Posts

Becoming Aware

This Lent, instead of giving something up, I decided to pay attention. Not in the passive way—like vaguely noticing the world as it swirls by—but in the intentional, uncomfortable, deeply human way. Yes, I had to resign from my self-imposed hiatus of not following the news. Yes, I had to be more present, even when it hurt. And yes, I’ve felt a little more anxious. A little raw. A little undone. But something beautiful has happened too. I find myself slowing down—stepping off the treadmill of distraction and into the stillness of sacred noticing. I’ve started to pause. To really see. A mother clutches a tiny mitten in the grocery store line. A headline breaks my heart. A siren in the distance becomes a prayer on my lips. I stop scrolling, and I whisper names. God, be near. God, have mercy. God, I see. It turns out that paying attention is its own kind of prayer. Not the folded-hands, eyes-closed kind (though those are good too), but the sort of prayer that walks around in your body. The...

Peace, Puddles, and a Very Dirty Dog

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There’s something sacred about spring rain. Not the flash storms or the icy drizzle of late winter, but the soft, steady kind that falls like a benediction—quiet, cleansing, persistent. The kind that turns the sidewalks into mirrors and the earth into a sponge. The kind that whispers, “Slow down.” And so I do. Or at least, I try. Because one of my favourite things to do is walk my dog. She, however, has other ideas about “slowing down.” If you've met her, you know. She’s a vision—I call her a bull in a china shop. There is nothing graceful about her except her fluffy white and grey fur. People often remark about how amazingly white her fur is—until it rains. Or, more accurately, after it rains. Because then, her favourite pastime is transforming into a high-speed bull charging her way through the bushes.  After a gentle spring shower yesterday, I thought: Now it’s safe. The sun peeked out. The ground looked... well, not dry, but dry- ish . I clipped on her leash with cautious opti...

Suffering

  Lent has this way of slowing us down, pulling us toward the questions we might otherwise rush past. And this year, I find myself circling around one in particular: What do we do with suffering? Christians are called to care for those who suffer, to bind up wounds and sit in the ashes with the brokenhearted. But there’s something more to it—something that the theology of suffering asks of us. It suggests that we cannot truly walk alongside those in pain unless we have known pain ourselves. It’s not just an intellectual exercise. It’s lived. Now, let’s be clear: I do not believe that God causes suffering. And most who study the theology of suffering would agree. God is good. All the time. He is not in the business of dealing with pain like some divine bureaucrat. God is the very definition of goodness, incapable of anything less than love. But—and here’s the part that’s harder to swallow—God does not always take suffering away. Instead, God makes a way through it. He is present in ...

Sanctuary

The summer I was 12 was strange. My parents had both started new jobs, so our typical summer living in the tiny Boler was off the table. There was no vacation time. My sister and I were stuck at home. We spent our days sleeping in, riding our bikes to get slushies at the Mac store, and watching   Days of Our Lives . Our monotonous summer quickly became exciting as we immersed ourselves in the saga. Kayla, who was deaf at the time due to a mysterious illness, was kidnapped by Harper Deveraux and held captive in a secret room. Steve and his brother Jack Deveraux tried desperately to rescue her. Eve, a former teenage prostitute, continued to struggle with her complicated life, while Bo and Hope were still dealing with various romantic and adventure-driven challenges, as they were one of the show's prominent super couples at the time. The storyline was constantly evolving; nothing was off the table or too far-fetched. This past week feels reminiscent of th...

Preparing for Lent

 As we approach Lent, I look forward to our annual Shrove Tuesday pancake supper. However, as a minister, the season often weighs heavily on me. I feel it is time for me to pray much more, give up some of the comforts in life, and take on more tasks to show the world that I take Lent seriously. It is a time when I should be demonstrating to others that I truly feel the weight of Jesus’ suffering. Yes, we have often been taught that we should give up chocolate or coffee as an act of piety or suffering.  While this practice served a purpose in the past, it’s time for a revaluation. The Church has shifted its focus from promoting self-denial to positive actions. Yet even this can miss the mark, often adding more to our already busy calendars and unintentionally leading to self-righteousness. Let this not be a time for boasting and bragging.  So, let’s do something radically different this year.  Instead of focusing on what we should give up, let's focus o...

Reflecting

Last week, I attended the Chinook Winds Regional Clergy Retreat. Despite my initial lousy attitude, thinking it was just another obligation I didn't have time for, it was an excellent opportunity to rest, reflect, and play.  Part of the retreat was to meditate on our calling. Why were called to ministry? Of course, I could tell you right away, as an ordained ministry, that I was called to Word, Sacraments and Pastoral Care. But that is the general call. Why did God call me to be a minister?  There is no easy answer.  Modern-day ministry doesn't look much like it did 50 years ago. The primary task of a minister 50 years ago was preaching and making congregational visits. Today, ministers are tasked with preaching, pastoral care, administrative duties, visioning, overseeing the building, support committees, finding volunteers, stewardship, church growth and more.  The problem is I am not called to all of these tasks. While I am good at budgeting, I am not a firm a...

How Would Jesus Respond to the Chaos in the World Today?

Many of us may feel overwhelmed by the challenges posed by Trump and his team of billionaires, as well as certain economic issues in Canada and various global concerns. However, this current situation provides Christians an opportunity to express their authentic voices and emerge as a powerful force for good.  Here are some solutions, revised from a recent Broadview Magazine article*, on how Jesus might respond to the world today. 1. Be Bold.  Last week, in a touching inaugural prayer service, Rt. Rev. Mariann Budde, the Episcopal bishop of Washington, D.C., reached out to Trump, encouraging him to show compassion for those affected by his policies. This courageous action speaks volumes and will certainly make an impact. For us in faith communities, it reminds us of the importance of engaging with our politicians and advocating for our values. Let’s unite with our friends from various denominations and faiths, as the time when a single church can affect change alone is over!...