Lent again, sigh

Remember the beginning of Lent last year? When we received ashes on our foreheads instead of having them sprinkled on the crown of our head like this year? Lent began, as it usually does, before the pandemic, and then it went on, and on, and on... as a friend said, The Longest Lent Ever!

In many ways, to me it feels like Lent never ended. In the past, I've spent my Lents fasting from certain things so as to appreciate their Creator more, and to remind myself to be more grateful for the many blessings in my life. But the pandemic means that the thing I value most, being close to family and friends, is replaced by staying away from them indefinitely. Even with the vaccine coming, it still feels like it's going to be a long wait.

So this year, I feel like a two-year-old ready to throw a tantrum. "What, You expect me to do another Forty Days, as if these 344 days of pandemic weren't enough? I don't wanna! Waaaaahhh!"

But then my sad little heart gets up off the floor and says, "Well, okay, Holy Spirit, I guess I can continue with your plan at this time. I can continue to fast from being with the people I love for the sake of the health and well-being of my community. I can spend a bit more time in prayer, fast from a few daily things that I know I've been taking for granted. I can creatively give the alms of my time, talent and treasure by reaching out to those who need the support I can offer from the abundance with which you have blessed me."

And I know that, in the giving of myself, my sad little heart focuses less on its losses and more on the joy it can bring to others. In not taking things for granted, I savour their goodness more. And in spending more time in prayer, my heart shifts from preoccupation with my petty concerns to a deep desire to rest in the heart of the Creator who sustains us all, and to follow the Holy Spirit's inspirations to do her and his will.

And in doing those things, my sad little heart becomes a joyful little heart set on serving others and making Lent worth living, even in pandemic times.

What's the good word for 2021?

Happy New Year! Those who have been following these moodlings for a while probably remember that every New Year, rather than making a bunch of New Year's Resolutions, I choose a word to focus on for the 365 days ahead. 

I have to chuckle a little when I look back at the word for 2020. One year ago, I picked the word COMMUNITY, because certain struggles and challenges in 2019 made me withdraw too much from some of the people I love, and I needed to reach out and include them more fully in my life rather than quietly indulging in my own pity party. I also wrote that

if we want to continue as a human race, we need to put our divisions behind us and become COMMUNITY when it comes to world peace, caring for our environment, eliminating poverty, working for the rights of the marginalized, and the list goes on... There are so many issues that have to be tackled by good people who care, and though we all have different pet concerns, perhaps we can agree that the common good of ALL, no matter the stripe, is what we need to work toward. Because really, our divisions are just our fears being given too much credit.

Dog walking view, January 2, 2021

I launched myself into 2020 with optimism and the desire to connect with others. I set up a full schedule for ecumenical prayer in different churches in the city, put together some lovely recipes for baking with my friends at L'Arche, and found a wonderful job with some marvelous people involving a lot of really great music (one of my passions). But after only 8 shifts at the Winspear Centre for Music, COVID shut everything down. Concerts, baking, ecumenical prayer. Everything except my daily dog-walking routine, a community of me and Shadow-dog! (Thank heavens for my husband and daughter being here, too, or I probably wouldn't be laughing at my 2020 choice for word of the year. They were a pretty great little community, most days!)

Community has also been something a lot of us find at a certain physical distance or online if we are fortunate. After the initial lockdown was eased somewhat, in person opportunities (with masks) became a possibility. I managed to join the Sunday Community of Emmanuel at the Bissell Centre, and felt like I had come home in so many ways, even though physical distancing and COVID protocols (taking temperatures, hand sanitizing, providing bagged snacks instead of lunch, masking, and wiping everything down with bleach) were in play... until November/December, when case numbers took off and doors closed again.

I suppose I could try a do over with COMMUNITY as the word of the year. But in this time where we must stay apart for the sake of our health system and the vulnerable people in our midst, I've decided that instead of physically distanced community, I want to use 2021 to focus simply on UNITY, especially after the storming of the Capitol Building in Washington DC yesterday.

In my understanding, UNITY doesn't mean that we all need to think the same, act the same, love the same, have the same skin tone, believe in God the same, or hold the same political views. Rather, it means that we are conscious that, although there are many things we disagree on, we can work together for the good of all. Unity asks us to set down our hurt and anger and outrage and try to understand others in a way that invites them to work with us toward the beauty, goodness, and truth that we are all created equal, and the reality that really, we are all one family that needs to come together, not just for our own personal good, but for the good of our earth, especially post-COVID, whenever that time comes.

So my word of 2021, my meditation mantra, is UNITY. In my morning prayer, I am asking God of many names to unite our hearts daily. And I hereby vow to unite with others who desire to make the world a better place in whatever way I can. Maybe by writing letters. Signing petitions. Telling jokes. Smiling at other dog-walkers from that physical distance. Participating in Zoom meetings. Planning for a positive future even in the midst of this strange time. Wearing my mask for the sake of the vulnerable. You get the drift.

What's your word of the year?

Simple Suggestion #239... Get to know an immigrant or refugee

The Syrian refugee crisis finally hit home this week for some of us. The picture of a little child washed up on a beach woke many people up. The outrage and tears over the photo are all over the internet and TV. But have our hearts really changed?

The world has always known immigrants and refugees. Because of war, disaster and climate change, it always will. But until we know these people as our brothers and sisters, until we recognize that their children are our children, until we understand that we are all one and that what affects one affects all, pictures will come and go, outrage and tears will wax and wane. We have to make their troubles personal. But how?

My Burundian sister, Alice, opened my eyes to the horrors of the genocide more than any book or movie ever could. Her story of fleeing with her 8-month-old son from killers who spilled into Burundi from Rwanda opened my eyes to the suffering of refugees. I am often afraid to ask for updates from my Syrian sisters, Rima and Maria, because I know that some of their family members are still in danger. But fear is no excuse -- it's more important to offer a hand in friendship, and to find out if there is anything I can do to help them in their efforts to bring their families and friends to Canada. Today I wrote a letter to my Prime Minister, Member of Parliament, and the Minister of Citizenship and Immigration asking for an opening of Canada's borders to allow more refugees now, before the October election (!), and for the cutting of red tape preventing groups ready to support our brothers and sisters who are looking for lives far from war and persecution. There are many church groups and individuals just waiting to help, and they need us now.

But today's actual challenge is to notice those around us who have come from other places, to open our hearts to their stories, and to abandon our fears about reaching out to help in whatever ways we can. If you want to join me in writing a letter or three, that would be good, too. We need to remember that we must all sing with one voice if we are to survive this world's crises.