Living in Moose Jaw makes me happy and I feel at peace here. My heart is broken and I’m grieving the loss of my boy, Murphy. These first days of 2023 are paradoxical. I’m reminded of what Frederich Buechner wrote about the paradox of this life in Wishful Thinking. “The grace of God means something
“Oh, hello!” An involuntary delighted whisper escapes from my lips when I catch a glimpse of the glowing almost-full moon high in the southeastern sky from the window in my den. Now it is spring, and that makes two delights first thing in the morning, and I’ve yet to take my first sip of Chai
I read a post this morning on Christy Woolum’s blog, Gathering Around the Table, called Ten Things Savimg My Life Right Now, where she shared 10 things helping her through the bleak mid-winter. Her post was in response to Anne Vogel’s post on her blog, Modern Mrs. Darcy, and invitation to others to do make
What is the gift we should bring to the world? Judith Valente, How to Be: A Monk and a Journalist Reflect on Living & Dying, Purpose & Prayer, Forgiveness & Friendship Wasn’t I taught that it’s better to give than receive? Didn’t I do my best to teach my children to appreciate the joy that comes
Faith is not science. Faith transcends logic as love transcends calculations. Faith is not statistics but a relationship with God that over time makes one wise, not certain. Scot McKnight Lord, keep me from the propensity to want to be right and certain and puffed up with knowledge. Meet me in the mystery. Teach me
I’m sitting here listening to the sweet sound of rain. RAIN! At long last! The heavy weight of fire season is still with us but with many alerts and orders being rescinded and fires being brought under control, there is an easing of the burden. Skies, though not completely smoke free, are clear enough to
Outside my kitchen window, the surprise brightness of a crescent moon high in the east gives me pause in my morning coffee making routine, and I whisper an involuntary “oh!”. Later, with my hands wrapped around a warm mug, I stand at the living room window and look to the east to see what kind
For a time I watched the moon. Rising, as is my practice, in the wee hours, I stood at the window on a succession of days when the night sky was clear, and grounded myself in its movement and crescent shape that was thinner every day. The cacophony of the world at large, silent. The
The little electric stove in the corner of the room hums (and makes a disconcerting noise that has me wondering if it’s nearing the end of its lifespan) and Murphy, my constant companion, is tucked in his crate watching every move I make. A fading bunch of grocery store flowers is on the table next
In the sweet stillness of early morning I light a candle. There’s nothing special about a bit of white wax and a wick in a small glass container but as the flame flickers it casts a glow where I need one. Come . . . There’s nothing magical about it; it is the hope candle because
My favourite coffee shop is closed. It’s a small shop attached to a bookstore—both, part of large chains. I’ve spent hours over the years there visiting with friends or buying coffee and browsing in the adjoining bookstore. A lifetime ago, I used to stop and get coffee early in the morning on my way to