* not with ink

This post has been ten years in the making. It started when I graduated from my undergrad degree, and created this blog. I had just accepted my first full-time job. I was getting ready to move across the country. I bought my first cell phone. Twitter didn't exist. Facebook was just a baby. Now here I am, in 2016, about to graduate from my Masters degree. In the intervening decade, I have: Moved across the country, and then moved back east, to the largest city in our nation.  Held four different jobs - ministry, nanny, small business, college office.  Freelanced as a photographer, and as an editor/writer. Traveled to six different countries- three each in Europe and Africa. Lived in five different homes (#6 is two weeks away!).  Dated five men, and been on many other dates. Been a bridesmaid six times.  Celebrated other weddings, births, and joys.  Walked with loved ones through illness (physical and mental), death, infidelity, and other hear...

This morning, I led a hospital ecumenical service, and gave a short message on  Luke 4:1-13  and its significance for those of us who are observing Lent.  I decided to post it here because I'm planning on sharing some Lenten poetry in the next few weeks, and I know that many of my readers are from Christian traditions that don't observe Lent, or from traditions that aren't exclusively Christian. I hope this helps set Lent into a specific context and a narrative - and I'm always happy to hear what doesn't make sense, or dialogue around any of the content. If you're unfamiliar with the temptation of Jesus in the wilderness, click on the link above so you can see what story I'm referencing! For many Christians around the world, we are now in the season of Lent. And when Christians talk about Lent, there are a few other words that are very often heard: wilderness fasting temptation preparation Each of these words is present in the Scripture story we...

On Fridays, I don't go to school. And I don't go to work. I stay home. I still have work to do, but I do it at a desk in front of a big window, with a dog sleeping beside me. I listen to music (like Great Good Fine Ok ), I might bake, and I do laundry. Loads and loads of laundry. Sometimes I nap. I hang out with my housemates (dog and husband). This afternoon, we might go see a movie. Maybe we'll bike to the Distillery. Or grab lunch somewhere. Maybe we'll go watch the game at a pub, or maybe we'll stay home and try to survive the stress together. Any way I look at it, today is a gift. I have a full week next week, and this past one was full of job stress. I have had a cold for approximately 7 weeks (I am not even kidding you, folks). But today the sun is shining, and I'm allowed to say no to the things that are adding stress, and a resounding yes to the people and activities I love. Fridays are a gift, and sometimes they're a gift I turn down, l...

Last week, my placement tasked me with unpacking my "personal experience theology" - writing, sharing, and discussing my personal theology around many interrelated topics. As I wrote out definitions and thought about my experience of certain concepts, I was encouraged, challenged, and a little bit nervous. And then I shared it with my colleagues, and they asked me a bazillion questions, and pointed out common themes, and shared their insights into my insights, and it was lovely and terrifying and gave me lots of food for thought. And now I'm going to share some of these 'personal statements' with you. And, as always, I would love to hear your thoughts on my thoughts... Evil –  actively harming another, disregarding their autonomy and/or humanity, using them for personal pleasure or gain without their consent, intentionally deceiving  – when I think of my own personal experience of evil, I think of two types – my own temptations towards evil, towards disreg...

Last week, one of my lovely friends sent me an email with a poem (few things make me happier), because she had been "musing about strength and how one can develop and foster her own strength etc," alongside a recent conversation we'd had.* The poem was perfectly apt, and so we talked a bit about strength, and endurance and how life always has glitches and struggles that we cannot avoid. There is only one way ahead, and we have to go there. Going where you have to go.  Doing the needful, another friend calls it. But doing it in a certain way. One that expects capacity to increase, I guess, and believes that going where you have to go is ultimately going to be GOOD. I often think about this when things are overwhelming, or something in me resists what is inevitable, unavoidable, or already chosen: do I believe that the outcome will be good? That it will be worth it? Why or why not? If I do , then how do I help myself press on? If I don't , why do I feel the nee...

Simone Weil time again! One of the essays in Waiting for God  is entitled "Forms of the Implicit Love of God." Her main argument is that before a soul has "direct contact" with God, there are three types of love that are implicitly  the love of God, though they seem to have a different explicit  object. That is, in loving X, you are really loving Y. (in this case, Y = God). As for the X of the equation, she lists: Love of neighbor  Love of the beauty of the world  Love of religious practices  and a special sidebar to Friendship “Each has the virtue of a sacrament,” she writes. Each of these loves is something to be respected, honoured, and understood both symbolically and concretely. On each page of this essay, I found myself underlining profound, challenging, and thought-provoking words. There's so much to consider that I've gone back several times, mulling it over and wondering how my life would look if I truly believed even half of these thi...

Last week, I introduced you to one of my recently-discovered heroines . Today I'd like to explain a little bit about what I see in her life and writings that grabs my attention, and in my next post, I'll share some quotes & thoughts from her works. Here's why I'm drawn in by Simone Weil: From a very young age, she strove for equality for all humanity , and believed in the need to care for the afflicted. Although she experienced profound mystical moments , and had a deep belief in the Christian faith, she died "outside" the Catholic church, having refused to be baptized - she felt it would compromise her intellectual integrity, and separate her from those with whom she most desired solidarity. Simone trusted herself and her experiences - when she first experienced Christ's presence, it was wholly unexpected and unknown to her. In fact, she wrote that "God in his mercy had prevented me from reading the mystics, so that it should be evident t...

Several years ago, I picked up a small biography of a woman named Simone Weil. I had little idea about who she was, or why I had heard her name, but she intrigued me, and I read the story of her life that summer. I found it fascinating, but I had never read any of her writing, and was unfamiliar with much of her context. The weight of her words and life did not fully sink into my heart. This year, school has provided me with the opportunity to study her life and writing in more depth, and I am profoundly glad. She is, for me, a kindred spirit and great hero.  So without further ado, I would like to introduce you to Simone Weil (pronounced Vay) .  Simone Weil was born in 1909, in France. Her father was a medical doctor, her parents were both agnostic, and they came from a Jewish heritage. She had one older brother, Andre, who would go on to be a significant mathematician in the area of algebra and geometry.  During WWI, her father served as a military doc...

At my current church, there is an adorable old man named George. There's something about old-man Georges that get to me. (It's probably not hard for you all to figure it out.)  This George is even older than my Grampie. And on top of being a centarian, he is also a poet. In fact, when I initially expressed interest in his poetry, he brought me three of his four volumes the following week (he couldn't find any copies of Volume 1). A few weeks ago, during coffee hour (after the early service, 8 or 10 of us sit around and eat a breakfast of cookies and coffee), we got to discussing the weather, and this slow movement towards spring. One of my friends/colleagues there is a Maritimer, and she is particularly fond of the winter season. I am not so inclined. She was lamenting the ugliness of this liminal season before spring, and the inevitability of wet feet and dirty half-snow everywhere. "I look forward to the slush!" George piped up. And we all laughed. ...

For the majority of Christians around the world, it is now Lent - a season observed as we approach Easter. Though Lent has been a part of the Christian calendar for over a thousand years, it is a relatively new practice for me. So when I was asked to preach on Ash Wednesday, I was both excited and a bit nervous. On Ash Wednesday, many Christians are marked with ashes on their foreheads, and the words, "Remember you are dust, and to dust you will return," are spoken over them.    Encouraging, right?    Here's what I shared - drawing on the texts of Joel 2:1-2, 12-17 , Psalm 103:8-18 , Matthew 6:1-6,16-21 , and Psalm 51 . I went to university in my hometown, and though I lived on my own, I often borrowed my parents’ vehicle. On one particular occasion,  I borrowed it to renew my passport in a nearby town. My roommate went with me, and we had a great drive - until we got to the parking lot. It was tiny, and I was driving an 8 passenger Safari van. But I ...

I imagine the name Christina Rossetti doesn't ring a bell to most of you. But you might know of her work; most well-known of her poems is the Christmas carol "In the Bleak Midwinter" (I'm a huge fan of Sarah McLachlan's version ). She also wrote a poem called " Goblin Market " and one entitled " Who Has Seen the Wind? " and many, many others. She is one of the most well-known female poets out of England, up there with Elizabeth Barrett Browning. And alongside her poetry, she wrote devotional and theological works. (What a delight to find a new kindred spirit!) Tonight, I am reading her rather obscure Letters and Spirit: Notes on the Commandments  (not even listed on Wikipedia !) as the focus of my final paper for last semester's class on Women Interpreters of the Bible. Yes, last semester... my prof suggested I take an extension, what with the wedding and all - and while I was reluctant, it did  make a whole lot of sense and relieve a...

In the fall, I preached for the first time at an actual church, with a hundred listeners, a microphone, and fancy robes.  Of course, the passages I was assigned to tackle (I had my choice of 3) were all about the end of the world as we know it. Not generally a popular topic, certainly a controversial one, and quite honestly, a rather stressful one for me on the occasion of my first sermon.  Two months later, I feel okay about it... I have a tiny bit of experience under my belt, a whole lot of encouragement from my community, and a renewed sense of my love for discussing the big ideas and questions of life.  So I wanted to share this sermon (and maybe some of the others I've given since) with you all.  If you are not a church person and you're still reading, first of all - I commend you. And secondly, I'd particularly love to hear your thoughts! I know there can be a lot of church-speak, and strange ideas, but I am keen to make the strangeness of the Ch...

I think the time has come for white men and women to reflect critically and honestly on how their whiteness makes them different. How their whiteness accords them privilege and access to resources that they withhold from those who are "not their kind." How their whiteness has been made the unacknowledged norm of what it means to be human. How their whiteness has brought hardship and misery to millions. - Asian-American theologian Gayle Yee. Mea culpa.   I try to avoid being publicly political, but the past few weeks have been beyond outrageous when it comes to race relations, crime, and oppression of non-caucasians. I didn't feel like I had much of anything to add to the conversation, as a caucasian Canadian female - we need to hear voices from within marginalized communities. At the same time, silence leaves me seated on the side of the oppressors, the majority who are not aware of the roles we often complicitly play in maintaining the unhealthy status-quos. ...

When September started, I found myself singing along with Green Day : Summer has come and passed. The innocent can never last wake me up when September ends... Not exactly a cheery song. But here we are! September has ended! I have survived! And not only that, but I had some fantastic moments. I'm learning exciting things at school, taking all kinds of scary personal steps, and re-establishing a rhythm to my life. There are things to look forward to in my immanent future: I'm the unofficial officiant at my cousin's wedding this weekend, then making an extra-long weekend around Thanksgiving to visit Vancouver for another wedding (and, of course, to see many of my delightful friends from back in the day). Then it's Reading Week. Then November arrives, and I'll be part of a panel on sexuality at this conference for ladies in Christian ministry (or those thinking about being a lady in Christian ministry). I did not anticipate such an outcome when I start...

It was April 2012, and I was having trouble breathing. I sat at my desk, staring blankly at the computer screen, reminding myself to breathe in and then out again, and slowly. And then I was okay for a day or two, because some little thing would buoy my spirits or make me think this panic was gone for good, and then it would wash over me again, and I would breath again and push down this anxiety so I could keep living and trying to walk forward. I told one of my friends how I was feeling,  and she commented that anxiety and fear often come into our lives when we are not believing the gospel, and maybe was there something off in my relationship with Jesus? I thought about this. Then I wondered,  "How would I even know? I don't remember what he sounds like." It occurred to me that if Jesus was trying to tell me something, I wouldn't have been able to hear it anyway. And the author of a memoir I was reading at the time mentioned her spiritual direct...

Let's talk about how much life can change in a year. And yet, how little changes at the same time. Yesterday, I celebrated a friend's 35th birthday. It's the fourth year that I've been a part of her life, and I have fond memories of eating cake and dancing with two other friends in her basement apartment in 2010, shortly after she moved to the city. In some ways, my life hasn't changed much since then. I'm still here in Toronto. Still struggling to make ends meet. Still unsure of where my life is headed. But appearances can be deceiving, and I feel certain that these years have been important ones. I started a nannying job that fall. Took care of two rambunctious boys for a year. Then spent a year and a half working for their mom's business. The whole time, I asked myself, What am I doing? Where am I headed?  It felt like nothing was happening. And then a conversation I hardly remember, except for the sound of my own voice saying, "I'd lov...