laundry and a lovely little dime fell out. The next day I found a dime on the floor in the back of my van. I try and go for an early morning walk each morning and today I was cold, it was gloomy and rainy and going for my walk was not something I wanted to do. I went anyway knowing that I am at my best when I do. Just when I thought I should turn around and abandon the walk, I look down and in the dirt and in the crevasse of the sidewalk is a dime…

I marvel at the Lord, so full of care and concern that He would take such time and consideration to orchestrate these things for me. I am not rich, nor famous, I am simply a wife and a mother who wakes up every morning determined to do and be her best. I am not extraordinary in this. The world is full of such people. Finding a dime makes me feel so much, that it causes me to want to do the simple things for people that cross my path, because I recognize on a deep and personal level, how much a tiny act can mean. The idea that I can be the small gesture that causes excitement, expectation or warms a heart causes me to want to do small things.

I wonder how many times I have done or said something to someone, that was a ‘dime’ along life’s treasure hunt for them? Being awakened to this possibility has caused me speak the beauty that comes into my mind and release it fully into the world so that it may accomplish what it was intended to do. Because it may just be the thing that changes someones day. It may be the nudge someone has been waiting for. It may be a sign from above. I have learned to send a text when someone repeatedly keeps coming to my mind, I have learned to never walk away from a lady who has caused me to think “wow that is a nice outfit” without telling her so. I compliment women as often as the thoughts come into my mind. I love to catch people by surprise just by noticing them; letting them know I saw their kindness, I delighted in how pretty their eyes are, how their children look at them with admiration.

My heart’s passion is to encourage and uplift people, specifically women, more specifically mothers. I long for women to know they are enough. They are magnificent and they change the world by just being who they are. I love to pour out some of the wisdom and experiences that my life has offered me, so that maybe someone can learn from my mistakes, or redo my wins. I can only pray that as I do this which fuels my heart and soul, that I am part of a bigger picture; that is, leaving dimes for people all throughout my day.

Today I encourage you to look for the dimes that are surely along your path and to be the dime along someone else’s. Treasure hunting, is after all, worth the effort.

xoxo

Layna

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Written by: Layna
Blog MY MUSINGS Uncategorized

Grandma Jan; A Legacy of Love

April 25, 2018 4,180 Comments
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I sit here, watching her sleep. Brief glimpses of rest fall over her face when her eyelids succumb to the exhaustion; broken up with involuntary grimaces of pain. She looks so tiny, and helpless in the large hospital bed. I can scarcely believe that this is the same woman who joined the air forces and taught school in Iclavik because she longed to see the world and experience new things in a time when settling down, getting married and having children was expected. No trace of the fire cracker who left her beau standing hat in hand on NYE because he failed to confirm she was going with him to the party; so she went solo. Not a glimpse of the woman and who didn’t marry until she was 30 and had her last child at 40. All things that made her stand out in her generation. All of them washed away with the years, and unapparent now on her pained face.

I try not to cry but the tears keep falling, despite my resistance, they come. The student nurse peeks her head around the curtain to see if I’m ok. I nod. I don’t trust my own voice. I wipe my nose on my sweater sleeve again. A moment later a tiny box of 1ply swan wipes appear on her bed. The kind young nurse has procured them for me; saving my sweater.

I woke up this morning and the day began just like any other day. A walk in the crisp, early morning air, time spent in my journal talking to God and sipping my chai- bagels and eggo waffles for my little ones. Then it all changed. I received a call that my dear Grandma had fallen and broken her hip and was on her way to the hospital. The discouraging statistics flooded my mind. 30% of those over 80 who break their hip will not live through the traumatic surgery and 80% will not survive longer than 3 months. I can’t, I won’t, allow myself to imagine life without her.

Her IV beeps and wakes her from the peaceful slumber. I am caught. She looks at me as if the idea that she is causing me pain, is a greater pain than her fractured hip and femur. It kills me. I cry harder, silently. I can’t even make eye contact. It’s too much to see the pain of making me sad, reflected in her eyes. She gives me an out, “Do you have a cold dear?” I nod, knowing full well that if I had a cold she would kick me out of her hospital room faster than you can blink an eye. Colds are the bane of Gram’s existence. When she gets one, it lays her up for a whole week. But for tonight we both agree to the white lie. It’s easier for us both. Satisfied, she closes her eyes once again. Every few minutes flickers of pain pass across her face, but the steady rhythm of her chest rising and falling tells me she’s still resting.

I watch her sleep like a mother gazes upon her sleeping child. I wonder how many times she has watched over me like this – her “Precious”. It is my turn now. The circle of life; a beautiful and heart rending cycle. The swan wipes are making my nose raw.

I am grateful for this time that is just mine. No one else is here now. I’m like her 5th child; more like a child than a grandchild. Mom was young when she had me and we lived with my grandparents until she married when I was 3; my grandparents remained permanent fixtures in my life long after I had moved out. We all know the days ahead will be hard, no matter the outcome, so taking turns is necessary. Her four children are happy to let me sit a spell.

I envision having all these conversations that I may never get to have again. But it is clear she is not ready to have them. I want this to be about her, and yet I want it to be about me and what I want; the opportunity to say all the things in my heart. To let her know that being her granddaughter has been one of the best gifts of my life. That her and grandpa’s love has shaped me each day and I am who I am today because of them. That I will honour and treasure her long after she’s gone. I will push the boundaries society has laid for me, if they do not suit me. I will see the legacy of love she created lives on in me and my family. I want to promise her that I will never forget. Ever.

She stirs and wakes long enough to scold me about going home to my babies. I hold her hand and look into her eyes and mine spill forth again. She knows. She understands. She feels. But she does what she does best, and offers me comfort. Just like she has since I was a baby. I don’t remember life without snuggling into her ample bosom and being rocked and sang to. I can still hum the tune, sing the words “Grandma loves her, Grandpa loves her, she’s our precious Layna girl.”

“For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. I’m good to go now. Please don’t be sad or worry about me dear,”she consoles. “I’m not ready Gram.” “You will never be ready love. I could live to be a hundred and you would not be ready. But I am ready. I will see you after my surgery tomorrow. You know you are so very precious to me. Grandma loves you. Go on now, go home to your family.” Even in her fragile state, I know not to argue.

The drive home gives me time to absorb, to process, to contemplate. So many of the people she has loved most are no longer with us. It’s like there is a party going on in Hawaii and the plane hasn’t stopped to pick her up yet. I don’t blame her for being ready. She has a solid faith and knows that her death is not the end. And so do I, but I can’t help selfishly wanting her to stay on this side of eternity, with me.

I can only hope my grandchildren love and revere me the way I do her.

There is nothing free in this life, and the way I adore her is no exception. It cost her many late nights rocking me to sleep, it cost her many early mornings taking me to figure skating, it cost her a lot of time and money, effort, care, concern, compassion, and love. It looked like driving all night when I got sick and lived hours away with a two year old who needed to be tended. It looked like buying a beautiful car seat for Austin when I could scarcely afford a used one. It looked like fancy dresses that twirled just so, it looked like stopping at native trading posts for me to try on moccasins all across Canada, it looked like selfless devotion. And I know she wouldn’t trade a moment of it for anything. And it is what I have to offer her in return.

The surgery that easily could have claimed her life has been performed, and was a success. Even under anesthetic her profound stubbornness, blessedly endured! I should have known when she told me she would see me after the surgery, she meant it.

Hours of grueling physio lay ahead, and endless days stretching into weeks, of lonely hospital life and food. It is my turn now to pour into the life of the one who poured into mine. So I will give up time and rest in exchange for long drives, McDonald’s muffin and DQ banana split deliveries and I will be given the opportunity to give back a little of what I have received.

I have been given my heart’s wish. To let her know that being her granddaughter has been one of the best gifts of my life. That her and grandpa’s love has shaped me each day, and I am who I am today, because of them. That I will honour and treasure her long after she’s gone. That I will push the boundaries society has laid for me, if they do not suit me. That I will see the legacy of love she created, lives on in me and my family. I will spend the rest of her days promising her that I will never forget. Ever.

Xoxo

Layna

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