The Progressive Reverend

 This month, we explored the phrase “do in remembrance of me,”   As we weave through the tapestry of All Saints Day and Remembrance Day, we pause to reflect on our childhood, the sweet echoes of laughter,  And the enduring legacy of how we wish to be remembered after our days.   In the act of remembering, nostalgia washes over us,   a wave of joy mingled with the bittersweet ache of longing,   for the moments that have slipped through our fingers,   each memory is a treasure, both radiant and haunting.   Last month, I and many other United Church friends faced an unfathomable loss. A dear friend and mentor, taken far too soon.  This person had many roles in my life. She was my professor during seminary, practicum supervisor, and vocation officer when I was going through SME, and she laid her hands on me when I got ordained. She was also my friend.  I cherish those marathon classes she taught, twelve hours of shared exhaustion, laughter, ...

 As I gather my thoughts for the upcoming meditation workshop, I'm struck by my own selective appreciation of the Divine tapestry around me. Winter, I confess, has never been my favourite season.  It stings the breath from my lungs, and heavy winter jackets feel cumbersome, especially within the confines of a car. The burden of shovelling snow does little to warm my heart. Yet, each season carries its burdens and delights. In summer, I revel in endless days, windows flung wide, late-night strolls, and the fragrance of barbecues dancing in the air. The cold raindrops that kiss my skin may not charm me, but their scent—a sweet, earthy embrace—reminds me of nature's restorative grace. I delight in the vibrant green of grass kissed by rain and the kaleidoscope of autumn's hues that wrap the world in warmth. As I write this list, I remember that meditation is an invitation to connect with the Divine, where gratitude becomes our sacred practice.  Practice—being t...