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 the summer of Days of Our Lives. Every time we turn around, there is more drama; nothing remains static, and everything seems chaotic. Except that this time, it’s not a soap opera; it’s real life. The political turbulence spilling over from our neighbours to the south is impossible to ignore. The endless news cycles, divisiveness, and sheer unpredictability make it hard to focus on what matters—our work, families, health, and peace of mind.

So where do we go when the world feels too loud, too overwhelming? I want to think the church offers a refuge—a place untouched by the constant noise of political spectacle. Inside those walls, we can step away from the chaos and find something steady, find some peace. Whether through prayer, community, or the simple act of sitting in silence, the church reminds us that there is something bigger than the 24-hour news cycle. It is a place to lay down our burdens, reconnect with hope, and surround ourselves with people who strive for kindness, not conflict.

But the church is not the only escape. We can also find peace in nature—walking along a quiet trail, listening to the wind move through the trees, feeling the earth steady beneath us. We can turn to books, music, and creative projects that anchor us in something real and meaningful. We can spend time with the people who make us feel grounded, friends who bring laughter, family who offer comfort, and communities that inspire us. And maybe, sometimes, we can even let ourselves get lost in a fictional world, much like I did that summer—whether it’s an old soap opera, a beloved novel, or a hobby that allows us to disconnect from the chaos and find a little bit of peace.

Because while the world may feel like a never-ending drama, we don’t have to be swept up in every plot twist. We can choose where we place our energy. We can choose sanctuary over spectacle. I think the church is even more important now than ever. 

Blessing

Rev. Kim