Stain Glass Lens of the 21st Century

Category: Beauty

  • Summer Solstice Has Arrived!

    Summer Solstice Has Arrived!

    Today, Thursday June 20th, 2024, at about 4:50 p.m. we will experience the moment of perfect balance! This is the day when the sun reaches its highest and northernmost point in the sky, according to the Farmer’s Almanac, marking the first day of astronomical summer; the summer solstice.

    “The summer solstice occurs in the northern hemisphere when the northern half of the globe has its closest tilt towards the sun.  Conversely, it’s also when the southern hemisphere experiences the winter solstice, as the southern half of the globe is at its furthest tilt away from the Sun.” (Adler Planetarium)

    Traditionally the summer solstice has been celebrated in many ways such as Midsummer Festivals which include bonfires, picnics, singing, maypole dancing, and hikes to elevated heights either to witness the sunrise or sunset.  Some take to the beach as a means of commencing their summer rituals of sailing, surfing, or simply sun bathing.  Others plan a special meal with friends and family marking this special day with a BBQ and a backyard celebration.

    Author Sarah Ban Breathnach reminds us that “One way of celebrating the Solstice is to consider it a sacred time of reflection, release, restoration, and renewal.”

    However you may mark the solstice remember that today affords us 15 hours of day light to inaugurate the summer with deliberate joy, celebration, and fun; the perfect way to begin this most welcomed season. 

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Travis Rupert/Pexels

  • Why Write?

    Why Write?

    A few folks have asked me recently why I had stopped writing.  Perhaps it was the darkness of winter that had seeped deep into my bones resulting in a tiredness that weakened me.  Or, perhaps it was a winter sleepiness that, like a cloud of scentless poison, had lulled me into a dull haze.  I am not entirely sure.  It just felt that my small voice was no match for the looming issues facing us all.  

    Such issues as homelessness which seems to have grown into a global pandemic matched only by the surreal number of accidental overdoses and both pale in comparison to the global environmental catastrophes reported daily.

    It all had silenced me.

    Until early in spring, before dawn one morning I heard this lone bird singing a thin melody.  I stepped out in the predawn darkness searching skyward; no other bird had joined the song and yet, it continued to sing. Something in its refrain struck a chord deep within me, encouraging me to rise again and join my simple voice against the darkness.

    This courageous birdsong reminded me that there is still some worthiness in this worn out world.  There is beauty, kindness, and goodness still to be found; the world hasn’t gone entirely to rot.

    My voice may rise in a whisper offering little wisdom except the observation of what beauty I find.  As I recently read, “We do not see the world as it is, we see it as we are.” 

    May we all reside within a place that hears the little bird singing in the darkness of a beautiful world.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by lil artsy/Pixels

  • Defense Against The Darkness

    Defense Against The Darkness

    Early every November, when the days are short and nights are long, I gather all that is needed to create my defense against the darkness.

    It usually entails one trip to the local hardware store, old newspapers from the recycling bin and about 2 hours of my time.  With the kitchen counter cleared and covered with the old newspapers I begin this most necessary task.

    It is a dirty task but one that raises my spirits like no other on a dark November evening.  The repotting of my house plants!

    I lovingly choose which of my growing collection needs a bigger or deeper pot and with tender words of encouragement the procedure begins.  Once the new pot is prepared, I delicately lift the plant out of its old digs and gingerly place it within the folds of freshly fluffed soil.  The roots are carefully covered followed by the gentle cleansing of each leaf.  Once complete, fresh water is poured over the soil and misted across the foliage. Then that plant is returned to its place within our home looking refreshed and standing a bit prouder.

    My home is full of green plants, some hanging from the windows, others along windowsills or in planters.  We have an arrangement, me, and these green roommates.  They promise to filter the air in our home filling the grey November days with many shades of green; shades that provide a peacefulness that both comfort and enliven my spirit.  I in return visit each one weekly nourishing them with loving words, fresh water and at times some liquid food.

    As the quote says, “Having indoor plants is like having little pockets of joy throughout your home.”  These pockets of joy are truly a gift from God!

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Huy Phan/Pexels

  • Silent Beauty

    Silent Beauty

    Dr. Maria Montessori, an Italian physician and educator best known for her philosophy of education, taught the value of silence to her young students.

    In her book, The Secret of Childhood, she explains that one day she carried a sleeping infant into a busy classroom and all the students quieted down to observe the peacefulness of the infant.   This silence became a game in her classroom and it wasn’t long until the children grew to appreciate all that silence brought, “Silence is refreshing, giving our overloaded senses a break. When it is silent it is easier to notice how smooth the geometric solid is in our hands. It is easier to hear the gentle sound of a zipper, or notice the scent of fresh cut flowers. Silence brings us back into ourselves, yet is also a profound connection to everyone else in the room at the same time.”

    It isn’t unusual to find plants and flowers in a Montessori classroom, each used as a lesson in how beautiful things happen in silence, “Watch as the flower blooms in complete silence or how that green plant grows up the side of the window in utter silence.” The same is true when appreciating a sunrise or a sunset, each taking our breath away without making one bit of sound.

    Autumn is a wonderful example of God’s beauty in silence.  The silent trees fill the landscape with a brilliant celebration; bright yellows, jubilant oranges, and rapturous reds, awing us into a silent reverence.

    May we take this lesson and like Dr. Montessori and her students, savor all that silence can teach us.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Courtney Read/Unsplash

  • Night Calls

    Night Calls

    It was in the wee hours of the morning that they woke me.  At first, I wondered if I had dreamt it but as I lay awake their calls filled my darkened room.  Getting up and quietly pulling on my slippers I leaned against the open screen and listened more deliberately.

    Sure enough, they were out there.  Not one but most likely two or more owls screeching and hooting; each marking their territory.  Carefully I opened the door to the patio and slipped out unnoticed.  I wanted to enjoy their conversation for as long as I could.

    Their hollow hoots took me back to a night many years earlier in the same back yard.  We all were gathered around a camp fire and my three young children, no older than 9 or 10, heard an owl for the first time.  As we silently listened to the haunting call the camp fire flames danced in the night creating a most desired effect; it was a night we won’t forget.  The awe I felt that night returned as I now sat alone listening deeply from the back deck.

    Earlier that night I had prayed asking for words, the kind of words a minister is to preach on a Sunday following a week of terrible headlines. That week we had witnessed wild fires strip thousands of acres of land, homeless people pitch make shift tents in city centres, random stabbings on the Toronto subway, and locally we had the deaths of two young promising youth.

    These owls had arrived to answer that very prayer.  Their timelessness reminded me of God’s great mystery, awe, and eternal presence.   

    As the owls flew away leaving behind the wind whispering through the pine trees I knew I had my answer.  As First Nation’s writer, Richard Wagamese once wrote, “I know that the price of faith is the courage to walk through anything with belief in immaculate love-and the value of faith is eternal.” 

    There is eternal value in trusting God’s love, participating in the great mystery and remaining open to God’s un-chartable awe.

    Blessing,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Erik Karits/Pexels

  • A Risotto Summer

    A Risotto Summer

    This week we flipped one page in the calendar from July to August, signaling, for many the halfway point of summer holidays.  Standing by the kitchen calendar I tried to recall all that July held and was hard pressed to remember much of it, where did the month go?

    Refusing to let July end on such a sour note, I decided to mark the day with something symbolic.  And I knew exactly what that something would be.   Just that morning a friend had emailed me a recipe for Risotto.  I had decided to set it aside as the recipe started with the statement, “Many say Risotto is a difficult dish to make but it really is very simple, all one needs to do is slow down and take your time.  Risotto teaches that slow brings the best results.”

    With recipe in hand, I headed to the grocery store and later, after watching a video on how to make the perfect Risotto, I started up the frying pan.  As I diligently followed every word in the recipe, even timing the stirring to a perfect 20 minutes as directed.  I realized this recipe was exactly the spiritual exercise I needed to set the tone for the month of August.

    This month I will slow down, taking time to gaze up at the fluffy clouds by day and the starry sky at night.  I promised myself I would spend time running my toes through the warm sand at the beach and plan at least one evening by a crackling campfire.  There would be time to attend open-air concerts and to walk under the tall maples along the river.  I would slow down enough this month to savor all that the month of August offers.

    As the list formed in my mind, the Risotto slowly formed into a lovely creamy dish.  Topped with freshly shredded parmesan and garnished with herbs from the garden it became a reminder of the need to slow down and enjoy the good things in life. It is true, Risotto does teach that slow brings the best results!

    May it be a Risotto August for us all,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Lucas Lobak Neves/Unsplash

  • June’s Arrival

    June’s Arrival

    The arrival of June was announced several days prior to June 1st.   Perhaps it was the excitement of this most happiest of  months that spurred the flowers to celebrate a few days earlier or maybe they just could not hold off any longer.

    The unmistakable fragrance of June seeped into the bedding drying on the clothsline and found its way into the mudroom perfuming our garden gloves and hanging raincoats.  It is a powerful elixir, causing one to stop dead in their tracks, distracted by its unexpected beauty wiping clear any former intentions.

    I stood transfixed in the driveway, forgetting why I had even ventured out.  It was as though a fog overtook me, a mix of Lilly of the Valley, Lilac, Crabapple blossoms, and Hyacinth aromas, combined to such a heavenly scent I stood, eyes shut,  smelling the air like a drunken fool. As British author, Beverley Nicols, writes, “To be overcome by the fragrance of flowers is a delectable form of defeat.” 

    May we all be defeated by this most rewarding fragrance, rendering us useless with its calming and satisfying effects and may we all pause to bask in all that June has to offer.

    Happy June Everyone,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Tina Sara/Unsplash

  • The Long Weekend

    The Long Weekend

    Finally, the May long weekend has arrived!  Three days of rest, relaxation and time spent with family and friends.

    We deserve a few days of spring celebration after what has been dubbed, “The darkest winter in 80 years” by the United States National Weather Services.  In fact, Southern Ontario saw the least amount of sunshine than just about anywhere else in all of North America.

    Couple this with the chilly north wind which outstayed its welcome this past spring and we all are due for a few days of warmth and sunshine.

    Friday began calm with a warm breeze and a hint of sunshine.  By noon folks appeared with rakes, hoes, and flats of bedding plants eager to get started on beautifying their yards.  It was a productive day with happiness not witnessed in months. 

    Then, as if on cue, just as the workday was ending a dark ominous cloud slowly made its way over the Bay and by early evening the rainfall had begun.

    We sat listening to its steady drumming commenting on the beauty of its rhythm; grateful that the dry lawns and gardens were receiving warm sustenance.

    Two hours later this rain seemed less romantic and by bedtime we knew the long weekend was a bust.   The weather forecast shared news of rain and lots of it for the next 24 hours. 

    However, it is the early dawn as I write, and the view is remarkable. A soft mist has settled in some low-lying spots and the hours of warm rain encouraged the maple leaves, stunted by the cold north wind, to fully realize their growth.  There is vibrancy all around.

    The maple trees have filled in making it difficult to see through to the other side and a green carpet stretches across the yard dotted with happy dandelions.  The crabapple trees are in full bloom adding a celebratory brightness while the pastel shades of magnolia blossoms deepen the beauty.  Perhaps this won’t be the long weekend we had hoped for, but it may just be the long weekend we need.

    Whatever the weather in your part of the world, may this be a blessed time of growth, greening and renewal.  

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Mateusz Stepien/Unsplash

  • Tiny Trilliums

    Tiny Trilliums

    These past few days the trilliums have begun to take over the hillsides and sunny patches along the forest floor and beside the park trails.  These beauties are the cause of bottlenecks as folks stop to snap photos or simply to enjoy their elegance.  There is one notable difference in the trilliums this year, at least where I live, although perfect in every way they are much smaller then usual.

    Curious about these miniature trilliums I did some reading on the topic and learned that the cooler winds and near freezing evening temperatures are causing a stunted growth in many spring flowers this year.  This certainly would be true in my own backyard as the north wind blows off Georgian Bay causing myself and my neighbors to don wool sweaters while out in our gardens.

    As I stood in the late afternoon sun admiring the loveliness of a hillside covered in trilliums a certain respect for their tenacity began to take hold. Despite the cold winds, duller days and near freezing rainfall these little gems doggedly took root, fought to grow as tall as possible and proudly display their best efforts at blooming.  Could God be speaking to us all through these little flowers?  Is it possible that the great Creator notices the courage and determination found in a simple wildflower?

    Medieval Catholic theologian Thomas Aquinas asserted that God is not just a being but Being itself, “present everywhere in everything,” not just confined to a supernatural heaven above but existing even in nature. If Aquinas is to be believed, then it is possible God not only notices these tiny trilliums but is cheering them on!

    Perhaps, they are the teachers, and we are the students; learning how to withstand the chilly winds of life. The lesson being: no matter what chilly breeze is blowing through our lives right now, we are to be like the trilliums and take root, stand tall and dare to show our beauty for all.  We may not always be at our best, but perhaps just the effort to grow and be present is enough.  The trilliums teach that we cannot let the chilly winds stop us from blooming exactly where we are planted.

    It is a marvelous thing to belong to a God so great that even small wildflowers are used to point us in the direction of a meaningful life. May we all be wise enough to pay attention!

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by David M. Chambers/Unsplash

  • Lonesome Friendship

    Lonesome Friendship

    He arrives daily, usually just around supper time and makes his presence known by singing a low sad melody.  Dutifully I stop whatever I am doing and lay out fresh food with hopes he may stay awhile.

    His lonesome presence has become a part of my daily routine as I deliberately pay him attention; wanting him to know he is noticed, valued and precious in someone’s eyes. 

    His official name is Zenaida Macroura, many know him as a Mourning Dove; I have named him Bedad Kissimi (B.K. for short).  Bedad is an Old Testament name meaning, “alone or set aside” and once while visiting I was able to point Bedad out to a friend who shared that the name Kissimmi  is an Indigenous name that means ‘alone.’ So, this is how Bedad Kissimi came to be named.

    It isn’t clear why B.K. is all alone.  Presumably his mate has died but perhaps she tossed him out of the nest for spending too many late nights with his buddies or for leaving his dirty socks under the bed. It doesn’t matter; I am tired of the world’s judgements on others.  He has bravely made his aloneness known and I choose to respond with kindness, friendship and fresh birdseed. 

    His friendship has come to mean much to me, having him trust me is truly a privilege. At first he would stay in the tree top until after I had placed the seed and returned inside.  Now, he stays only an arm’s length away, we make eye contact most days as he tilts his head in gratitude.   

    In fact, I have wondered who is helping who.  I simply drop seed on the deck floor while he engages the strings of my heart! 

    As Charles Chaplin said, “He who feeds a hungry animal, feeds his own soul.”

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo from Aaron J. Hill/Pexels