Sunday Reflection: Staying awake, or constant awareness?

Today's reflection is brought to you by 

Matthew 24: 37-44.

As were the days of Noah, so will be the coming of the Son of man. For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day when Noah entered the ark, and they did not know until the flood came and swept them all away, so will be the coming of the Son of man. Then two men will be in the field; one is taken and one is left. Two women will be grinding at the mill; one is taken and one is left. Watch therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.

But know this, that if the householder had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have watched and would not have let his house be broken into. Therefore you also must be ready; for the Son of man is coming at an hour you do not expect. 

(For months with a 5th Sunday, Pastor Quinn takes a break from preaching, so this is what I shared with the Sanctuary of Peace Community this morning...)

Today is Hope Sunday, the First Sunday of Advent, the season that leads us to Christmas. I love Advent, a time of hopeful waiting, and its small bits of light, one candle at a time to dispel the darkness of these winter days. The growing of the light from the Advent wreath beautifully represents the way hope grows... into peace, then joy, then full-fledged love, which is Christmas, God-with-us. 

 But in today’s gospel reading, Jesus’ words make me feel a little uneasy. I can count the 24 days of Advent, the days left before Christmas. But how many days and years are there before I meet Creator face to face? 

Uncle Rudolph

 Yesterday I drove to Saskatchewan and back for my Uncle Rudolph’s funeral. His death was a surprise to me. I expect it might have been to him, too. Saturday morning one week ago, he got ready as usual to go out to his farm land, but somehow never made it. It seems it was his time to go to God's house instead. And Jesus reminds us today that those washed away by Noah’s flood didn’t know their time was coming, either, nor can any of us guess when our time will be. Life and death are unpredictable, aren’t they? 

 But I don’t think that the end of the world or our own deaths are the only things Jesus is talking about here. Some Christians like to think he’s referring to something called The Rapture, where some people will go directly to heaven and others will stay behind because they're not good enough. A strange thought when we know that Jesus says to all of us in John’s gospel, “In my Father’s house are many rooms, and I am going to prepare a place for you there.” 

 Is Jesus warning us to be ready for the end of our lives when he says, “Keep awake, therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming”? Or could he also be saying, watch out because God isn’t just on the way, God is already here, right now, and with you at every moment. Watch for God always! 

 Constantly staying awake to our own lives and Creator’s presence might not be something we give much thought, but you can bet it was something Jesus did all the time. Those of us who have been enjoying Thursday Morning Movie Madness and watching The Chosen this fall have seen Jesus portrayed as one who is very plugged in to God’s presence. When he opens his eyes in the morning, before anything else happens, Jesus says something like, “Blessed are you, Creator of the Universe, for you have given me another day to open my eyes and see your goodness.” When Jesus sits down to eat, he blesses Creator for food. When he goes to sleep, he blesses Creator for giving him the day he just had. God is always on his mind, and with his spirit. 

 I'm guessing none of us have Jesus's constant awareness of God, but these are things we can all do. We just need to take the opportunities as they come. Ever think about thanking God when you see a friendly face? Or a perfect little snowflake on your sleeve? Ever chat with God when things are going well, or when they're not? Ever acknowledge God while you’re washing your face, walking through the snow, or just saying hello? 

 Jesus is our model when it comes to connecting with God. In the Gospels there are many examples of him just bursting out into prayer in all sorts of situations. He brought God into everything he did. And if we do like Jesus did, when we reach the end of our lives, we’ll have no worries because Creator is our closest friend. God won’t feel like a stranger to us if we’ve invited him into everything we are doing, saying, thinking, and feeling all along our journey. And if we invite her to use our hands and feet to do their will, even better! 

 So let’s practice. Let’s invite Creator into this moment, not that an invitation is necessary. But don’t you like to be invited into things? 

 I invite you to settle as comfortably as you can into your chair. Set your feet on the floor and straighten your back if you are able. We’re together in this Sanctuary of Peace, so close your eyes if you like. You're safe here.

 Relax your shoulders and hands, and just rest in stillness and quietness. Breathe in and out, and feel the air God gives you to keep you alive flowing in and out… Our breath is gift. 

 Imagine an empty chair facing you, and invite Creator, or Creator’s son, or Spirit, to have a seat there...

 Feel their loving gaze upon you. Rest in the warmth of their smile... 

 In your heart, speak to God about something that gave you joy this week... 

 Then share something that made you sad or angry. Notice God’s sympathetic expression... 

 Tell about the smallest thing you noticed. Does Creator nod in agreement, marveling along with you?

 Thank God for something that you appreciated. Hear God say, “You’re welcome, my beloved one.”

 God is smiling upon you, and reaches out to take your hands. How does it feel when God holds your hands? 

 As your time with God comes to a close, they say, “I love you, my child. Remember that I’m here for you, always ready to share in your life.” 

 Gently open your eyes if they were closed, and bring your awareness back to this room. 

And we’ll pray together: 

Thank you, Creator. 
Thank you, Jesus, 
Thank you, Spirit, 

 for being with me in all that I think, do, or say. 
Help me to remember that You are always with me, 

 so that I can include You,  
and share with You all the important moments in my life, 

 and even the unimportant ones. 
Bless me with an awareness of Your presence that helps others to see You, too. 
Make me a sign of Your love to others, 
 and use my hands and feet to do Your will. 

 +Amen

And thank you, Creator, for Uncle Rudy and the life of faithful and loving service he lived for family, friends and community. His warmth and kindness live on in his family -- grant them peace and consolation in their time of sorrow, and joy when they meet him again where he waits for them, likely singing with the angel choir and/or setting up a game of cards or bunnock for everyone to enjoy! 

Uncle Rudolph, I will miss you. I'm sorry that I never got your name the way you liked it best.

Love always,
Maria

The blue wagon goes missing

Cold weather is arriving this week, colder than we've had yet this fall. And when you're homeless and trying to survive in the outdoors, temperatures below zero are always an issue; warm clothing a must.

A replacement wagon?

Fortunately for Sanctuary of Peace and our Tuesday Table Time ministry, we've been receiving a lot of good winterwear, snacks, handwarmers, and toiletries "survival kits" from friends who know about our street ministry. Every week, we wait outside Bissell Centre East to meet those who live on the streets or in shelters located nearby. We offer them basic necessities, often things donated to us, that folks can't afford to purchase for themselves.

A few years ago, a friend donated a blue canvas collapsible wagon that we've used to transport a lot of Table Time supplies. We've guarded it carefully because we know so many of our folks would love to have it for their own use. We've often heard, "Is that wagon up for grabs?"

and received a lot of good-natured teasing when we said, "No, we need it or we can't set up our table next week."

Even so, the wagon suddenly vanished. We realized it was missing on Sunday because we usually fill it with left over cardboard boxes after we pass out the 200+ lunch bags supplied by our supporting communities. Its absence was felt again today because we had more than the usual Table Time supplies to offer folks ahead of this coming cold snap. We did a big search for our missing wagon, with staff at the Bissell Centre helping as well. Pastor Quinn also checked with the Provincial Navigation Centre across the street. 

No luck.

The wagon was very much missed for the hour and a half that we managed to give away piles and bins of good warm clothing, snacks, toiletries and gloves (we never have enough gloves for everybody). I and others made extra trips to and from our office, juggling boxes in our arms as we tried to navigate door handles. Good thing I did my Tai chi this morning to warm up those muscles!

Unless our wagon turns up this week, which we highly doubt, we're on the lookout for a new one, and/or anyone who might like to contribute toward it.

I've priced them out, and a good collapsible wagon (we don't have a lot of storage space) costs more than $100, more like $150. It has to have a heavy-duty metal frame, with good wheels that can roll down the corrugated metal ramp from our office to the street. Cheaper wagons with tiny wheels or a box that isn't sturdy enough to carry our bins and boxes just won't cut it.

If you're looking for a way to support folks living rough in the heart of the city, cash donations to Inner City Pastoral Ministry (our old name) will help us to buy a new wagon -- or, if you prefer, gloves, snacks and other winter items that people really need right now. Click here for a link to our website's donation page. E-transfers can be sent directly to icpmgiving @gmail.com, and tax receipts will be issued by our board treasurer.

Any amount helps. Our arms and backs will be much happier when we can use another wagon, and our friends on the street are always happy to receive Table Time assistance, whatever form it takes.

Monday Music Appreciation: Salt then sour then sweet

I hadn't heard of poet Andrea Gibson before they died of cancer in July, but my social media blew up that day, and I soon discovered what an amazing poet and human being they were.

Brandi Carlile and Sara Bareilles released a gorgeous piece of music last week with one of Andrea's poems and some video clips. It seems to contain all of life's "feels." Here it is for you to enjoy.

Just for today, imagine...

... arriving in kindergarten in new clothes your mom bought especially for the occasion, but feeling like they're all wrong somehow.

... preferring to play with kids of the opposite gender, and being shunned by those of your assigned-at-birth gender for it.

... feeling your parents' disapproval for refusing to wear "the right clothes." 

... hating your body when you reach puberty because it's taking a shape that doesn't match who you know yourself to be.

... being bullied and made fun of by other kids because you can't fit in with the image of your assigned-at-birth gender.

... wishing you could play sports on the opposite-gendered team because your sense of competition matches better with theirs.

... being afraid of your parents' reaction if you tell them that you're feeling depressed and anxious in your body, that you are wanting to transition in some way.

... "coming out" as a trans person at school because it feels safer to try your real self out among supportive school mates than at home.

... not "coming out," just flying under the radar and feeling scared and alone because no one can know the real you, only the mis-gendered you.

... considering killing yourself because it's too hard to pretend to be someone you're not.

... talking (or not talking) to your favourite teacher, telling them about your feelings and your desire to change your name, and feeling supported and safe with them (or unsupported and afraid because of possible repercussions).

... being told by other adults that you are just going through a phase, or that you've been brainwashed by the "Trans Agenda," or that God made only two genders -- "He made you as you are and He doesn't make mistakes."

... going through a period of severe and debilitating depression and dysphoria, until your parents insist on getting help for you when you tell them everything.

... going through a period of severe and debilitating depression and dysphoria, telling your parents why, and being kicked out of the house.

... starting hormone therapy, and feeling for the first time like things are changing for the better.

... following your heart bravely, with (or without) family support, doing what you have to do to feel "right" within yourself. 

... changing your name officially to one that fits you. 

... finding a Gay Straight Alliance or other supportive group of other 2SLGBTQIA+ people who make you laugh, support you, and share your interests.

... navigating many medical hurdles and hurtful human judgments, battling gender dysphoria for years while on a lengthy waiting list for the medical care you need. 

... completing the psychological assessments and painful surgeries necessary to become who you know yourself to be.

... rejoicing in a body that finally fits you, but still worrying about the violent tendencies of those who judge you and refuse to even try to understand.

... sitting in the gallery of the Alberta Legislative Assembly, angry tears streaming down your cheeks as the government tables legislation preventing other people from being able to do what you have done to survive and thrive as a transgender person.

* * * * * * *

Today is the Transgender Day of Remembrance, a day when we remember those people who have died due to the harms caused by a society that feels uncomfortable because some people just don't fit into the expected gender boxes.

As a Catholic mom of a trans person, and someone who knows other really wonderful trans people, I can't sit in silence. My church's refusal to allow for the existence of trans people has driven me to its edges, and to a more inclusive faith community. And the government is even worse -- this has been a horrifying week for the trans community as they watch their human rights being eroded by the Alberta government's invocation of the notwithstanding clause, preventing court challenges against anti-trans legislations that endanger kids like mine.

Even one life lost because of these laws is one too many.

If you know any trans people, be sure give them your support and love today, and consider contacting your own government representatives to let them know that Trans Rights are Human Rights that you support, wherever you may be. 

Superhuman? Maybe not

Lee and I collected a lot of leaves from our neighbours (with permission) on the day before the city's designated leaf and yard waste collection at the beginning of November. I never did count how many bags, but I'm guessing it was well over sixty.

The next day, I took the dog for a big morning walk, and went out after lunch to put the garden to bed. It seemed a daunting task -- moving those bags of leaves around, loosening up soil in our garden boxes, and then covering the boxes. 

Bare soil is dying soil, or so say many soil scientists -- beneficial microbes, worms, and insects that help rejuvenate dirt and create compost need protection through our harshest seasons -- and the rest of the year, too. That's why my yard has leaf litter covering the soil all year long. It can look a bit messy, especially in the spring before the plants fill out, but it's better for them overall and I don't have to water as much when it's hot.

Here's the yard after two hours of work. See the beds against the back fences covered in leaves? 

It's kinda hard to tell, 
but that's probably 250 sq feet of soil work and coverage.

I used some leaf bags to fill our leaf corral to the brim, 

and stored a dozen others for next year's composting.
Two hours and another 250 sq feet later, it looked like this:

I ran out of steam when it came to packing leaves around my front yard rose bushes, but figured it was okay to leave that job for the next day. When Lee got home from work that evening, he was surprised at how much I'd accomplished, and I teased him that he has a superhuman wife. 

Of course, that evening I had to take ibuprofen. Somehow I don't think superhumans have such sore muscles after an afternoon of heavy yard work, but I'm not as young as I used to be. 

When it snowed three days later (more snow than what you see below as I took this picture after it started melting on Saturday), I was happy that the garden was tucked in for the season. We'll start all over again in the spring, hopefully with happy, healthy, and moist soil. Time to enjoy more indoor pursuits in place of gardening!

Sunday reflection: Control is an illusion

Flowers from my sisters
after this week's scary time...

Today's reflection is brought to you by Luke 20: 27-36.

Today was my turn to lead morning prayer at Sanctuary of Peace. Here's what I shared with the community:

Even to our 21st century ears, the question the Sadducees are asking Jesus in this morning’s gospel reading sounds like a bad joke with a strange punchline! I mean, what is the likelihood that a woman would marry a guy with six brothers only to have him die, then marry each his brothers in turn, only to have the same thing happen again and again. Highly unlikely! 

My husband has three brothers, and if anything happened to him, I wouldn’t want to marry them no matter what the Sadducees' rules were. They are not my type, and I’m not theirs! Thank heavens my partner is alive and well, and that the Sadducees’ rules don’t apply to me! 

But the Sadducees theoretical story and the rules about marriage brought up other things for me. The imaginary woman in their story had no control over what happened to her because of the religious rules of the day. Women had no choice but to do what authorities like the Sadducees said, and they were all men, which also wasn’t fair. And while we'd like to say that things have changed, for a lot of women around the world, that’s not the case. We’re bound by rules, written and unwritten, that men have made.

But that’s not my main point here. My point is that none of us, no matter our gender, have as much control in our lives as we like to think. The idea of control is an illusion we offer ourselves – until something blows that illusion to smithereens. 

Accidents happen. People die. A friend of mine was recently fired for no reason. Another friend’s marriage ended. Things valuable to us are lost or broken. On Thursday, someone I love very deeply experienced a medical crisis, and all I could do was hold on to her and pray as medical personnel worked on her. She came through okay, but I’ve never been more afraid in my life. And I'm still afraid that other things may go wrong for her.

So the Sadducees’ silly story raised a couple of big questions for me this week. How do we feel when we don’t have control over situations in our lives? And what do we do with those feelings? 

I have a few methods for handling life when things are out of my control. Sometimes I bottle up my feelings and try to push my way through situations as if they don’t really exist. Or, I get really scared and angry and lash out at people around me even when it’s not their fault. Other times, depression and hopelessness can bring me to my knees. 

Sometimes I need to sit down and ugly cry for a while, or stand outside on a windy day and swear loudly at God. Ever done that? It's quite therapeutic, and God has big shoulders -- They can handle it. I’ve also been known to try to make deals with Creator, saying, “If you can improve this situation and give me back some control, I’ll do big things for you too.” Ha, like I can do big things for God!

But few of these “coping mechanisms” actually help. It’s only when I can really let go of my anger and fear and need for control, when I am able to accept an uncontrollable situation with some grace, that I can find relief and feel more peaceful about it. Jesus, in the garden of Gethsemane, is a good model for this. Facing his death, he somehow managed to say, "Not my will, but Yours be done" to God. Jesus stands in solidarity with all of us when we don't have control over life's situations. But I'm not as good at this as Jesus.  

Jesus didn't complain, or let people walk all over him. He stood up against injustice when he could. But his example tells me that when there’s nothing I can do, I need to cry and grieve and let go of my need for control; to turn the situation over to Creator, who holds us all together, who holds together this universe we live in through love for all that is. 

I need to to say that famous prayer, God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. 

That’s when I remember that Creator sees each and every one of us as Her beloved. He cries for all the ways human beings judge each other and treat each other unfairly with arbitrary rules that favour some people and hurt others. Creator wants what’s best for each one of us, but They don’t hand it to us on a silver platter. God knows that we live and grow most when we learn to hand over control in our lives to the One who really knows what’s going down. When we can say, like in the prayer of the four directions, “we are little and need Your pity,” we can be freed from our need for control. 

But let’s go back to the Sadducees and their silly story. Jesus tells them, “You guys have it all wrong. You’re worrying about who is married to who in heaven -- which you don’t even believe in -- but Creator doesn’t care about all that. God welcomes everyone to the resurrection of the dead because they are like angels and are children of God, being children of the resurrection.” Creator made everything, and wants what’s best for all Their children. We just need to work with Creator to allow that to happen, even when things are out of our control. 

Allow me to repeat that: God wants what’s best for all of us. We just need to allow that to happen. Especially when things are out of our control. 

As I always do, I would like to leave an opportunity for everyone to rest a few moments in this Sanctuary of Peace, to have a conversation with Creator. 

I invite you to settle as comfortably as you can. Straighten your back, set your feet on the floor, close your eyes or lower them, and relax. Breathe in and out, slowly and gently. In… and out… 

Let go of your thoughts and make an empty space for God to fill you. 

Imagine walking into a room deep in your own heart, a room lit by a single candle. Creator surrounds you in this space, a loving presence, warm and enveloping. 

Just wait with Creator in the semi-darkness… Creator invites you to think about your life, and a situation where you feel like you have little or no control… 

Silently tell Creator about it… and how you feel about it… how you hope it might be solved… 

Creator makes no promises… but the candle burns a little more brightly as you sit together in the silence… 

As your time together comes to a close, Creator says, “I love you, my child. I only want what is best for you. Let go... and let me help you. Let’s work together toward your peace of heart and mind and soul…"

When you are ready, return to this space… 

Let’s pray together: 

Creator, 

We thank you for your presence in our lives, 

especially in those situations where we have no control. 

When we are afraid or angry, 

feeling helpless or hopeless, 

remind us that you are with us, 

and that you want neither suffering nor distress to harm us. 

Help us to trust you. 

Help us to believe in your love. 

Help us to let go. 

Give us your peace when we need it the most. 

Give all your children peace. 

 +Amen

Monday Music Appreciation #65: A beloved opera melody

I haven't been posting moodlings very frequently over the last while, though I'm always composing them in my head as I move through life. I guess I've gotten out of the habit of sitting at my laptop where moodling happens most easily. Also, I am more than a bit perturbed by the way AI bots are mining my blog for ideas (for example, the image I made to accompany my moodling from April 8, 2021 is now a t-shirt in 10 different colours if I am to believe the internet, ugh -- and without my permission, or Louise Penny's!). It's enough to make me want to pull the plug, period, on Simple Moodlings. I'm realistic enough to know that no one would really miss it! (Except maybe me.)

But old habits die hard, and I love sharing music (and other ideas) so here I am with another Monday Music Appreciation moodling. A few weeks ago, I was blessed to sit in the Winspear Centre audience for a gorgeous evening of Opera's Greatest Hits. So much fantastic classical music, and to top it all off, the second last piece was Giuseppi Verdi's Va Pensiero, the chorus of the Hebrew slaves from Nabucco. It's a wonderful example of lament, longing, and hope, and gorgeous Italian that I can sing to this day because my brain holds onto strange things, and my Up With People cast performed it for a solid month when we travelled through Italy. It was a real crowd-pleaser. On that evening two weeks ago, I sang along quietly with tears of joy and delight rolling down my cheeks.

But today, the video I'm posting below is a part of my own lament:

-- for homeless people who are dying on our streets because government refuses to invest in appropriate forms of harm reduction.

-- for decisions being made that take us further into climate change rather than away from it.

-- for teachers forced back to work without having their concerns addressed, and for all people caught up in the so-called "affordability crisis."

-- for migrants and others who face prejudice and oppression just because their English is accented and their skin is not white.

And though I could go on and on about the things I am lamenting today, I'll end on a lighter note:

-- for the Toronto Blue Jays, a truly cohesive team who won the hearts of Canadians, sports fans or not, even though they lost the World Series this past Saturday. Next year, boys!

Va pensiero sull' ali dorate -- fly, my thoughts on gilded wings, toward hopeful solutions to the world's ills, toward trust that somehow, all shall be well.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vA0wLGb92fs&t=1s

Sunday Reflection: All my tears be washed away

Today's reflection is brought to you by 

Isaiah 25: 6-8.

On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples 

    a feast of rich food, a feast of well-matured wines, 

    of rich food filled with marrow, of well-matured wines strained clear. 

And God will destroy on this mountain 

    the shroud that is cast over all peoples, 

    the sheet that is spread over all nations; 

God will swallow up death for ever. 

Then the Lord God will wipe away the tears from all faces...

This morning we celebrated All Souls' Day at Sanctuary of Peace. It was a very meaningful service in more ways than one. Pastor Quinn gave a beautiful reflection on the reading from Isaiah, and offered everyone present an opportunity to come forward and light a candle in memory of loved ones who have gone "home." Our community of low-income and homeless folks know so many on the other side of the veil... one of whom just passed beyond the veil this morning due to a fentanyl overdose. The drugs out there right now are at a level of lethal that ends lives and breaks hearts far too often.

As part of the service, Pastor Quinn asked for a special song, All My Tears, written by Julie Miller. Julie's version, which you can hear by clicking this link, has an aching rawness (perhaps because she can sing an interesting dissonance) that really appeals to Quinn, who met her in his past. Julie and Buddy, her partner, do things with this song that Evan and I can't carry off, and not just because we don't have drums and electric guitar at our disposal. Emmylou Harris's version is even more haunting in my books. There's just something about her voice...

It was tricky to learn this song in the short time we had, but Evan and I managed to sing something a bit closer to the video below, put together by Wild Blue Yonder, an excellent Appalachian bluegrass band. Of course, they can apply a few more gorgeous harmonies than us two Sanctuary musicians, along with wonderful fiddle, banjo, mandolin, etc...

On this All Souls' Day, I hope that you can imagine your loved ones who have gone ahead singing these words to you, and find comfort in the God who intends that we'll all be home and we'll all be free, with all our tears washed away. 

Sunday Reflection: A visit to Creator’s kitchen

Today's reflection is brought to you by 
Luke 13:18-21 and Luke 17:5-6.

Jesus said to the crowd, “What is the kin-dom of God like? To what can I compare it? It’s like a mustard seed planted in a garden which grew into a large bush, and the birds of the sky dwelt in its branches.”

Then he said, “To what else shall I compare the kin-dom of God? It’s like yeast that a woman mixed in three measures of wheat flour until the whole batch of dough was leavened.”

Later, when the apostles asked Jesus to increase their faith, Jesus said: “If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you would say to [this] mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.”

As Jesus continued on the journey to Jerusalem, the Pharisees questioned him about when the reign of God would come. He answered, “The reign of God is not something that can be observed. Nor will people be able to say, ‘Look, it’s here!’ or, ‘There it is!’ God’s reign, God's kin-dom, is already within you.”

* * * * * * *

It was my Sunday to lead our Morning Prayer Service at Sanctuary of Peace, and people were very attentive to the reflection below... and appreciated the surprise at the end!

Maybe you’ve already heard about the mustard seed Jesus mentions in today’s gospel reading. His words might make you think of the church building down the street that’s going to be demolished soon… it was named the Mustard Seed because of this passage from scripture. If we back up 2000 years, the little mustard seed Jesus talks about is a tiny thing that grows into a shrub big enough for birds to rest in. 

Fast forward to 1993, a small group of people start the Mustard Seed organization, its name signifying a small place growing out of faith, a shelter where people who struggle could rest and get food and clothing in hard times. That Mustard Seed gathered people who did a lot of good work together, and still exists here in Edmonton, and other cities in Alberta. I mention this because it’s important to honour their work. 

Photo by KWON JUNHO on Unsplash

And then there’s Jesus’ image of a woman putting yeast into flour. Yeast is tiny too, smaller than a mustard seed, almost invisible stuff that grows and makes dough rise into something light and delicious when it’s baked or fried. 

With these examples of tiny mustards seeds and almost invisible yeast, Jesus is telling us that when it comes to faith, we don’t need a great big whack of it. A little seed, a little dab’ll do ya. He’s not expecting us to walk around uprooting mulberry trees and planting them in the North Saskatchewan. He’s reminding us that faith can be a powerful thing when we let it grow in our lives like yeast and mustard seeds do. But what is faith, and how do we help it to grow? 

Faith, in dictionary definitions, is belief and trust, loyalty and fidelity. And these things are easily applied to things we can see, people we know. I trust in Quinn as an excellent pastor and friend to our community, his bad jokes aside. I have faith in Evan and Chuck’s ability to make amazing music. And I believe in our Sanctuary of Peace community, especially when I see you caring for each other both here and outside on the streets. You are “God-with-skin-on” for each other, and for me. Every smile, every fist bump, every hug lifts my heart. 

As human beings, we find it easy to believe what’s in front of our noses. But when it comes to Creator’s presence in all that’s going on, we might have to make a leap of faith. To find God in the places where life is hard and nothing seems to be going right is a huge challenge. It requires that we suspend our pessimism, our catastrophizing, our disbelief, and wait for Creator to show us Her presence in the little things, to somehow reveal His presence in each person, to offer Their presence in all the beauty and goodness and truth that exists in spite of the messiness of life. 

As human beings, we want certainty. We want to know for sure what’s going on, what’s going to happen. But Jesus is reminding us, “There is no certainty in this life. Faith the size of a mustard seed is all you need,” because it brings other things with it. And you know what those are. St. Paul nailed it when he said, Three things matter – “Faith, hope and love, and the greatest of these is?” (And the people replied...) LOVE. 

So, when the Pharisees ask Jesus about when God’s reign will arrive, you can almost hear him rolling his eyes. They know as well as he does that there’s no certainty when it comes to this life, and that faith, that Creator’s reign can’t be nailed down. They’re imagining a messiah to magically save the world, and they want to know when. 

But God’s reign doesn’t operate that way. Jesus is basically saying, “You guys have it all wrong. The reign of God is not a certain place or time that can be announced. There won’t be one human being in charge of it. It’s not even a churchy idea. It’s an experience that’s available to everybody. The reign of God is now, right here, in the hearts of people who have faith. People who love the way Creator wants everyone to love.” 

Jesus is actually telling us all, “The reign of God is within you.” 

How does that make you feel? 

Let’s sit with that for a few minutes, and with the Creator of the universe. 

I invite you to straighten your backs if you can, and settle into your chairs. 

Put your feet flat on the floor, and take in a deep breath through your nose, and let it out gently through your mouth... a couple of times, and then just breathe as is comfortable for you. 

Relax your body into stillness, and clear your mind if you can. 

Follow me to Creator’s kitchen. It’s warm and full of sunlight, and there’s a heavenly smell of fresh bread that She has just pulled out of the oven, steaming hot. 

Creator smiles at you, and He invites you to sit on a padded rocking chair in the corner. They hand you a mustard seed. See its littleness, just a tiny thing in your hand. Look at it closely. It wouldn’t exist if God didn’t love it. Neither would we. Neither would our faith. 

Do you have this seed-sized faith in your heart? Or maybe a little more? 

Can you trust that Creator wants only goodness for you? For the world? 

Creator has been bustling around the kitchen, and They give you a piece of warm, fresh bread. Its yeasty fragrance makes your mouth water. Looking at it, you see where the yeast left little air pockets to make the bread light and fluffy. 

Does your faith in God ever lighten the heaviness of life for you? 

Creator pulls up a chair and sits with you. 

Now is your chance to tell God how you are feeling about life right now. How is your faith doing? 

Is it a lamp for your feet, or burning so dimly that it’s hard to find your path? 

What is weighing you down? 

Is anything lifting you up? 

Is there someone or something that you want to give into Creator’s caring hands? 

Talk to Creator about what's in your heart in the next few minutes of silence...

....

...And now I invite you to thank Creator for your time together, and slowly bring yourself back to this space. 

And let's pray together... 

God of all things and all people, 

We offer you our little mustard seeds, our small yeast of faith. 

We ask you to turn them into bigger faith, hope and love 

that our world, our country, our community needs. 

You love us exactly as we are and give us what we need to love you back. 

Help us to share our faith in you and to be your beauty, goodness and truth for others. 

Bless this Sanctuary of Peace and let Creator’s reign be visible in the way we love each other. 

We ask this in all your holy names, 

God forever and ever. 

+Amen.

At this point, I opened up a bundle of towels that was keeping a loaf of French bread warm from my oven at home, and everyone had a small piece (with just two crusts left over, whew... I was afraid there wouldn't be enough, but of course the Holy Spirit worked it out). You can't invite people to visit Creator's kitchen without sharing bread!

Monday Music Appreciation #64 -- Ahi's Human Kind

Life has been so busy (I'm up to my neck in garden produce!) that I've kind of forgotten about Monday Music Appreciation Moodlings... but this morning I'll take a few moments to rectify that!

As part of our significant birthday celebrations this year, Lee and I spent Saturday, August 9th at Edmonton's Folk Music Festival on Gallagher Hill, just a few blocks from home. It was a perfect August day, and we enjoyed music from start to finish, though we came home a bit early as I was in charge of the Sunday morning service downtown the next day.

We went into the festival not knowing much about any of the artists because most of the "headliners" weren't really familiar to us, and we didn't have the full weekend pass for the evening shows with the big names. But what we saw was understated -- and spectacular -- in its own way. I may have a few more Monday Music Appreciation Moodlings coming in the next few weeks from that one beautiful Saturday.

Today I'll start with the artist that moved me to tears with the song below. His name is pronounced like "eye", and he has a smoky, simple style of singing. Lee and I both agreed we could listen to a lot more of him. Here's his song, Human Kind, which he sang from the stage in the picture above, as the tears rolled down my cheeks. Email subscribers can click here if it's visible on your email.

Enjoy!

Sunday Reflection: a little shock treatment

Today's reflection is brought to you by

Psalm 139 and Luke 14:25-33.

Well, that’s a challenging Gospel reading. Not sure I like it very much when Jesus tells me I have to hate my parents and children and give up everything I have, how about you? But hopefully we’ll make some sense of why he would do that in the next few minutes together.

First though, I invite you to think for a moment about your own life. Are there people who have been particularly supportive to you at different times? People who have been “God-with-skin-on” for you? People who have your back?

The guy who is playing guitar this morning is one of those people in my life. Chuck helped me a lot when our mutual friend, Pauline, died at the age of 21 from complications after surgery to replace a faulty heart valve. Pauline’s sister called to let me know that Pauline had survived the surgery, but was brain dead. I was 19, my family was away on vacation, and I needed someone to talk to and cry with. To this day, I’m not sure why, but I took a few deep breaths and called Chuck.

My friend, Pauline

God bless him, he drove to meet me right away, and we went for a long walk in a park, talking about our friend Pauline and praying for her and her family while she was being taken off of life support. And when the family asked me to play my guitar for Pauline’s funeral, Chuck came to play and sing too. He had my back when I couldn’t see through my tears or sing through the lump in my throat. Chuck was “God-with-skin-on” for me at that time. He had my back.

This morning, in Psalm 139, we hear about how another Someone (with a capital S) has our back, even more so than Chuck had mine. The person who wrote the Psalm is speaking directly to God about how much He loves us and wants to be with us, no matter where we are. Our Creator knows us from the moment our lives start, right to their end, and She walks with us whether we’re on the highest mountain or in the depths of hell. Creator is there for us every moment of every day and then some, and has our back in every way possible.

But what helps us to understand this invisible Presence in our lives? For me, it’s always been my relationships with flesh and blood people who mediate God’s love for me, those people who are “God-with-skin-on,” like Chuck and yes, even many of you here. And I also need the scriptures that so often tell me about God’s love.

But today is a bit confusing. On the one hand, in the Psalm, we have this God who is so in love with us, She will follow us to the ends of the earth. But then, on the other hand, in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus is being kinda hardass, not the loveable, huggable God in the Psalm. 

So what’s up with that?

I’ve been puzzling over Jesus’ words about hating people all week, and the other hard words he's saying, and what I finally see is that he is giving the folks who are following him a little shock treatment. He’s telling them, “You’ve been walking with me for quite a while because you like the nice things I say about God. But what if He asks you to give up your parents, your spouse and children, and even your own life for a deeper relationship with Him? What if God wants you to put aside everything that distracts you from your relationship with Her? What if there’s a cross you have to carry?”

Jesus is asking all his followers – us included – “Are you willing to invest in our relationship from now right to the end, like someone building a tower, who needs to make sure they can finish it? Are you willing to be like a ruler who wisely sees that a certain battle is unwinnable, and humbly asks for peace? And are you willing to let go of everything you own… and maybe not just what you own, but also the ideas you have about who you are and what makes you important or special in your own mind, and accept that you are important and special just because you are God’s Beloved?

Jesus is reminding us that relationships are hard work and that if we want our relationship with God to work, we have to set aside everything that distracts us. We have to be in it for the long haul, right to the finish line. And sometimes, we have to accept and admit our limitations and rely on God instead of ourselves.

The thing about relationships is that there always comes a point where we have to decide – are we willing to risk and give more of ourselves, or not? Are we really willing to rely on the other person? To trust in them? Are we really willing to rely on God? To trust in Creator?

I invite you to take a deep breath and settle as comfortably as you can into your chair, putting your feet flat on the floor. Breathe in… and out… following your breath from your lips to the bottom of your lungs and back. What a miracle God gives us as we breathe!…  Relax any tightness in your body, allow yourself to rest quietly and come to complete stillness except for the beating of your heart. Close your eyes, or soften their focus if you can…

Picture yourself walking along your favourite path. What do you see? What do you hear? Where does the path lead?

As you walk, someone is coming toward you, and you realize that it is Jesus.

“How are you doing?” he asks, as he comes to walk beside you.

How do you reply?

“I’m here to invite you to deepen your relationship with God,” he says.

How does that make you feel?

“Is there anything distracting you from Creator’s love for you?” he asks.

Think about that, and tell Jesus anything on your heart.

“Only the ones who are willing to carry their own cross and follow me will learn my ways,” Jesus says.

Think about the challenges you face, the cross you carry. Ask yourself, “am I willing to carry it with God walking beside me?”

Spend a few quiet moments in silent conversation with Jesus now…

 

When you are ready, say goodbye to Jesus, open your eyes, and return to this space.

Let’s bow our heads and pray together:

 

Creator,

I know you want what’s best for me,

even though I don’t often know what that is.

You invite me to put you ahead of everything else in my life,

but that seems like an impossible, beautiful, scary thing.

I want to trust in your love for me,

I want to rely on you,

but I need your help.

Be with me in all the ups and downs of life,

as I carry my cross with you, right to the finish line,

and bring all your people home to you.

We ask this in the name of your son, our brother, Jesus.

+Amen.

Prayers for the sick and struggling

A bouquet I took
to ICPM on Sunday

Yesterday morning, Pastor Quinn went to the Royal Alex to visit one of our "flock," who was sent from the Stanley Milner Library to Emergency because of double pneumonia -- but J had checked himself out (well, walked out) before Quinn got there. 

This morning, J's mom arrived at Tuesday Table Time and told us she didn't know where J is, so we went looking for him after our table cleared off of the toiletries and snacks we had to share. We checked the library and walked all the way around Hope Mission, hoping to find J. No luck. He could be anywhere, and with this kind of illness plus an addiction to meth, all we can do is pray that someone who meets him can help him to get the care he needs.

Walking around the Hope this morning, though I've done it more than a few times, left me shocked yet again at the sheer numbers of homeless people milling around or sleeping on the sidewalks. It's not something that I spend a lot of time thinking about because it leaves me feeling sad that things are the way they are, guilty that my life is so much better than theirs, and hopeless that things are going to change. 

But in my morning meditation time today, I ran across this gem by Brother Lawrence, a fairly simple monk who tried to see God in all things/people:

Everything is possible for those who believe, even more for those who hope, still more for those who love, and most of all for those practice and persevere in these three powerful paths.

So we at Inner City Pastoral Ministry (soon to have a new name -- watch this space!) continue in these three paths to the best of our ability. And we pray for J to recover from his illness and addiction, and do what we can for all those we meet on the streets. 

Everything is possible, says Brother Lawrence. Especially for those who love God. 

August Daze

I'm feeling a bit dazed of late

as my vertigo has made a sudden return,

but even so, I'm loving this August. 
I'm not sure I like 
how much longer the shadows are 
in the mornings and evenings 
because I know what that means 
(seasons are changing, sigh), 
but we're having that beautiful slanting sunlight 

that Remi-pup and I enjoy 
on our early morning walks 

and sunset strolls with Lee. 

And there's so much beauty to be found in August. 
Blooming roses, 

more blossoms than anyone could ever count

on just the hollyhocks in neighbours' yards 

(I need to plant me some of those!)
and colourful produce.

(I forgot to put the purple peacock beans
into this "kitchen counter still life,"
and if I could grow some sort of blue fruit
I'd have all the colours of the rainbow!)

Our formerly sickly pear tree
has made an amazing come back
and is loaded this year. 
Another week or two
and we'll be feasting on sweet pears
(and I'll have my work cut out for me,
giving them away, baking, and making jams!)

I delight in it all,

but most especially in the little friends

who came to our fountain this morning.

Monsieur Goldfinch 

was very protective of his Madame, 

keeping a close eye on nuthatch and sparrows

as she took her bath.

I hope you're enjoying these August days!

2025 Garden Report

Our garden this year is a bit more chaotic than it has been, mainly because I'm working about eighteen hours a week and dog-walking another eight or nine, and those things eat up a lot of gardening time. But things grow whether I'm paying attention or not, and we've been enjoying produce as it comes. This morning I picked a gallon of beans (5 gallons last week), pruned and watered the tomatoes and squash plants, and marveled at how high some of the weeds got before I pulled them (there are still too many to count)! Oh, the dill!

Last night we tasted our first onion, peppers, and potatoes fried together (yum). I took a huge caesar salad to the Inner City Pastoral Ministry Men's and Women's hot dog roast and picnic two weeks ago, I've got cauliflower in the freezer (the broccoli bolted while we were on vacation in early July), and the peas (snap and snow) are pretty much finished. I'll have plenty of climbing beans, the cucumbers are coming on, and I've managed to keep the pumpkins from growing through the fence into the neighbour's yard.  I'll have lots of seed for next year's tobacco, and though the corn seems a bit stunted, we may get a feed or two. My one regret is that I didn't plant enough carrots, but what can you do? It was a busy spring.

Berry wise, the raspberries, haskaps and domestic Saskatoon (service) berries have been outstanding. I'm still working on improving our strawberry bed -- so there won't be any strawberry jam this summer -- but maybe I can make pear/rhubarb jam instead. It was a big hit this past winter.

Now that I'm too busy to spend a lot of extra time weeding, my husband and kids are making suggestions about how to downsize our garden, but what I'd really like is a bit more help. Jay has a friend who might come and work with me for $20 an hour, and I'm sure we could make a big dent in the disorder together. But in the meantime, I'm enjoying having the ability to share produce, embracing the lushness of it all, and looking forward to good eating!

Don't mind the chaos! Click here for this year's 3-minute video garden report, or watch below. And if you're itching to get your hands into the dirt, I'd love to garden with you. There's so much to do!

Monday Music Appreciation #63: Amazing Grace?

Here's a Monday Music Appreciation Moodling with an update about what's been going on for Inner City Pastoral Ministry lately. I'll start with the music part, and if you're interested in the rest, well, you can wade through that below the video.

Yesterday at the Community of Emmanuel, I came inside from welcoming folks into our much-reduced space, and the Ever-Amazing Evan was playing House of the Rising Sun. He's played it many times before, and I was in the mood for singing, so I jumped in with the lyrics of Amazing Grace, as I've often heard Evan do in the past. Our folks love it.

This morning I received an email from a friend and board member whose church donated yesterday's lunches, commenting on how much she enjoyed the service and our Blind Boys of Alabama version of Amazing Grace. I had no idea that it originated with them, so I went looking and found today's music appreciation video. 

Ohhh yeaaahhhh. If you haven't heard it, here it is! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B0EN_Hmq534

And here's the update on what has happened for Inner City Pastoral Ministry these past two weeks or so. I am writing this mostly to keep the details together for myself, so don't feel you have to read it.

Wednesday, July 16th, Pastor Quinn had a phone meeting with a manager at the Bissell Centre, with whom we've had a 47-year collaboration in caring for inner-city community members. The manager told him that we had until August 1st to vacate our spaces (worship and storage) as the Bissell had to lease it to a third party. That's the day I asked moodlings readers to pray for us. (Thank you for your prayers -- you'll see they've helped.)

Thursday, July 17th, we had our Men's and Women's Groups hotdog roast and picnic at an inner-city park, and broke the news about our move to some of our community. "But why?" was the common question we heard over the next two weeks.

Friday, July 18th, a group of us went medicine picking in ditches east of Elk Island Park. It's hard not to pray when I'm picking sage, a good hotline to Creator, and I burned it up.

Saturday, July 19th was a memorial picnic for one of our long time community members. Barb's daughter, Annie, has remembered her mom with the Community of Emmanuel in this way for the last four years.

Sunday, July 20th we arrived at our worship space to discover that our usual chairs and tables were missing, pushed into back rooms. Extra set up and take down effort makes for a good Sunday morning workout! We explained to the Community of Emmanuel that July 27th would be our last service in the present space, that the next worship space would be much smaller, and that if they wanted to come and pray with us on Sundays, it would be, first come, first served. Or, as Quinn put it, "You snooze, you lose. Come early." Our ability to be hospitable has taken a big hit.

Monday, July 21st was supposed to be the start of Pastor Quinn's vacation, but with a rainy day and so much up in the air, he spent his time trying to nail down details about our move -- in vain. Our board chair also tried to contact the CEOs of Bissell to see if we could discuss our situation -- also to no avail. He did, however, receive a letter back letting us know that it is the Alberta Government's Provincial Navigation Centre (for shuffling homeless folks into shelters and detox beds, ready or not) who will move into what was our space, dashing our hopes that it would be someone willing to collaborate with us.

Tuesday, July 22nd to the morning of Friday, July 25th was Quinn and his son's camping trip to Drumheller, where phone/text connection isn't great, but I managed determine a time that Quinn could come to a meeting, got hold of the Bissell facility manager and set one up for Friday afternoon. He, Annie, our coffee coordinator, and I met with the manager, looked at the spaces we had to work with in Bissell East, and started formulating plans for how to use the space and for the big move.

Sunday, July 27th was our final service in Bissell Centre West. It was a good one, but I couldn't help feeling sad, knowing that we can't care for folks as easily as we did with more space, good coffee machines, and a much easier set up. I guess we'll just have to keep building muscles moving furniture and lugging around coffee urns.

Our old space

Monday, July 28th was the move. Three board members, Quinn, and I managed to clear out our storage spaces and pile things into bins and boxes to move to a room across the street in Bissell Centre East. The toughest thing to move was our altar, a cupboard on wheels with very low clearance. Sorting through and moving everything took us about five hours, and we left considerable chaos behind, but we kept our end of the bargain that Bissell insisted upon.

And really, we are grateful that they didn't kick us out entirely... but they could have given us a lot more time. Not too many landlords get away with a two-week eviction notice. Or they often do and I'm just naive...

Thursday, July 31st Bible Study morning began with a big question -- where did our TV go? Lucky for us, ever-helpful Bob the facility maintenance guy had it! He also saw to it that our coffee cabinet and  meal accessories locker got moved to the new space. Pretty well everything else left behind in the West building was destined for either the Bissell's Store or the dumpster.

Friday, August 1st was handover day to the Navigation Centre folks, who were taking a tour of our old space when we arrived to pick up Evan's electronic piano. Quinn and I spent another 5 hours putting things away and debating how to set up for Sunday morning. Much to our delight, we managed to fit 50 folding chairs into the Wolf Room that we are now using every Sunday.

Saturday, August 2nd we had a ministry team meeting in the new space to talk about how worship, coffee service and the handing out of lunches after the service would work. Evan set up his piano and did a sound check, and we prayed that the new space would serve us well.

Our new space

Sunday, August 3rd began with Quinn smudging the area with sweetgrass, and it was a gorgeous sunny morning for people to come and find us -- I posted signs on Bissell West and East explaining where to come for worship and that lunches would be served on the opposite side of the street. And people came. As is often the case early in the month (after folks get their social assistance cheques), it wasn't a big crowd, but we felt that the people who really wanted to be with us came to pray and sing and hear Quinn's beautiful words about our community being a place of prayer, peace, safety, and sanctuary.

After all was said and done, we all felt that this change, while not ideal, has been mostly positive. As Jesse, one of our regulars, put it, "I was anxious about how this was gonna work out, but you guys did just great, and I think it's gonna be fine."

It's fine right now with good weather, but we'll need to move into a different room in colder weather because our doors open directly to the great outdoors so we won't be able to keep the room warm in the winter with people coming and going. The larger room we are hoping to use will hopefully be vacated when a new facility opens for the social services agency in there now. It was actually ICPM's meeting place before Bissell West was built. So please, pray that all goes well with Boyle Street Community Services' move to the King Thunderbird Centre so that we can move to their larger room, and please continue to keep us in your prayers, that our community of prayer, peace, safety, and sanctuary can exist going forward.

Amazing Grace has been at work for us, no question. Amen, Hiy hiy!

A re-moodling: Taking a chance on each other

Every so often, someone reminds me of something I've moodled in the past, and I go back to it to be happily surprised by what's there. It's been a while since I've re-moodled anything, but right now I think this one deserves to be re-moodled. And shared with our neighbours to the south in particular, as ICE raids and deportations continue to damage their communities...

Why can't we just accept each others' humanity and cut everyone some slack??

* * * * * * * 

Wednesday, February 8, 2018

I’ve been noticing way too much anti-immigrant/refugee commentary here in Canada, and it’s really bothering me. Yesterday it reached the tipping point in my head and spilled out in a grumpy, miserable moodling that I’ve toned down a lot. Even so, this may get a bit messy:

With the exception of Canadian-from-the-very-beginning Indigenous people (who are still handling the effects of long-term Canadian racism -- another huge problem that still needs to be addressed), we, the people of Canada, are made up of immigrants and refugees from all over the world. Most of us came from other places to belong to a country that wasn’t ours to begin with. None of us really own our homeland, but we have helped to shape it into a country that strives to be open toward and tolerant of our human differences -- with varying rates of success.

My own great-grandparents were Russian-German farmers and blacksmiths who left their land near the Volga river during the Russian Revolution in the early 1900s. They came to Western Canada simply because their lives had been caught between the Red and White armies battling for control of Russia after the era of the Tzars. Their homes and families endangered, my ancestors fled to safety in Canada. Eventually they learned English, though the punchlines of jokes were usually in German, much to the chagrin of my third-generation cousins and me!

I suspect that most Canadians whose ancestors arrived in the first quarter of the last century (or much earlier) would say that they are also descendants of immigrants who came to Canada for the promise of good farm land, freedom, and safety for their children. Yet some of the descendants of these same immigrants now self-righteously act as though they own Canada and have the right to determine who is a “true” Canadian.

How quickly we forget our own history!

My great-grandfather came across on a boat, praying with his family to survive the long ocean crossing. He stood in a line at Pier 21 in Halifax, like thousands of others waiting to be documented, and I wonder if he got down on his hands and knees to kiss the ground once he'd scrawled his signature on the dotted line. Then he and his wife and children boarded a train that took them across the country, searched the Saskatchewan prairie for the iron stake that marked their homestead, and built a sod house before winter set in. The new immigrants had to work hard physically -- longer, harder days than many of their great-grandchildren ever will. It goes without saying that we are grateful for the Canadian birthright they worked for and handed down to us.

In a similar fashion, today's immigrant or refugee may have been driven to put his family on a boat -- belonging to a human trafficker -- because it was safer than facing terror, genocide or war where he once lived. He and his family prayed to get across the sea safely, and arrived on the other side to be herded into a truck that took them to an overcrowded refugee camp where they waited for three or four years in squalor  -- with no school for the children, no privacy, no real healthcare, and nothing to call their own but the clothes they wore. They had to scramble for money to pay foreign people to fill out reams of paperwork so they could to come to Canada, where they now have to navigate a very complex and, unfortunately, racist society. And the worst of the racists are usually nth-generation descendants of immigrants from years past.

From conversations with my immigrant friends who have come to Canada more recently, I know that they are more than willing to uphold Canada's laws and support their new country in good and bad times, to learn a new language, and to contribute their many significant talents to society while working, worrying about family members back home who might also hope to come to Canada, and helping their children to feel as though they belong here. They just want to make a good impression, to be welcomed, to have friends.

So it makes me angry when some people -- who probably don't even personally know (as friends) any of these newcomers -- decide that our new arrivals to Canada don’t deserve to be here because they’re not adapting quickly enough. The thing is, life is so different now -- in many ways that we barely even realize. While it’s true that today’s immigrants and refugees don’t have to build sod houses or plow virgin prairie, they struggle like our ancestors did to build new lives, but in a world where land, home, employment and citizenship are harder and harder to come by for lots of different reasons.

And it disturbs me to no end that some of today's nth-generation children of immigrants use the "history" of their European ancestors' military service in fighting for Canada in the World Wars as an example -- to insinuate that recently-arrived Canadians are probably terrorists from other countries who would never dream of lifting a finger to defend the Canadian lifestyle into which they and their families have been welcomed. The critics are forgetting that many of the new Canadian soldiers in the World Wars (who fled wars in their lands of origin) were conscripted. And isn't it a bit unrealistic to expect people who have fled violence for peace and security in Canada to turn around and enlist in our armed forces? Most of the Canadians-to-be that I know are just struggling to understand and fit into their adopted country’s language, culture and traditions while still treasuring their own, just as my great-grandparents did. My immigrant friends have left war, desperation, hatred and divisions behind to fully embrace their new homeland with an incredible gratitude, even as many life-long Canadians take our country for granted.

To people complaining about our newcomers I want to say: Sure, immigrants and refugees might dress differently than you and I do, but that's okay, really, it is. Their customs and traditions might seem a bit unusual at first, but everything new takes some getting used to. Their skin might not be the colour we're used to, but they're just as beautiful if you really look, and though it might be hard to understand them at first, communication will become easier with practice. And I am almost certain that anyone who lives a week in their lives or walks a hundred miles in their shoes will have nothing but respect and admiration for them, just as they respect and admire Canada for welcoming them.

Diversity means resilience and strength in nature. And diversity in our country is one of our strengths too. So while our family histories as longer-term Canadians are something that, yes, we can be proud of, they are also a reason to cut our newcomers some slack, to give them some time to settle in without facing undue criticism or racism. We need to realize that offhandedly spouting racist remarks (or copying them on social media) about not accepting people different than ourselves isn't helping anything -- rather, it's increasing bullying, prejudice, injustice, and worse, creating conditions for violence.

Instead, let's make time and opportunities to get to know more immigrants and refugees and let them share with us their goodness, kindness, generosity and friendship. And let's reciprocate! We’re better off taking a chance on each other than ignoring or denigrating potential new friends. After all, we are brothers and sisters in one human family, and in this country, we are all on our way to being Canadians together.

Monday Music Appreciation #62: Some good new bluegrass

As mentioned in my "An offer I can't refuse post," my last "official" shift at the Winspear last week introduced me to Sierra Ferrell, a talented musician from West Virginia. None of my colleagues knew a thing about her before the shift, but by the end, we were all fans. She put on a wonderful performance, and her back up band was outstanding. (Her opener, Willi Carlisle, was no slouch either!)

One of my favourite usher friends said, "I'm really getting Dolly Parton vibes here," and I told Tara how I'd been listening to a Best of Sierra Ferrell playlist on Spotify when Dolly's Coat of Many Colors started playing, and I thought, how did Dolly end up on this list? But no, it was Sierra's cover of Dolly's hit, and it was that well done.

During last week's concert, Sierra spoke openly about her personal challenges as a young participant in the music industry, the value of therapy, and how she values her relationship with God. The song below, she admitted, came out of that relationship. 

There are many things I'll miss about being a regular staff at the Winspear, but a big one is being exposed to newer musical talent that I wouldn't run into otherwise and be able to share with you. But I'll keep my ears open. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy Lighthouse by Sierra Ferrell.