New Year's Letter 2023

Sacred Bond by James Neafsey,
a favourite image of mine
that can be found if you click here.

Happy New Year, friends far and near!

Hope you’ve had a Christmas break blessed with the presence of family and friends. We’re back from Christmas with Lee's Dad in Lethbridge, just celebrated Ukrainian Christmas with my family here, and as usual, I’m late with my greetings! How did 2022 treat you? Here are a few highlights for us:

January – Volunteering Sunday mornings at the Community of Emmanuel's worship services and reopening to allow people to actually come in after a long Covid stretch of handing coffee and lunch bags out the door to folks on the streets. Finishing basement suite renovations where our nephew, Iain, is staying as he completes his engineering degree.

February – Hanging out with my sisters and watching Hallmark movies as mental health required. Hiking and walking with friends. Holding small, masked rallies to support health care workers, and mostly avoiding convoys with Christina, Landon, and friends.  

March -- Returning to work (masked) at the Francis Winspear Centre for Music (my dream job!) two years and eight days after my last 2020 shift when Covid began. 

April – Warmer weather and walking to a local coffee shop with Suzanna (who recently moved back home -- rent is cheaper here). Helping Pastor Quinn save a life with Naloxone/Narcan. Lee feeling happy that the Hydrogen Centre of Excellence he worked on for the previous year was announced and is underway.

May – Working with Lee to convert more of our lawn to garden and sharing the remainder of a huge load of free wood chips with family and friends. More of that coming in 2023. Gardening experiment this year was growing asparagus from seed (we should get to eat some in two years if we're lucky). 

June – Taking Lee's 90-year-old Dad on a trip down memory lane (to Vancouver Island and back) with brother-in-law, Les, and enjoying visits with relatives there. Lee happily transitioning to full-time at Innotech Alberta after a 16-month secondment there from the Government of Alberta.

July – Growing a pretty good garden (and almost too many tomatoes). Taking Suzanna and Jay to see “Hamilton.”  Giving our pear tree a serious haircut (took three Saturdays) to try to save it from fire blight (fingers still crossed).   Having the Pope living 2 blocks away (holy security, Batman!)

August – Golfing with my folks and sisters at Spur Valley, BC, and canoeing with Mom from Invermere to Radium. Saying goodbye to Auntie Mary, my other godmother, and seeing Prediger and Stang cousins at the celebrations of her life in Alberta and Saskatchewan. 

September – Celebrating Christina's 9-year Bachelor of Arts degree. Singing Taizé music in person again. Attending an International Healing of Memories workshop and meeting some people I will never forget. Good autumn dog walks with Shadow, who is 10 and slowing down.

October – Meeting some of the many kind and generous people who provide 200 bagged lunches every Sunday of the year for Inner City Pastoral Ministry. Receiving Murchie's Tea deliveries from the coast after Jay's trips there (thanks Jay!)  

November – Getting the garden under wraps just an hour before the snow came (many thanks to Lee’s brother, Louis!) Flying to Vancouver Island (aka Hallmark Christmas movie land) to catch up on the missing pieces of the past three years with my best friend, Cathy (amazing how much never gets said on the phone!)

December – Succeeding in finding a condo home for Lee’s youngest sibling, Lynn (move-in date mid-January, we hope).  A much-needed spiritual retreat with Ron Rolheiser. Hearing amazing Christmas concerts at the Winspear and enjoying friendships that have developed there. Celebrating with family.

It's hard to imagine the highlights coming in 2023. Completion of Landon's Master's degree in Community Engagement, for sure. Retirement for Lee? I’ll believe it when I see it. 

A visit from friends far and near would definitely be a highlight -- you're always welcome at our kitchen/picnic table. And if Edmonton is too far to come but you feel like connecting in a different way, my writings here at www.simplemoodlings.blogspot.com can drop into your inbox occasionally if you put your email address in the box on the right sidebar (where the words “Get Simple Moodlings by Email (easy peasy)” appear).

In the meantime, we wish you and yours a wonderful New Year. May you be blessed with good health, happiness, and just enough that you can share with those in need.

Hugs, and peace on earth to people of good will!

Hey, you missed a few!

It's been a busy Advent this year, making it hard to get to moodling here. But I have a sweet story that I've been thinking about all week.

Last Sunday, the 3rd Sunday of Advent, two fellows I had never seen before joined us for Sunday morning liturgy at the Community of Emmanuel. Or maybe I had seen them before, but many of our community are irregular in attendance, coming and going depending on their circumstances.

These two came in last minute and sat toward the back of the room, chatting with each other, clearly friends who were happy to come in from the cold and have a cup of coffee together. I wasn't really aware of them at first, busy as I was greeting people, singing the Magnificat to the tune of Wild Mountain Thyme, and supporting Farley in his music ministry during our weekly service.

It wasn't until we were into the Eucharistic Prayers that one of the fellows decided that something was wrong with the Advent Wreath and its three lit candles. In his assessment, the fourth candle and the white Christmas candle in the middle had gone out and needed to be relit. The two buddies conferred and one came forward as Quinn was praying, took the rose Advent candle, and lit the two remaining candles. Satisfied that he'd made things right, he turned around and headed back to his seat. He didn't see Quinn promptly blow out the two he'd lit.

When the candle-lighter got back to his seat, he looked back toward his handiwork and did a double take -- there were still only three candles lit. Huh? He looked bewildered. But his buddy waved him on to go make things right, so he got up and tried a second time. He picked up the rose candle, lit the last purple one and was going for the white Christmas candle when Quinn reached out and gently took the rose candle from him, saying, "We don't light those two yet."

I stepped forward and whispered a quick explanation about how the Advent wreath's four candles are lit on four different Sundays leading up to Christmas, and it was only the Third Sunday so far. "Oh, my bad," the fellow replied, looking sheepish, and I said, "It's okay, you didn't know, and you were only trying to help."

Later on, I saw him and his friend outside, and we had a little conversation about the Advent Wreath and the Mother of Jesus being everyone's mom, which made him happy because he misses his own mom. I invited him to join us for the lighting of candles for the next two weeks. If he comes, I hope we can get him to light those last two candles for us. I'll be watching for him!

A blessed last week of Advent to you all!

How to give thanks

It's been at least two years since I first ran into the Haudenosaunee Thanksgiving Address in Robin Wall Kimmerer's wonderful book, Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants (Minneapolis, Minnesota: Milkweed Editions 2013, ISBN978-1-57131-356-0). The Thanksgiving Address is a wonderful expression of gratitude for all created beings in our world, a deep wisdom that is frequently voiced by Indigenous communities. 

The Thanksgiving Address is made up of the Words Before All Else -- which means that nothing should be said to start a day or a meeting of people or any kind of community event until we "join our minds as one" and give thanks for all that we have received. This little video explains it quite beautifully.

I've been thinking a lot about gratitude lately, and -- no surprise -- after a period of having forgotten about it, I find that the Haudenosaunee Thanksgiving Address has reappeared in my life all over the place in just the last few days. Just in the nick of time, as we head into the biggest season of consumption. I know better than to think it's just coincidence. 

If you have not heard of the Thanksgiving Address yet, here's a link to a beautiful website that shares it just a small piece at a time, with gorgeous art to accompany the words. I invite you to savour the Words Before All Else at whatever part of the day in which you find yourself right now, and realize the many gifts we have received, and that really, most of us are fortunate enough that we don't need to go out and buy more stuff.

All the gifts we have freely received are enough -- and they are no coincidence, either.

Movie Time!

I know, you're probably getting tired of me writing about homelessness, but I promise, this will be the last such post for a while...

Last Tuesday, I had the opportunity to see an excellent presentation at one of our local theatres. Maybe some of you did too, because I moodled about it last month. This Is Where We Live is a film by local film maker, Eric Rice, who visited people with experiences of homelessness in Edmonton's inner city. 

Eric interviewed them and came up with monologues from the stories they told -- which he took back to them so they could have the final say on what would be said. Actors were then hired to do the storytelling, and the result is an excellent and thought-provoking short film.

It will be shown on Zoom at noon MST tomorrow, and in case you're interested and available to watch at that time, the film maker has given me permission to share the link. I'm hoping to see it again myself. 

https://us06web.zoom.us/j/88223914789?pwd=UVBpdmNELzdsZU5vWGFFL3hrTkJ6dz09

For too many of us, homelessness is an issue, rather than actual people, but films like this help us to realize that losing our homes can happen to any one of us, that there's a fine line between living in warmth and security and living in a tent. All it takes is a divorce, a death, a disease, unemployment, or some other momentary or momentous misfortune -- and life changes, sometimes drastically. 

And as our temperatures plunge this week, it's time to give some thought to what we can do to help. A call or letter to local, provincial and federal ministries of housing has never been more important. As the panel discussion after the movie made clear, we need ALL levels of government working TOGETHER to solve our present social housing crisis.

I hope you'll consider checking out this film, dear readers. It's worth it.

Buy Nothing Day = Black Friday avoidance

I almost got sucked in this year. Almost. My inbox held a "Black Friday 15% off!" email from a company that I deal with on a regular basis for supplies, some of which are presently in need of replacement.

What stopped me? The words BLACK FRIDAY. To me, those words have become synonymous with the desire for too much. Excess. And now Black Friday is synonymous with my personal desire for less, not more.

Black Friday is the name of the consumer free-for-all that begins the day after American Thanksgiving, the day when many businesses offer consumers deals in an effort to move their profit margin ledgers from red into black ink for the year. And the more they make, the better they like it.

The problem is that many of the companies who use Black Friday sales strategies have bought into the idea that profits must grow year after year in spite of the fact that constant economic growth can lead to societal and environmental destruction, just like too much constant growth in the human body is known as cancer. Big corporations can offer discounts that small entrepreneurs can't hope to compete with, and the public buys in. Small businesses go bankrupt, the rich get richer, and I'm sure we've all seen coverage of Black Friday madness from the past. Now it's just moved online, and the stuff that's ordered online and rejected/returned too often ends up in our landfills.

It all breaks my heart -- this insistence on jumping from the Feast of Gratitude into the frenzy of consumerism. That's why I love Buy Nothing Day so much. It's a day to stop and reflect on all that we do have instead of all that we don't. To consider other kinds of gifts than the material ones Black Friday pushers want us to buy. To think about reducing our consumption for the sake of creation and future generations. To live simply, so that others may simply live.

I know that Christmas is coming. But this old poster from the now defunct Buy Nothing Christmas organization still makes me smile.

There are better ways to celebrate Christmas, for sure. If you want some ideas, I have many on my Simple Christmas Ideas page (click here). If I had the time, I'd revisit one a day for the next 31 days. But that ship sailed once (10 years ago, now how is that possible?), and they're still pretty relevant. Besides, I have many other things to do in the coming Advent Season that I love so much, including Simple Christmas Idea #12 for my kids.

But I'll start into it all by buying nothing on this Buy Nothing Day/Week. Join me? 

And I'll re-moodle this: 

Black Friday Prayer (2016)

How much did we pay
to see a new day?
It's a gift.

A breath of air? Free.
But we often don't see
it's a gift.

A life lived in peace,
the warmth of our beds,
the food on our table.
the roof o'er our heads.
all gift.

But 
through no fault of their own
many children have grown
to adulthood with
less than they need...
Still, some go out in haste
to add to the waste
of our earth
through insatiable greed.

Too oft we are told
"with the first one sold
the second is half price."
O God, help us see
that your best gifts are free
and settle for our given slice.

Remind us, O God,
that it's not for sale --
your beautiful creation.
It's already ours,
to be cared for and loved
and saved for the next generation.

Our sense of possession
was not your intention
because Everything is gift!

Teach us how
to remember it now 
and always.

+Amen

Angel seeks a home

When my mother-in-law was dying, she told me that she wanted me to have the angel that sat near her bedside. Knowing Angel meant something to her, I was touched. 

Angel is actually a large Christmas tree ornament with fiber-optic filaments that light up her wings in different, rotating colours. Every evening, Mom would ask someone to light "Angel", admire her multi-coloured splendor, and say her prayers. Knowing how much she appreciated Angel, I agreed to give her a home when Mom was gone.

But... Angel has lived in various corners of my home for the almost two years since Mom died, and I'm afraid she's not being appreciated here very often. I guess I'm just not a very sentimental soul when it comes to other peoples' keepsakes. Angel is much too big to sit atop the little Christmas trees that we decorate each year, and it's rare that I light her up for sheer appreciation's sake. 

So I offered Grandma's Angel to her grandchildren, but it seems no one is interested. And with our daughter moving home last weekend, the space where Angel used to sit (and gather dust) has vanished. So it's time to give Angel to someone who will truly appreciate her, perhaps as my mother-in-law did.

If you know anyone like that, or have other ideas of where Angel might be appreciated properly, please let me know!

Shadow's tenth winter

It's a marshmallow world out there, and Shadow-dog is not impressed. It's his tenth-eleventh winter already (well, he'll be ten years old at the end of January) and he's never liked snow much, being more like a cat than a dog in many ways. Cuddling is cool, cold weather is not!

Trying to get him to go for a winter walk can be a challenge, especially on grey days. And it's something of an effort, too -- first, to get him to come out of his cosy bed and make his way to the back door (liver treats sometimes help), then to get him into his boots, leash harness, and winter coat (over his cozy blue sweater). 

Then he stands there looking like he wishes he was back in the land of his ancestors (Havanese are descendants of the dogs that once belonged to Cuban royalty), and who can blame him? If I could teleport to a beach near Havana, I probably would.

Considering dog years, he's officially been a senior citizen for quite some time already, and honestly, there are days I can relate. His back end isn't as perky as it used to be when getting up off the couch, and I did something to my hip this morning while running to the bus. Ouch.

It's been quite a while since I've taken Shadow on a 5 km walk, as it's probably time to have mercy on his (probably) achy little body. But it's just not the same walking without him -- he's motivated me to get out and go for the past almost ten years. Suddenly my own walks are shorter to accommodate him. And would I go for a long walk without him? Only with a friend. Or maybe I need to start listening to Ebooks/podcasts to make solitary walks more interesting?

Shadow is less of a walking companion now, and more of a meditation buddy. He climbs out of bed to come snuggle with me every morning as I settle in for tea and prayer time. And perhaps that's actually more important at this stage... we're both getting older, moving toward the winter of life, Shadow and I. But we're still doing things together.

Thanks, I needed that!

How are you doing these days? 

Me, I've been feeling the weight of the world a bit too much.

So when my sister sent me this video this morning, I thanked her, and immediately decided to share it with you, too. Music has a way of lifting us up, and it's been too long since I've offered any here. Time to remedy that!

Have a happy day!

Let it snow?

My moodling for the past few weeks has mostly been in my head as I've been busy with the last of the garden produce and cleaning up before winter. 

The greenhouse is ready for spring, more or less...

(The last of the basil will be used in a tomato salad

for Lee's birthday supper tonight)...

Suzanna turned our big pumpkin into a wonderful

jack o'lantern...

He was baked yesterday for future soups

and Shadow's favourite --

peanut butter-pumpkin puppy treats...

The garden beds are empty

(Lee dug the carrots last weekend)...

and his brother, Louis, who is visiting,

helped me to dig and cover the last beds yesterday.

We finished at 4, and it started snowing at about 5!

And this is what I see today...

I'm grateful that the snow held off until the garden got put to bed... but I'm very concerned about all the homeless folks still living in tents in our city. Quinn and I were downtown yesterday, passing out the usual granola bars and toiletries, and the first of winterwear donations. Shelter spaces for outside folks were supposed to be ready for November 1st, but we've heard nothing yet about where our downtown friends are supposed to go.

My garden is happy under this snow, but people aren't. I've written my city councilors, but they're running out of funds. It's the province and feds who need to cough up some more support now, so Danielle, Justin, and friends will be hearing from me too... 

In the meantime, if anyone has cash donations for socks, gloves or long underwear (or some of these most-requested items) to pass along, I can get them to people who need it!

This Is Where We Live

I've been learning a lot lately about the affordable housing crisis in Canada. After the Great Wars, we had a series of governments that made investments in social and affordable housing, but since the 80s, almost nothing has been done. As a result, a lot of the subsidized housing for people living on the poverty line has become run down and less than suitable for habitation even as rental fees increase. 

Our governments throw around a lot of big numbers when it comes to talking about their investments in affordable housing, but what many people don't realize is that those are often past years' numbers on repeat, while housing needs continue to increase year by year. The rising number of homeless people on our streets is indicative of our governments' failure to actually invest in housing for those living on the margins over the last 30+ years. It seems they prefer to throw money at temporary shelters in the winter! 

What governments forget is that people with permanent roofs over their heads don't require the vast amounts of taxpayer funds that homeless folks do when it comes to shelters, mental health and addictions treatment, basic medical care, and wrap-around services.

If a society's success is based on how well it treats its most vulnerable citizens, a walk around our downtown core indicates that ours is far from successful. 

Local filmmaker Eric Rice has put together what promises to be a powerful little movie of re-enacted interviews with people living on the streets here in Edmonton. It's showing at the Garneau Theatre on the National Housing Day of Action, Tuesday, November 22 at 7 p.m. It will be followed with a panel discussion. Tickets are $10 in advance, at This-Is-Where-We-Live.eventbrite.com, with funds supporting the work of the Edmonton Coalition on Housing and Homelessness (ECOHH).

If you're in the Edmonton area, I hope to see you there. And if you want to help me promote this event, leave a comment in the box below. Thanks!

God is ecumenical

Here's a definition of ecumenical, according to Merriam-Webster:

ec·​u·​men·​i·​cal | \ ˌe-kyə-ˈme-ni-kəl  , -kyü- \

Definition of ecumenical

1a: of, relating to, or representing the whole of a body of churches

b: promoting or tending toward worldwide Christian unity or cooperation

2: worldwide or general in extent, influence, or application

Of course, if we're talking about God, who isn't just focused on Christians, definition #2 is the better choice. God is all of those #2 things!

As a cradle Catholic, I absorbed the somewhat divisive mindset that we Catholics had a direct line to God -- well, more direct than anybody else because of Jesus and all that apostolic tradition, or so we liked to think. Of course, it took a while for me to understand that all sorts of other spiritual traditions were around for millennia before Jesus, and that they also held the beauty, goodness, and truth that is God's. Faith in God is "worldwide or general in extent, influence or application," indeed.

Fortunately, I had lots of little ecumenical experiences as I grew up -- starting with having friends who weren't Catholic -- or even Christian. Each of those experiences taught me more about other versions of God's goodness, truth, and beauty, broadening my understanding. I was also fortunate to be surrounded by adults who, for the most part, weren't black and white thinkers, and didn't discourage me from learning about the faith of others, or sharing my faith with them. 

The only big problem was that my friends weren't allowed to partake fully in the meal of thanksgiving shared in my church because they hadn't converted to Catholicism. For me, this has always made very little sense, because God knows our hearts and works in each of us in different ways -- why should we all have to believe exactly the same way before sharing a eucharistic meal? At my present Sunday community, the Community of Emmanuel in the inner city, no one is turned away, and the embrace of God is real. I often walk into God's embrace with tears trickling down my cheeks. No one should ever be excluded!

When a friend invited me to help her lead Taizé prayer in Edmonton some 30 years ago, I found an ecumenical home that seemed to fit. And when I walked into the Church of Reconciliation in the Community of Taizé in June of 2014, I found myself on my knees, in tears of joy because the holiness/wholeness of the place was tangible. Even the Syrian Muslim refugees staying with the Brothers at the time prayed with us and ate of the beautiful, fresh, delicious bread of morning eucharist. I wallowed in the Spirit of ecumenism in a church that was home for everyone regardless of their belief, found deep communion in a bible study with a group of strangers whose beliefs were somewhat different than mine, and came away more ecumenical than capital C Catholic, I'm afraid.

Since then, participation in Taizé prayer has become even more meaningful to me. When Covid shut the world and our churches down in March 2020, the Community of Taizé held a prayer broadcast every night via their Facebook Page or Youtube channel, and the online community attended by the tens of thousands (me included, 83 days running). The community continues to broadcast prayer daily and weekly, a blessing for those who want to pray in that beautiful place but can't visit in person.

Faith is faith, and God loves it in all of us. If you are ecumenically inclined and live in the Edmonton area, I invite you to come and pray one Sunday evening per month with our local Taizé community (see poster below). All are welcome. Bring friends!

Ukraine in our hearts and souls

News from Ukraine is, too often, heartbreaking. I cheered when the Kerch Strait Bridge in Crimea was put out of commission (a prayer for the brave truck driver...) but realized retaliation was coming too. And the reaction of the perpetrators of this war has been to create further devastation, though the people of Ukraine continue to stand as strong as they can under the barrage. All we can hope and pray for seems to be a miraculous change of heart for the perpetrators, and continuing blessings and courage for the people of Ukraine as they live through hell on earth.

I'm sure we all know people who are affected by this, who have loved ones in Ukraine to worry about. So when I received an email from Irena asking me to promote a concert in support of Ukraine, I decided to share the information here, and wherever else I can. As Irena noted, the guardian angels of the Ukrainian people must be exhausted, so a little prayer, love, and fundraising here is something we can do to keep Ukraine and its people in our hearts and souls...

I leave you with a video that Irena sent of a song/prayer that will be sung at the October 29th concert, "A Ukrainian Prayer" by John Rutter. Powerful music that I hope to hear in person... maybe I'll see you there.

Giving thanks

Yesterday at Community of Emmanuel, during our Sunday Thanksgiving service, I was suddenly struck by the strongest sense of gratitude for the community's presence in my life. 

For the blessing of a sage smudge to start the service.

For Jake, who shares small snippets from his life -- this week, his frustration at having to buy a construction safety hat for a job that only lasted a day and only paid three hours.

For Mary-Joy, whose well-worn bible is a constant presence -- and reference.

For Bruce, who brings coffee to Lydia, one of our 90+ year old matriarchs, when he gets his own tea.

For Sister Florence, whose gentle, listening presence and smile is a calming influence for our community.

For Henry, who sometimes falls asleep on the counter where he sits.

For Annie, coffee-maker extraordinaire, who knows everyone and watches out for us all.

For Mary-Lou, who has more go than the energizer bunny when it comes to serving coffee.

For Farley, his philosophical wisdom and soothing music.

For Michelle, whose Standing Stones services and sharing of Indigenous wisdom always have me nodding my head in affirmation of teachings older than Christianity.

For Jim, who keeps an eye on the front door in case of latecomers or people in need.

For Quinn and his un-wordy liturgies that collect all our prayers simply and beautifully.

For simple communion, offered to all, no questions asked.

For volunteers who help us pass out the second communion of coffee and lunch bags after the service.

In looking around and appreciating all these folks, I got choked up and lost my voice for the last couple of lines to the hymn that closed the service:

I will go Lord, if you lead me. I will hold your people in my heart.

There is so much to be thankful for in my life -- my parents, sisters, husband, kids, friends, my dream job at the Winspear Centre for music (Friday night's performance was incredible!), our garden, our home, good health, the list goes on.

But in struggling with the church of my childhood and its exclusivity over the last few years, I was deeply moved by the people of the Community of Emmanuel at the end of Sunday's service, and deeply grateful for how Creator led me to this place that has welcomed me so deeply. 

Thank you, God, for everything.

+Amen

P.S. What are you grateful for today?

A bit of irresistible Francis lore

If you've been around these moodlings for any length of time, you'll know I have a special appreciation for St. Francis of Assisi, whose feast day we celebrate today. He's the patron saint of animals, simplicity, and ecology, and the founder of the Franciscan community that some of my favourite people are part of. 

Looking back over 12 years of Simple Moodlings (yup, I missed another Moodle-versary on September 19th, oh well), I see frequent mentions of St. Francis among them, too many to list here.

But I can't resist re-moodling this link to my favourite bit of St. Francis lore (I wish I was the genius who wrote it) -- God and St. Francis talk about lawns.

And I'll leave you all with a simple prayer that I think he would have liked. St. Francis addressed Brother Sun and Sister Moon like ordinary people, and I suspect he would have spoken to Father Sky and Mother Earth, too, and resonated with Indigenous spirituality as a whole.

We prayed this prayer at our Standing Stones service at Community of Emmanuel this past Sunday, a simple prayer that includes sky, earth, and the four directions. It's a wonderful way to wrap up the Month of Creation:

O Father Sky,

Hear us and make us strong.

O Mother Earth,

Hear us and give us support.

O Spirit of the East,

Send us your wisdom.

O Spirit of the South,

May we tread your path of life.

O Spirit of the West,

May we always be ready for the long journey.

O Spirit of the North,

Purify us with your cleansing winds.

Hiy Hiy, Amen.

A day to mourn, a day to learn

Today is the second annual National Day of Truth and Reconciliation. How are you marking the day?

I put on my orange shirt and intended to go downtown and seek out some of the events planned by different groups, but changed my mind when I realized that there are a few time-sensitive things at home that I can't put off. I was feeling a bit guilty about that until I heard a piece on the radio about some young Indigenous artists and how they were planning to spend today.

One said that she was going to stay home and spend it in quiet mourning for all the wrongs done to her people, and to work on projects that connect her to her culture. "It's not a day of celebration for me," she said. "It's a day to remember."

Hearing that, I thought that perhaps it might be better to have a quiet day as I go about my tasks, listening to music by Indigenous artists, thinking about my friends who are from various First Nations communities, praying for healing for all who are hurting as memories surface today. And perhaps later I'll reread the 95 Calls to Action from the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, which can be found here, and look for a good book to read so I can learn more about the work settlers like me need to do toward making amends for our colonial past. If you have any books to recommend, please leave a comment below...

How are you marking today?

I leave you with a powerful music video by Digging Roots called The Healer, and pray their refrain, no more, no more struggling, no more, no more suffering, can become our mantra as we find ways to live in Truth and Reconciliation as people of Turtle Island...

Jake's gift

One Sunday morning in March at the community of Emmanuel, Jake flashed a big smile at me from across the room. This was before I even knew his name. So I walked over and introduced myself, and he smiled that big smile again and said, "My name is Jake, and I need someone to pay attention to me."

I laughed and said, "I'm all ears." Jake proceeded to tell me that he was spending a lot of time in the Maker Space at our downtown library, learning about digital printing. He said he had been spending hours and hours working on a small replica of a farm windmill, and he was quite fascinated with the process of using computer code to generate it. I told him that was really a cool thing to learn.

Two weeks later, he brought the windmill to show me. It was printed in an off-white plastic medium, and I told Jake that I was impressed, as my own knowledge of computers is fairly limited.

A few weeks later, I was chatting with the regulars at his usual table, and Jake said, "I'd like to make you something. How about a little planter?" I was delighted, and told Jake that would be really something, as no one has ever made me anything with a digital printer.

Three Sundays later, Jake approached me and said, almost sheepishly, "I finished your present. Unfortunately, the Library won't give it to me unless I pay them nine dollars and ninety cents for the materials." As luck would have it, I had slipped a ten dollar bill into my back pocket that morning for another reason, but I pulled it out and handed it to Jake. "I can't wait to see it," I said. "I bet it's awesome."

And it is... the next Sunday, Jake brought me a little planter pictured above with the receipt for $9.90 from the downtown branch of the Edmonton public library. I fussed over how cute and Escher-esque it is, and he said, "And see here? this little trough on the side lets excess water run out if you overwater your plants." He was delighted to give it to me, and I was every bit as delighted to receive it.

When I got home, I puzzled over what to plant in it, and remembered some microgreen seeds in my kitchen cupboard. I planted them, and the next Sunday, I took the planter back to show Jake that it works. We set it on the altar so everyone could see the results of Jake's creativity, and he was quite proud in his humble way.

Last night for supper, I made a lovely deli-style sandwich with some yummy little microgreens on top.

Thanks, Jake!

When ONE is too many

The City of Edmonton's annual homeless count is today. Volunteers endeavor to find and count the homeless people in our city, and I always wonder how accurate their count is. Not very, I suspect.

Yesterday, I drove Lee to his place of work in the Research Park not far from the Anthony Henday ring road, and took Shadow-dog for a walk around the area. It's a lovely area with a couple of ponds and many well-placed trees, not far from South Edmonton Common, a major shopping centre. 

So I wasn't too surprised when I discovered a man with a shopping cart living among the trees in an unused corner of a parking lot. I'm guessing his chance of being counted today is pretty much nil.

The Edmonton Coalition on Housing and Homelessness (ECOHH) sent other volunteers out today with a handbill containing some of the info you'll read below. ECOHH wants to raise awareness of the fact that a count of the homeless population doesn't really do much to solve anything. However, the handbill did manage to shock a group of teenagers when they read that 222 people died on Edmonton's streets in 2021, compared to 132 in 2020. It's clear that serious issues for homeless people are increasing.

It's one thing to gather statistics on how many people are homeless, and another to solve the lack of non-market affordable housing. Homeward Trust, a local social service organization that has a program called Housing First, notes on its website homepage that 2,671 people are currently experiencing homelessness. Of them, 56% identify as Indigenous, 45% as female, and 18% as youth.

In a wealthy province and country called Alberta, Canada, even ONE homeless person is too many.

Even more shocking, it's estimated that more than a quarter million people in our country will experience homelessness at some point this year.

Edmonton City Council is doing what it can, but the real problem is that provincial and federal funding for affordable housing and support services has been completely inadequate since the 1980s. Adequate housing is a human right, one the 2,671 people known to Homeward Trust lack. And that number doesn't begin to address the tens of thousands of people who are living in unsafe, unhealthy, inadequate, or too expensive places, people who are in danger of becoming homeless themselves for any number of reasons.

So what do we do? For the moment, we can write Premier Jason Kenney (premier@gov.ab.ca) and Prime Minister Justin Trudeau (justin.trudeau@parl.gc.ca) and tell them it's past time to invest in actually building desperately needed housing. They need to be reminded that it has been proven, time and again, that giving people a roof over their heads is more fiscally responsible than leaving them to fend for themselves on the streets. Otherwise, governments end up investing more taxpayer funds to care for homeless people than investments in housing and wrap-around care require.

Even one homeless person is too many. Especially when you come upon one who seems to be dying on the sidewalk before your eyes, as I did on Sunday morning.

If you are able, please click those email addresses and write to ask that federal and provincial governments invest in affordable housing and wrap-around care. If you're not from Alberta, it's easy to computer search your own politicians. 

It's time to #endhomelessnessyeg. And everywhere else, too.

December 5, 2021
There's a much longer line of tents now...

Care for a Courageous Conversation?

This week I had the opportunity to attend a Healing of Memories International workshop led by Father Michael Lapsley, an amazing man who knows a lot about pain and healing. It was a rich experience -- an opportunity to share in the sorrows and struggles we all face as human beings and take a step forward in my own journey. We can tend to minimize our own pain when faced with horrific tragedies like the one recently experienced by brothers and sisters from James Smith Cree Nation who attended this week's workshop. But we all learned that pain is pain, and healing is possible when we are able to face it and eventually let it go. Of course, that is the work of a lifetime.

Please don't forget to keep James Smith Cree Nation, Weldon, and their community members both in and out of hospital in your prayers as they continue on the road to healing.

Father Lapsley is here for a few more days, and will lead a special event tomorrow evening at St. Faith's Anglican Church (11725 93 Street) from 6-9 pm here in Edmonton. Edmonton and area friends truly interested in healing, truth, and reconciliation, please consider coming. Father Michael's work in South Africa and around the world can help us here on Turtle Island... recent events show us how much healing is needed in our world and in the lives of all who live in this land.

All are welcome.

Raise a song of gladness

The resurrection icon
we will pray with on Sunday

When Covid-19 shut the world down back in March of 2020, I wondered how long it would be until our Ecumenical Prayer evenings of scripture, silence, and the songs of Taize would start up again. 

Throughout these 30 months, I have missed the consolation of singing and praying with musicians and friends of different denominations, though I did my best to keep prayer going online. Of course, praying alone, even when you know other people are praying along in their own spaces, just isn't the same. Especially when it comes to raising our voices to God together.

It's been a long two-and-a-half years of being separated, but this Sunday, September 18th, we are gathering to pray in person with the group of musicians and the music I have missed so much. It's a resurrection, of sorts! And all are welcome to join us!

As health officials keep reminding us, the pandemic is not yet over, so it's recommended to wear a mask whenever we're indoors or in close proximity to people outside our immediate circles. I will be doing that as I don't think I've had the virus yet, and my life with diabetes means I still don't want to run the risk. It's up to each person to decide for themselves how they are most comfortable participating.

We will return to raising songs of gladness and prayer on this coming Sunday evening, September 20, from 7 to 8 pm at St. Thomas D'Aquin church, 8410 89 Street, which happens to be the place where we held our last prayer evening on March 8, 2020. I hope you can join us if you're in the area. We will be praying for the good of all of creation, as we are smack dab in the middle of the month of Creation.

Raise a song of gladness, peoples of the earth... Jubilate Deo omnes terra!

Simple Suggestion #286... Save seeds

I can't believe I've gotten this far into these Simple Suggestions without moodling about seed-saving. Though I do love the seed catalogues that come every January, even better is planting the seeds I've saved myself because they cost me -- and the planet -- nothing. They don't have to be shipped across the country, and they're guaranteed organic when they come from my own backyard.

To me, it's just fascinating how life perpetuates itself on this planet, and how many different ways plants have of presenting their seeds to the earth. In my experience, the only things needed to save seeds are curiosity, a willingness to wait for them to mature, and a way to dry them well.

Granted, there are many different methods of saving seeds, some of which involve all sorts of chemical processes and fungicides. But the thing to remember is that our ancestors didn't have hi-tech ways to save their seeds from year to year. They simply dried and saved what they had, perhaps supplementing their caches by trading with neighbours.

So here are the seeds I'm saving this year:

14 different varieties of tomatoes.
I just spread the seeds on labelled paper napkins,
dry them, and pull them off the paper to plant next spring.

Five varieties of pepper seeds,
taken from the insides of this year's peppers.
Peaches and cream corn seed, 
dried on the last cob of the season.

Purple, yellow and green bush beans,
purple peacock and scarlet runner pole beans.

Snow peas (above) and snap peas (already put away).

Purple and white onions.

These seed pods are so cool!

Garlic cloves, and tiny onion bulbs
that barely got started this year
but will be full grown onions next year, hopefully!
I'll plant my garlic from this year's cloves in the next few weeks.
 

There are lots of other seeds yet to come -- pumpkins and squashes, cucumbers, sunflowers and annual flower varieties. About the only seed I've had a hard time saving is carrot and some of the other root crops, and I wonder if that's because the varieties I grow are hybridized beyond the ability to produce seed in the usual way, or if our season isn't quite long enough for the seed to mature here. I keep trying -- there are a couple of Chantenay carrot seed heads out in the garden that I hope to dry and try again next year. I guess we'll see!

The real trick with seed saving is to ensure that seeds are viable so that we don't miss out on the early part of next year's growing season because things refuse to sprout. I like to check my seeds in the spring by soaking them overnight and seeing if they'll start to show signs of life between paper towel kept damp and dark under plastic. (That's what paper towel gets used for in this house -- otherwise we use regular rags). I also like to store my seeds in the charity return envelopes that come in the mail since most of our charitable giving is now done online.

There's nothing like growing your own food... but even better is growing your own from seed you've saved yourself! If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask! That's what the comment section below is for.

Looking for more Simple Suggestions? Click here.

We're all a little lost

Somehow I forgot to hit the publish button. This moodling was actually written on September 11th.

Today's reflection is brought to you by 
Luke 15: 1-32.

This morning's Gospel reading of Jesus' stories about the lost sheep, the lost coin and the lost son is a beautiful message for us in light of the past week's events. Or any week's events, for that matter.

What it boils down to is that we're all a little lost. We think we know what we're about, and we like to project a certain level of self assurance, but it doesn't take much for us to get turned around, like the little lamb or the woman whose coin goes missing.

The loss of a relationship, a death in the family, a missed opportunity, even just a misplaced cell phone, and life goes off the rails to varying degrees (cell phones are minor issues, mostly). Some events leave much bigger holes in our lives and souls than others.

But God knows us, and knows what we need at every given moment, because God is always with us. God is embracing us in the midst of divorce, death, unemployment, addictions, mental health crises, you name it. The Comforter in all our losses, if only we reach for that comfort, especially when we go astray. And as Pastor Quinn pointed out, the fact that we can sometimes laugh or smile in the midst of disasters is a sign of God's presence. God is in our sense of humour! 

God meets us in our lost moments, and waits for an invitation to celebrate with us once we find our way again. Grace is always there, waiting, to embrace us in whatever way we need.

These are the things we celebrated at Inner City Pastoral Ministry this morning. Today was a sad and quiet morning of mourning with James Smith Cree Nation, with Dorothy, who lost her older brother, and with remembering Brian, who was murdered in Tuesday's stabbing rampage here in the city. We are not the Community of Emmanuel for nothing. God-is-with-us even in these hard, hard things that make the tears run down our cheeks. And also in the smiles and jokes with which we often say farewell for another week.

Farley closed the service by singing Gretchen Peters' song, Say Grace, which was a truly perfect choice (God inspires Farley regularly). I leave it with you, and wish you a week of knowing you are found, and always welcomed back with open arms.

The most recent suffering

Last night I listened to the voices of the parents of the young man who killed 11 people on James Smith Cree Nation, and cried along with them.

It's a parent's deepest suffering to lose a beloved child, never mind two children.

And to have to watch as children make choices that lead to destruction not only for themselves, but for others too, is gut-wrenching. You could hear it in the apologies and sobs of Myles and Damien's parents.

A friend of mine tells me that he has reached "saturation point" with all these Indigenous issues, and wonders what happened that sets their suffering on a higher rung of the existential ladder than anyone else's. Suffering is universal, he says, so how is theirs worse? 

It's a mindset that's easy to fall into if we live in a world of white privilege. 

While it's true that we all have our heartaches and sorrows because suffering is universal, what makes the trauma of Indigenous peoples so much worse is that they have been treated as less than human and ignored for generations by settler peoples (our ancestors included) who, knowingly or unknowingly, saw Indigenous lands and livelihoods as free for the taking. 

It's centuries -- not weeks or months or years of injustice -- that has led to the gangs, drugs, addictions, and violence that took 12 people down, including two sons of the couple whose hearts are forever broken. 

Our hearts need to break with theirs before we can really understand and true healing can begin. 

If suffering is universal, I pray that healing can be, too.

The waning of the garden

It's that time of year again, when the sun disappears earlier and earlier (8:10 this evening, and it was 8:30 just last week!!) Summer's heat has let go for cooler evenings, and though the plants started dying-back in August, yellow leaves in my veggie patch are becoming more pronounced. Our 4000 L water tank has emptied out during the past very dry month, we've pulled all the peas and beans and dug their beds, and I'm up to my ears in tomatoes and other veggies that need to be canned or frozen. God's abundance is in evidence everywhere I look.

Even so, the garden is on the wane, and it's time for my last garden video report of 2022. Anybody need a cabbage?

Sunday Reflection: New words for an old prayer

Today's reflection is brought to you by

Matthew 6:9-13. 

I like that Jesus taught his disciples -- and us -- how to talk to God (pray) in the gospels. But I wonder what words he might choose in this day and age. After all, the translation of his Aramaic over the centuries, and the more recent human shift in understanding God as more than male or female both leave me wishing he'd show up and offer us new words for his prayer. 

Not that I have problems with God as Father, but I like God as Mother, Lover, Tender, and many other descriptions as well. What Would Jesus Do?

I've already posted a newer version of the Creed from my first experience at ICPM some years ago, and now I'd like to share a version of Jesus' prayer that I think he would like, one that applies to us all no matter how we believe. It's written by Miriam Therese Winter, a Medical Mission Sister (who wrote Joy is Like the Rain, which for me represents the joyful inclusion of guitars in church music). Her version of the prayer is beautiful, especially when juxtaposed with the original found in Matthew 6: 9-13:

O Holy One, who is within,                        Our Father in heaven,

we celebrate your many names.                 hallowed be your name.

Your wisdom come.                                     Your kingdom come,

Your will be done,                                       your will be done,

unfolding from the depths within us.          on earth as it is in heaven.

Each day you give us all that we need.      Give us this day our daily bread,

You remind us of our limits,                        and forgive us our debts,

and we let go.                                              as we also have forgiven our debtors.

You support us in our power,                      And lead us not into temptation,

and we act with courage.                            but deliver us from evil.                      

For you are the dwelling place within us,  For yours is the kingdom, 

the empowerment around us,                     the power, 

and the celebration among us,                   and the glory, 

now and forever.                                         now and forever.

Of course, the newer words will never hold the familiar comfort of the traditional prayer for most people, but it's a beautiful broadening of Jesus' words for modern minds. It excludes no one, reminds us that God is already more present with us than we often think, and still holds the same basic meaning: that we are meant to talk directly to God, and that God loves us and looks after us.

What more do we need?

Squash blossom special

Ricotta-stuffed blossoms

My garden is producing lots of squash and pumpkin blossoms in these summer days, so a couple of weeks ago, I decided it was time to try some for supper.

My dear friend Lidia, God rest her, taught me about squash blossoms one summer morning before covid. She asked me to go out to her garden and collect the blossoms for her. 

When I brought them in, she proceeded to remove the anthers (the yellow pollen-covered stem-like piece inside) and the calyxes (the green spiky bits on the outside bottom near the centre of each petal). 

Unfortunately, I had to disappoint her by leaving before she could serve me some for lunch, so she explained that she was going to put a spoonful of ricotta cheese inside, press it flat, dip the whole thing in beaten egg, dust it in flour, and fry it in butter with a bit of salt and pepper.

It took me three years, but now I've done it several times, and wow, the results are delicious! Who knew those flowers could have such a nice flavour?! 

Chalk it up as another simple little blessing that came from knowing my neighbour Lidia.