Stain Glass Lens of the 21st Century

Category: Happiness

  • 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

  • Happy Mother’s Day

    Happy Mother’s Day

    Mother’s Day has come around again.  In seminary we were taught that these “Hallmark Holidays” were more about turning a profit for big business than genuine sentiment.  That wasn’t the way it started; Mother’s Day has an honest beginning.

    Anna Jarvis of Philadelphia, whose mother had organized women’s groups to promote friendship and health, originated Mother’s Day. On May 12, 1907, she held a memorial service at her late mother’s church in Grafton, West Virginia. Within five years virtually every state was observing the day, and in 1914 U.S. Pres. Woodrow Wilson made it a national holiday. (Britannica)

    There is a tradition that on Mother’s Day one wears a flower pinned to their lapel in honour of their mother.  The tradition holds that a white flower indicates if one’s mother has died, and a red or pink flower tells of a mother who is still alive. 

    Sadly, I find myself wearing a white flower on Mother’s Day.  I miss my mom daily and am grateful that her wisdom and lessons remain with me.   

    This past week I had the opportunity to visit with two lovely women from the church I serve.  Each knows the depths of grief that comes from the deaths of their spouses, and each has lived through the hardships of life.  They both are advanced in years and can fondly remember days of better health and of happier times.  And yet, each visit was filled with laughter and conversation that never turned dull or negative.  These are not the type of women who spend time in gossip or judgement of others. Instead, I heard of future vacation plans, gardens planted and family gatherings.  The time flew with each visit.

    As I reflected on both women, I realized they each model nurture to me and remind me of my own Mother and Grandmothers.  Their laughter, hospitality and wisdom mark the way I want to travel as I grow in years.  I too would like to be a beacon of nurture to younger women and be one who shares joy, acceptance, and grace that they each modelled for me.

    This Mother’s Day I thank God for the mother I had and for all those that still nurture the world with their care, grace, and laughter.

    Happy Mother’s Day,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel  

    Photo by George Dolgikh/Pexels

  • Feisty But Adorable Neighbors

    Feisty But Adorable Neighbors

    As the end of September draws near I know the time has come to do one of my least favorite tasks; turning over the vegetable garden.

    Despite the baskets of vegetables this year’s harvest supplied, I still find it difficult to pull up plants that show the smallest hope of bearing new fruit. 

    As I stood by the garden on this chilly but bright morning it seemed the beans, now wandering way above my head, deliberately stretched to their fullest revealing the tiny new beans.  The tomato plants gleamed with a certain shine as the morning light danced off their many tiny green gems and the spinach was more thick and lush then I had remembered, tempting me to just return inside.

    Twice over the past few weeks I had headed out with plans to pull up the garden and twice I had returned inside; today had to be different. Today I must be tough and get the task done.

    Whispering an apology I began to pull up the small plants then made my way around to the tall beans and peas.  Once they were lying in heaps by the composter I returned to the tomato plants.  It was then I heard angry banter from one of my neighbors.  He made it clear that he wasn’t pleased with what I was doing.  His protests went from a harsh tongue lashing to throwing pine cones at me! 

    He sent down a few warning pine cones which loudly banged off of the metal roofed shed echoing throughout the yard.  I stopped, looked up and this little red squirrel stood on the edge of the tree bough twitching its tail in a rather threatening manner.    

    I laughed at his tenacity; but he wasn’t amused and with little effort, dropped a pine cone right in my direction. At this point my dog, who had been napping, joined me by the garden.  Together we stood looking up as pine cones rained down around us.

    It would seem this tiny neighbor was very invested in the continued growth of my vegetable garden. Perhaps it was his high pitched “tit-titching” of me or his tense but adorable stance, but I decided to take his advice and the tomato plants still stand. As I gathered up all the garden tools and began to tidy up around the garden he quieted down and by the time I turned to go inside he was silent. 

    It wasn’t until an hour later I looked out the kitchen window and found this exasperating neighbor standing on the wooden edge of the raised garden enjoying a small green tomato.  I swear, he turned looked me straight in the eye and smiled as he continued to enjoy his lunch!

    May we all be blessed by feisty but adorable neighbors,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Gael Dupont-Langexin/Pexels

  • October Hollyhocks

    October Hollyhocks

    Photo by Mike B/Pexels

    Recently I met a man whose life is spent traveling the world.  He works for a major airline and as one of the pilots he has seen much of the world.  It was interesting to hear of the places he has lived, the people he has met and the variety of cultures he has experienced.  I marveled at all he must have seen.

    As one who has lived 55 years with my feet firmly planted on the ground I cannot imagine such a life as his. After sharing his latest adventure in South America he turned the conversation to me and asked where I have traveled.

    It just so happened the previous Sunday I had been the guest minister an hour north of where I live.  I explained the early morning drive up the peninsula along Georgian Bay and the remarkable autumn views.  I shared that as I arrived to the church I was amazed by the row of tall Hollyhocks in full bloom waving in the breeze.  Never in my life had I seen Hollyhocks blooming in October! They were the cause of such delight I spoke of them in my sermon that morning.   

    It was here in my telling that I paused ready to apologize for how simple my life must seem.  But to my surprise he was full of questions, “Where is this scenic route up the peninsula? How tall were these flowers? When do they usually bloom?”

    He didn’t make me feel small at all but instead was fully engaged in the wonder of my Sunday morning adventure.

    It doesn’t matter if we travel the world or are contented in our own backyard, what makes all the difference is the attitude we take with us.  The attitude of wonder, awe and remaining open to others makes life a magnificent journey!

    Blessings on your journey this week may it be full of wonder,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel    

  • Saucer Moments!

    Saucer Moments!

    Photo by solod_sha/Pexels

    He was sitting in the dirt, covered in his burlap cloak with his hand out stretched hoping someone would drop in a coin, a piece of bread or in the very least acknowledge his presence. Then he heard the name being spoken. The Healing Rabbi was finally walking past and without hesitation he yelled, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”

    “Oh, you just quiet down.  Jesus doesn’t want to hear from the likes of you!” They hissed at him.  Ignoring their taunts, Bartimaeus shouted louder, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”

    All the footsteps stopped, silence.  One singular voice spoke, “Call him.”

    A chorus rang out, “On your feet! He’s calling you.” 

    Throwing his cloak aside, Bartimaeus jumped to his feet and reached out.

    “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked.

    “Rabbi, I want to see.”

     “Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.” Immediately Bartimaeus could see.

    It is written that once receiving his sight Bartimaeus “followed Jesus along the road.” But I imagine he didn’t follow quietly and sedately but instead twirled, danced, and sang all the way to Jerusalem.   

    What joy and gratitude must have filled his soul!  The sheer exhilaration and celebration! 

    Have you ever experienced this kind of joy?  Perhaps at a new baby’s birth?  When you were told the cancer was gone?  Holding the winning ticket? Or, that moment you looked up at a tree ablaze in autumn finery?

    These are saucer moments; moments when we drink from our saucer because our cup runneth over.    

    That is what I imagine Bartimaeus sang as he danced behind Jesus, he sang about drinking from his saucer because his cup runneth over!

    May we all have countless saucer moments this coming week and may these moments open our eyes with such vision we see clearly the presence of the divine in our midst.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel  

  • Day-Tight Compartments!

    Day-Tight Compartments!

    Photo by Zachary Keimig/Unsplash

    In the spring of 1913 Sir William Osler, a Canadian Physician who was one of the founders of the Johns Hopkins Hospital, addressed the graduating class at Yale University with such a memorable speech it still echoes to this day.

    In his speech titled, “A Way of Life” he advised the graduates to adopt the “… practice of living for the day only and for the day’s work.”  By using the example of an air tight ocean liner that steadily sails the seas at twenty-five knots he concluded we each would journey life safely if we lightened our load by not carrying regrets of yesterday or worries about tomorrow. He warns that “the load of tomorrow, added to that of yesterday, carried today makes even the strongest falter.”

    His suggestion is that we focus only on the “life lived in the now in day-tight compartments.” 

    This phrase, “day-tight compartment” has become a mantra for me; repeated often as a reminder to not borrow sorrow from the past or to think up troubles in the future.  However, it seems to me that even Sir William Osler would agree that we need to plan for the future, everyone has deadlines to meet.  Often my work of today is to prepare the next Sunday’s sermon, or the next month’s preaching series.  We all must look ahead to be prepared for commitments and deadlines.  I wonder if the difference lies in preparing happily for that which we have some control but not wasting our present time in worrying about that which we have no control.  We often waste valuable time worrying over situations that only happen in our imagination, “Let us be of good cheer, remembering that the misfortunes hardest to bear are those which never happened.” (James Russel Lowell).

    Poet Kalidasa penned this beautifully,

    “For yesterday is but a dream,

    and tomorrow is only a vision,

    but today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness,

    and tomorrow a vision of hope.

    Look well, therefore, to this day!”

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

  • Labour Day Weekend: It’s Not Too Late!

    Labour Day Weekend: It’s Not Too Late!

    Photo by Kyle Glenn/Unsplash

    We in Canada have been celebrating Labour Day since 1894; it has become a national statutory holiday.  Traditionally this day, the first Monday of September, was set aside for honouring laborers of the middle class. On this day there were picnics, parades and activities planned to bring together the laborers in a day of solidarity.

    Things are different now.  Today Labour Day is more about getting the children back into routine for another school year and for catching up on all the summer chores at home.  This has become the weekend when we begin to turn over the garden, pull up the bedding plants and air out the sweaters.  It has become known as the last weekend of the summer.

    But, truth is, the official last day of summer is 2 weeks after Labour Day weekend on September 21st.  That leaves almost 14 more days of warm afternoons at the beach or hiking our favorite trails or reading a good book in the shade of a tree.  The sun does set earlier by September which only creates more time for star gazing or enjoying a late summer campfire.

    The playful butterflies seem to linger in September inviting us all to enjoy the marigolds, Chrysanthemums and late summer roses.  May we accept this invitation and pause long enough to make a few more memories before this summer’s chapter closes.  As William Shakespeare writes, “Summer’s lease hath all too short a date”!

    Happy September,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

  • Sweet Summer Mornings

    Sweet Summer Mornings

    Photo by Torsten Kellermann/Pexels

    Abby, my canine sidekick, and I enjoy starting the day early.  After a quick breakfast Abby is ready to follow me down to the water barrel where I begin to fill watering cans.  The splashing of water seems to wake the birds and slowly they join us with their perfect pitch. With our wagon full of heavy watering cans we follow the softly lit path down to the garden. The next half hour weeds are pulled, vines are placed on poles, roots are watered and, on a good day, fresh vegetables are gathered.

    Each summer day begins with this most enjoyable routine; until recently.  One morning a neighbor snapped a photo of a bear that was meandering down our street, calmly enjoying the sunrise; Abby and I would have been at the garden as he passed by!  A week later I was surprised to see a tall thin fox running down the street and disappear into the forest.  And, if this wasn’t enough, my friend was shocked to cross paths with a porcupine early one morning.

    I decided to play it safe so we stopped our morning routine.  I simply took Abby out on a leash each morning for a few minutes.  It was decided that evenings would be our time in the garden.

    This decision didn’t work out too well.  By the time evening arrived my tiredness would win out and the garden began to show signs of neglect.  Also, restlessness had taken up residence in my soul expressing itself through impatience and tiredness.  My morning routine had grounded me in a quiet time of prayer and solitude that resulted in a profound sense of connectedness with God; I was missing this deeply.  

    So, we bravely re-committed to our much loved morning routine.  Abby and I have been returning the wagon to its place by the water barrel just as the sun’s early rays climb over the horizon. It is with joy that I drink my morning coffee with a touch of dirt under my nails and a happy dog by my feet.   We have not met any wild beasts and if we do, we have decided to simply smile, nod and quietly go about our business.  You see, us early morning types tend not to be very social.

    Rumi wrote, “The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.”  I am grateful that each morning starts with this quiet time; a time when I can listen to the secrets of the breeze.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

  • The Best August, Ever!  

    The Best August, Ever!  

    Photo by by Anne Nygard/Unsplash

    How did we get to the last week of July already? Where has the time gone?  If you were to make this August one of the top 3 Augusts of your life, what would that mean for you?  What would it take to make this an amazing August?

     I would begin by making a list of all the things that would make this my best August. This list would be all things I can control such as: go berry picking then bake a pie, plan a weekly BBQ for my closest friends and family,  sit on the beach and slowly run my toes through the sand, photograph the sunset every day for a week, read a good book in the shade of a tree, roast marshmallow’s over a camp fire, ride my bike in the first rays of the sunrise, eat vegetables straight out of the garden and go star gazing. 

    Next would be my list of ‘Bonus Things’.  This would be a list of things I cannot control but hope to experience such as seeing fire flies, wishing on a falling star, having a bird eat out of my hand, photographing a beautiful butterfly with its wings wide open, and a perfect balance of rain and sun daily to keep everything green and lush.

    Before the arrival of September I would hope to slow life down enough to savor fresh corn, listen deeply to the melody of a buzzing bee and as poet Denise Levertov writes, “Breathe the sweetness that hovers in August.”

    What would be the measure of an amazing August for you?  There are only a few days left to get your list prepared! 

    Happy August Everyone, Rev. Heather McCarrel  

  • A Thieving Neighbour

    A Thieving Neighbour

    Photo by Kulli Kittus/Unsplash

    We have a thief in the neighbourhood.  I know this with certainty because we have caught him, not once but twice, red handed!

    The first time was a Wednesday evening soon after supper.  He was so engrossed in his thievery that he didn’t notice as I drew close enough to almost grab him before he darted away. 

    That evening one of our latest mysteries was solved.  We had been perplexed as to why the hummingbird feeder was empty each morning despite being filled the night prior.  We watched as he greedily lapped up the nectar with much gusto.  We marveled that such a small fella could drink so much.

    Only three days later we again caught this culprit as he continued his crime spree in our backyard.  This time it was the oriole feeder that he unabashedly emptied into his tummy.  For those who do not know what an oriole feeder looks like, it is a round plastic feeder with little divots on top for placing jam and its bottom is filled with hummingbird nectar. 

    This little fellow had climbed the narrow bird feeder pole and by stretching all the way across to the feeder, holding onto the pole by his toes, he expertly spun the feeder each time he emptied a cup of jam.  We were so amazed by his skill we just stood in silence, watching in disbelief as he emptied the entire feeder.

    Once done and most certainly on a sugar high he darted with unimaginable speed through our back yard, jumped up on the raised vegetable garden and disappeared under the metal fencing.

    Every year our backyard fills with chipmunks, black squirrels and these little energetic red squirrels but never before has there been one so wily and daring.  My concern is that he will be setting a bad example for the rest to follow.

    Sadly, due to this one little rascal’s antics the hummingbirds and orioles will not find a warm welcome.  It reminds me of the saying, “One bad apple spoils the whole bunch.”

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel