Stain Glass Lens of the 21st Century

Author: mumblingofaminister

  • Blushing Green

    Blushing Green

    Photo by Atul Vinayak/Unsplash

    Despite the persistent north wind and the mornings of new snowfall, spring is quietly sneaking in. 

    First it was the Tamaracks who gave spring’s presence away followed by the Dogwood and just today the Lilac bushes were whispering it loudly as they too blushed shades of green.

    However, most of the trees have done a great job of hiding spring’s sneaky approach.  There are no buds, nor tiny leaves or signs of new growth.  Despite the date on the calendar they all seem to be contently snuggled in for a long winter’s nap.  

    Thankfully there have been other indications of spring’s arrival.  First there was the bear who wandered through my neighborhood last week.  With a winter size appetite it meandered through garbage bins and emptied bird feeders before disappearing back into the woods.  Second, the celebratory honking of Canadian Geese as they fly overhead, loudly announcing their safe return from warmer climates and third, is the ever more subtle return of the Rainbow Trout.  They quietly swim upstream adding flashes of colour with their iridescent vestments. And of course, one can’t forget the forbearers of warmer days, the busy Robins who are eagerly building their nests.

    Perhaps it is the beauty that I know lies ahead that makes me restless.  Wanting the flowers now, the warmth now and all the green to return immediately! Instead nature takes its time; challenging me to slow down and look carefully for every tiny sign of change.  Nature is a wonderful teacher of being patient and remaining observant.  As Lao Tzu wrote, “Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.”

    May we all slow down long enough to savor the reawakening of God’s creation and may it renew in us awe and wonderment.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

  • Why Do Birds Sing at Dawn?

    Why Do Birds Sing at Dawn?

    Photo by Andy Holms/Unsplash

    Some scientists have concluded that it is male birds who sing in the morning as a way of marking their territory and to announce their mating call.  Other scientists argue that both female and male birds fill the sunrise with song because they are simply announcing the good news that they have woke to another day; they are sharing this news with their mates.  And, there are those who claim that in the midst of the hot and humid summer months, when morning birdsong is at its loudest, it is because of the coolness of the morning and birds take advantage of these cooler temperatures to make their presence known.

    The poets have claimed that birdsong is nature’s poetry that is ruined once we try to capture and dissect it.  As Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote, “You must hear the birdsong without attempting to render it into nouns and verbs.”

    The birds may never give up their secret for why they fill dawn with song and poetry but that is okay.  As I grow older I am becoming increasingly comfortable with the not knowing.  I do not need to know why they sing, I am just grateful they do.

    Since day light savings time has begun, when we turned our clocks ahead one hour, Abby (my canine sidekick) and I routinely go out to the back deck just before dawn.   Some days, with a jacket pulled over my bathrobe, we take in the slowly growing chorus.  It begins each morning with the same bird and soon following his deep melody others join in.  At this time of year the choir isn’t big but we know it will grow steadily over the next few weeks.

    I am grateful for their trusted call each morning. Whether it be rain, snow or fog they raise their tiny voices in song and inspire me to do the same.  Despite waking to horrible news from Ukraine, or a discouraging snow fall through the night their song calls me to rise up and celebrate yet another day.

    As Maya Angelou wrote, “A bird doesn’t sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song.”  May this song inspire us towards brighter and warmer days that lie ahead.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

  • Everyday Saints

    Everyday Saints

    Photo by Sebastian Leon Prado/Unsplash

    Have you ever met someone who truly inspired you?  Not the heavy weights such as Martin Luther King Jr or Mother Teresa but everyday people.  Those whose days are filled with ordinary tasks such as grocery shopping, paying the bills, laundry, making supper, working and helping the kids with their homework; everyday Saints who blaze a trail of faithful living through the ordinariness of life.

    These folks inspire me because of their vision.  Where I see endings, they see new beginnings, where I see lack they see opportunities or where I see despair they see something to be grateful for.  They embody the gospel for me, living their lives as faithful followers of the one who said such amazing things as, “Do not be afraid.  Take courage, I am here.”  (Matthew 14:27, LBT).  They joyfully celebrate God’s presence and wisdom in every situation, no matter the circumstances.

    They remind me of a quote attributed to Francis of Assisi, “Preach the gospel at all times and when necessary use words.” We are not sure he actually said these words but certainly his short life of 44 years was a testimony to their wisdom. And those who inspire me seem to effortlessly live by the wisdom of these words; not preaching the hopefulness of the gospel with flowery sermons but instead living it day by day in the trenches of life.

    The Apostle Paul is another example. While in prison with an uncertain future he writes a letter to the church in Philippi reminding them that he is constantly praying in joy for them. (Phil 1:4)  He spends his imprisonment writing letters, praying for others and testifying to God’s steadfast love.  His response to his circumstances was so impressive he became a person of timeless inspiration challenging us all to, “….dare to proclaim the gospel with greater boldness and without fear.” (Phil 1:14).

    Thanks be to God for these ordinary, everyday Saints who inspire us to a higher way of living!

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

  • A Sweet Boil

    A Sweet Boil

    Picture by Nadine Primeaur/Unsplash

    It is maple syrup time!  Folks have been busy for weeks in preparation; wood has been stacked, trees tapped, buckets in place and now, as the days warm the sap has begun to flow.

    This afternoon I had the joy of watching a group of children tap a tree, then go to another tree and empty the bucket before finally arriving to the fire and watch as the watery sap evaporated into thick rich maple syrup.

    It seems to me the boiling stage is the most important part of the entire process.  And, depending on how quickly the sap is put to boil, the temperature of the boil, and how long the sap boils determines its quality.  Top quality syrup is classified as Grade A and is described as syrup with a light to medium amber shade and a delicate flavor while Grade B tends to be darker syrup with a stronger flavor.   Maple syrup is one of those rare things that sweetens and becomes beautiful after a boil. 

     As I watched the sap boil my thoughts turned to the long boil we all have been through these past 24 months.  It is exactly 2 years ago this week that the World Health Organization (WHO) declared the pandemic and since then we all have learned how long a boil we each can withstand.

    Not everyone is up for a boil.  Some folks turn grouchy when life becomes difficult creating turbulence for all who surround them.  Others pull themselves up by the boot straps, square their shoulders and soldier on and then there are those who simply lean out of the difficulty and wait for it to pass.

    Peter, Jesus’ disciple, didn’t fare so well when he was put into a boil.  Merely days after promising he would never deny knowing Jesus,  Peter, while warming himself around a fire, was asked if he was a follower of Jesus and he answered, “no”.  Fearful an honest answer may cause him harm Peter lied, not once, not twice but three times as the fire heated up.

    Not everyone can handle the boil. 

    The good news is Peter had the opportunity to set things straight.  After the crucifixion, early one morning Peter was shocked to find Jesus on the beach cooking breakfast over a fire.  Peter takes this opportunity to admit his shame, ask for forgiveness and not only was he granted a new beginning he became the rock upon which the church is built.  It is never too late to start anew with the God of new beginnings.

    So?  How about you?  How did you manage the boil of the past 24 months?  Are there any fences you need to mend?  It is never too late to set things right and turn the boil into something sweet and beautiful.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

  • Notes Of Humility

    Notes Of Humility

    Picture by Patrick Hendry/Unsplash

    There is a new rule in our house; no news after 7:00 p.m. !

    The last time I watched the 11:00 p.m. news I didn’t sleep a wink that night.  The softness of my bed and the quietness of my room carried me back to the underground garages where Ukrainian families slept on damp cement floors covered by thin blankets.    

    As  I tossed and turned my thoughts returned to the father standing outside a train as it pulled away holding his son’s toy car with tears rolling down his face; he sent his family away to safety while he stayed to fight for his country.  My prayers began to rise throughout that long night.

    I began to ponder, “What is power?”  Certainly from the news we can easily make the mistake of thinking missiles, bombs and instruments of war define that which power is.  Putin and his kind seem to have the upper hand, their brute force leaving us all feeling small, useless and vulnerable.

    Jesus knew what it was to feel vulnerable.  He lived his final days with the knowledge of what lied ahead; the fickle crowds, misled leaders, and the unimaginable pain of nails hammered by the hatred of humanity.

    Despite this he demonstrated the ultimate act of humility. Everyone except Jesus was caught off guard. With a basin of clean water and an ordinary towel he knelt down and washed the feet of every disciple; even washing the feet of Judas, knowing all the while that Judas was going to betray him. 

    Over 2000 years later this humble act remains an example of how to reach great heights by kneeling low to help others. As Saint Augustine writes, “It was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes humans as angels.”

    Such an angel is Davide Martello who traveled 5000 miles to play his piano for the Ukrainian refugees.  This man knows a thing or two about what is truly powerful.  He traveled from Germany to the Ukrainian-Polish border with his piano where he played music to bring peace and hope to the refugees. He understands the power of beauty and melody to carry people out of the ugliness of war and to help soothe anxieties.   

    What a vision he created; sitting there at his piano defying the bombs, the soldiers and the devastation that surrounded him. His humble act of love and beauty has lifted the spirits of many around the globe.

    We each can do our part to add to the peace in this world; each bowing down to pray or reaching out to help.  We can share our resources; the Red Cross is accepting online donations as are most denominations.  Humbling ourselves to lift others up is the most Christ-like act any of us could ever do; it connects us to an eternal power that brings life out of seemingly dead situations.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

  • Lost To The World

    Lost To The World

    Photo by Bruno Martins/Unsplash

    I have a friend; we will call him George, who is completely lost to the world.  Unfortunately this wonderful and brilliant man now has a form of cognitive decline and often is not aware of his surroundings.  The last time we had a visit he believed himself to be at the bank. The time before that he welcomed me to sit with him at the coffee shop as he waited for a fresh cup of java; both times he was safely in his room.  

    This last time, as he explained how he was waiting for the bank teller to return, I purposely got out my bible and turned to the first page, a picture of Jesus, and turning the picture toward George I asked, “Hey, do you know who this is?”

    He paused, smiled his big signature smile and said, “I know him!  He is my friend.” 

    “Yes” I said, “And he said he would be our Shepherd.”

    George nodded his head and started, “The Lord is my Shepherd.  I shall not want.  He maketh me to lie down in green pastures…”.  Together we recited the 23rd Psalm.  Once done, while holding the picture of Jesus up again I said, “Your friend has also taught us how to pray.”

    “Oh, yes.  He did.” Said George, “ It goes like this, “ Our Father who art in heaven….”.   Together we recited the prayer. 

    Partway through the prayer, to my utter surprise, my voice caught on the lump that had formed in my throat.  Tears had formed in the corners of my eyes.  I paused realizing this divine drenched moment had moved me to tears.    

    When we had completed the Lord’s Prayer George smiled and said, “That friend never leaves me and he has been there for me through so much.”

    This is a man of great faith, an enduring faith.  He was always involved at his church carrying with him the compassion, joy, wisdom and love of God.  Everyone who knew him knew he was a Christian.  This never left him, even when he seems lost to the world, he isn’t lost to Jesus.

     We are each being welcomed into an eternal relationship with the one who will lead us into life abundant.  A life abundant with meaning, joy, purpose, hope, accompaniment and grace upon grace. We are being invited to follow the one who knows our hearts, our stories, our failures, what grieves us and what gives us joy.  This God offers us a sustaining faith to carry us through this life and to the life beyond. 

    What an amazing invitation!

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel   

  • What’s Your Excuse?

    What’s Your Excuse?

    Photo by Brett Jordan/Unsplash

    My excuses have been many and varied.  Certainly I have used this pandemic as an excuse for many months and lately I have had the convenient excuse of the terribly cold temperatures.  One of my more plausible excuses is the condition of my left knee with a loose knee cap and a fascinating clicking sound with each step. 

    About 5 weeks ago I was challenged to help with a project that is very near and dear to me.  I was asked to help raise funds to keep Spiritual Care in the local hospitals.  Setting aside all my excuses I began each day pedaling my exercise bike to the rhythm of some of my favorite tunes.  Each ride ended as soon as the knee pain became unbearable.  At first I could only manage 3 miles at a time, then 5 miles, and twice I pushed it all the way to 10 miles but both times I paid for it terribly.  Now, I can safely ride up to 7 miles at a time and I completed a 60 km challenge for the fund raiser.   

    By leaving all my excuses behind I have discovered a renewed energy, a happier attitude, weight loss, and best of all, my achy knee doesn’t ache as much!

    It reminds me of the un-named man in the Gospel of John who spent 38 years sitting daily by the pool of Bethesda waiting to be healed.  Jesus came along and asked him, “Do you want to get well?”  Surprisingly the man doesn’t answer by saying “yes”; instead he answers with excuses placing blame on others.

    Jesus takes away all this man’s excuses by healing him; Jesus commands, “stand up, pick up your mat and walk!”  Now, the rest of this man’s life is up to him.  Does he find other excuses for not engaging life or does he embrace this second chance? The scriptures do not tell us.   I had a professor at seminary that taught whenever there is an un-named person in a biblical story we are to imagine it is us.  We become that person and their story becomes our story. 

    So, what excuses are you using for not engaging fully in the life you want?  How do you want the story of your life to go?  Perhaps now is the time for you to “stand up, pick up your mat and walk!”

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

  • Dead Water Revived

    Dead Water Revived

    Photo by Kevin Garcia/Unsplash

    Do you know the difference between dead water and living water?  

     I learned about dead water from one of my sons who had worked for the local Conservation Authority.  One of his duties was to run tests on remote creeks and waterways. If they proved to be “dead water” then a crew would work to revive the creek back into “living waters”.

    Simplifying the terms my son explained that some creeks may look lovely with clear and sparkling water but these creeks cannot sustain life, nothing lives in them and as such they are classified as “dead water”.  In order to have “living water” there must be rocks, boulders and rocky pathways for the water to travel.  It is healthy and helpful for there to be barriers that impede the water’s pathway, because having a not-so smooth pathway causes oxygen to get into the water and this oxygen changes “dead water” into “living water”, making it possible for fish, frogs, and turtles to live in the water.

    There needs to be twists, turns, rocks, bumpy pathways and big boulders to restore “dead water” into “living water” and that is the same in life.  It is when we know sadness, disappointment, struggles and all the other twists and turns that life brings that we are ready to receive “living waters”. It is in experiencing hardships that we are able to value a life sustaining relationship with God. 

    The woman at the well in the Gospel of John knew difficulties, she had 5 husbands, was an outcast from the Jewish faith simply by being a Samaritan and as a woman she was marginalized in the patriarchal society that she lived.  She knew hardship and it prepared her well to receive God’s gift of living waters.  She not only receives this living water but is so changed by the experience she cannot keep it to herself.  She runs back to her village and gathers everyone together so they too can receive this living water of hope, joy, and new beginnings.  

    I suspect many of us are seeking this living water right now.  This week we will arrive to the midway point of winter. For many this has been a difficult season due to days of isolation caused from COVID-19 restrictions and the deep freeze that has settled in.

    So, next time you are frustrated over something that seems too difficult to overcome; stop and remember to wrap that difficulty in prayer and hand it over to the God of healing and life sustaining waters.  As the Apostle Paul writes in his letter to the Romans, “…knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.”(Romans 5:3-5)

    May you have the courage to ask for the living water that only God can provide.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

  • Buoying Boredom

    Buoying Boredom

    Photo by Skyler Ewing/Pexels

    Boredom had set in.  Between the provincial COVID-19 lock-down, working from home (again) and days of frigid temperatures I had become tremendously bored. By week’s end I had tried three new recipes, planned every worship service through to the end of Lent and despite it only being January I had reached mid-June in my Read –The-Bible-In-a-Year Chart!  But nothing was working; the world just seemed differing shades of grey.  

    Then, the most unexpected thing happened.  Their arrival was marked by the strangest noise on the other side of my front door.  I opened it slowly to find at least 70 to 80 of them all over my front lawn and filling the bare maple trees. This hungry crew had only one thing on their minds; filling their bellies with the berries of the Euonymus Bush that grows up the side of my house, from the garden to the roof, taking in all two and a half floors. I stood in amazement listening as their chatter filled the air, a most charming melody.   

     I slowly closed the front door then quickly ran to the living room bay window.  The white polka-dotted plumage of these European Starlings added a certain jovial touch to the already fascinating scene. If it were not for the thin piece of glass that separated us I could have touched their fluttering wings and cupped their tiny feet in my hands; I stood among them as though I too was filling up on this feast. 

    There were about 30 Starlings fluttering mid-air waiting to dine, and as their turn arrived they would dive into the bush while others filled the hydro lines overhead.  I wasn’t the only one taking in this remarkable event; two cars had stopped and with windows rolled down they too were mesmerized by this flock of hungry birds. 

    Then, just as quickly as they arrived they were gone.  As if on cue they formed a large ink blot in the sky and flew out towards the bay.  As I watched them depart I noticed my spirits had lifted, I was no longer weighed down by boredom but filled with awe.  

     It is as though I had slipped into a mid-winter slumber and it took the unexpected arrival of a flock of birds to undo the spell.  Since their visit I have made a major discovery.  Boredom isn’t a situation we find ourselves in but a state of mind, an attitude we choose.  Nothing in my life changed, I was still working from home, the temperatures remained arctic cold and yet, my attitude is entirely different.  I am wide awake now, noticing the smell of bread baking, the ribbons of colour with each sunrise and sunset, admiring the shadows the full moon casts over my backyard, tasting the comfort of  bread pudding and appreciating the warmth and glow of the fire each evening.

    I am deeply grateful for a God who refuses to leave us alone but instead holds before us daily reminders of fresh starts and a glorious kingdom.  As it is written, “Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10)

    May you also find finger prints of God’s presence in your daily life and may they be reminders of the glorious presence that never leaves you nor forsakes you,

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel   

  • 60 km Bike Ride, Because I Care

    60 km Bike Ride, Because I Care

    Starting February 1st to the 10th, 2022 I will be riding my bike 60 km to signify the distance between my home and the hospital where I work as a Spiritual Care Provider (Chaplain). I know for many a 60 km bike ride is nothing more than a pleasant Saturday afternoon excursion but not in February!  It is a virtual bike ride.  I will be doing the 60 km on my stationary bike charting the progress daily.

    There is an excellent reason for this mid-winter jaunt. I and many others are raising awareness of Spiritual Care Providers in local hospitals as well as raising funds to help support the presence of Spiritual Care Providers in the Grey-Bruce Hospitals. The campaign is titled: “I Care ∴ I Walk (or ride):  A Spiritual Care Challenge to Grey Bruce.”

    In Grey-Bruce Counties there are trained Spiritual Care Providers in every hospital, hospice and at- home palliative care teams.  If you or a member of your family have ever received a visit from one of the Spiritual Care Providers than you know the invaluable care they provide. These trained professionals offer a non-anxious presence in some of the most anxious situations life has to offer.  Some are available On-Call 24/7 and are often called into crisis situations.

    If you would like to support the Spiritual Care presence in the local Grey-Bruce Hospitals please consider sponsoring me (every $20.00 donation or more is receipted) or email the Spiritual Care Office for details: ehazen@gbhs.on.ca.

    Recently, as I was ending a visit, the patient turned to me and said, “I didn’t realize how much I needed your visit until now.  Thank you for coming and could you come back soon?”  This sentiment is repeated often.  Please consider helping us to keep the gentle and attentive presence of Spiritual Care Providers within our local hospitals. 

    Thank-you,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel