Stain Glass Lens of the 21st Century

Tag: encouraging

  • Spreading Seeds of Care, Connection, and Community

    Spreading Seeds of Care, Connection, and Community

    The best part of going away is coming home again!  My husband and I took a mini holiday this past week. We decided to spend a few days in a popular destination prior to the height of the tourist season.  The hotel, known for its luxury, didn’t disappoint nor did its reputation for friendly and welcoming staff; we will be going back.  The restaurants were not only full of charming atmosphere, and friendly staff but the food was also delicious.   

    What did surprise me were the tourists.   Folks seemed less friendly then I remember.  If a group of us were in an elevator, no one spoke or when a group of us were in the same tour group one afternoon, everyone was polite but certainly not friendly. It seemed that folks have become more insular, less interested in connecting, even in the slightest way, with others around them.  As I observed this change in human behavior I found myself asking, “When did this start to happen?  Is this the result of too much time spent on social media?  Is this a by-product of the pandemic? ” I was puzzled by what I was witnessing.   

    It wasn’t until our first evening home that the puzzle was solved. We had stopped at the corner store to purchase a bag of milk.  As I was leaving the store a young man fell in step behind me.  He was balancing several bottles of pop and a few bags of potato chips.  There was dust all over him from the top of his work hat, across his work shirt covering most of the logo from a local construction company, and all the way down to his work boots.   He looked to be on his way home from a long day.  Not wanting to slow him down I stepped aside and said, “You go ahead of me, I move rather slow these days.” 

    He responded, “That’s okay.  I’m in no hurry.” 

    He stepped ahead of me and walking through the automated doors he turned and held the door open with his shoulder and said, “Just in case it begins to close on you, I will hold it.”  I smiled and thanked him, knowing he had just solved the puzzle for me. 

    The reason folks down in the city seemed so indifferent to each other is because they don’t live where I live.  In the town I live we hold doors for each other, we smile and chit chat even with strangers and we most certainly care for the other. 

    His actions reminded me of the saying, ‘Humankind: be both!’

    As the first long weekend of the summer arrives may the hospitality of our small communities warm the hearts of the tourists and be carried back to the cities; seeds of care, connection and community.  

    Happy Summer,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Gary Barnes/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

  • 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

  • Summer Sabbeth

    Summer Sabbeth

    Summer worship has always been my favorite kind of Sabbath keeping.  Gone are the early mornings of shoveling, clearing off the car and maneuvering through snow packed streets.  In summer the singing seems brighter, the energy lighter and there is extra time for chit chat and lemonade.  

    And yet, it is easy to get so caught up in the relaxed pace of summer that we forget the most important day of the week; the Sabbath day.  We kid ourselves by believing time spent in nature walking garden paths or hiking forest trails can replace the importance of time in Sabbath. However, to buy into this way of thinking is to rob ourselves of a most profound gift. To witness the beauty of God’s creation is only part of feeding our souls.

    As Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel (1907-1972), author, professor and activist, writes, “Six days a week we wrestle with the world…on the Sabbath we especially care for the seed of eternity planted in the soul… The seventh day is a palace in time which we build.  It is made of soul, of joy and reticence.  In its atmosphere, a discipline is a reminder of the adjacency to eternity.”

    Setting aside one hour to join others in praise, song, scripture, reflection, prayer and fellowship feeds a sacred element of our soul, so ancient in fact,  it can only be nurtured through this Sabbath keeping.  This one hour a week measures immensely in our entire well- being.  As the old hymn goes,

    “Lord, what a change within us one short hour.               Spent in your presence will prevail to make.       What heavy burdens from our bosoms take.                            What parched grounds refresh as with a shower!” (Lord, what a change within us one short hour, by, Richard Chenevix Trench)

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    (Photo of a stain glass window in Owen Sound ON)

  • 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

  • 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

  • Shepherding Sunday

    Shepherding Sunday

    For many Christians this is the week of the annual Shepherding Sunday service.  This is a service when the scripture passages of Jesus calling us his sheep are read alongside the widely loved 23rd Psalm.

    Jesus begins by describing not a good Shepherd but imposters who try to get into the sheepfold acting like a Shepherd but ultimately not caring one ounce about the sheep (John 10:1).  This is a warning that not all humanity is kind, generous or deserving of our trust.  Jesus does offer a list of the characteristics of an authentic Shepherd which include knowing each sheep by name, going ahead of the sheep and sacrificing himself for his sheep.    

    Thing is, once you have met this Good Shepherd it makes all the difference.  When he calls to your heart, you know it and when you begin to hear the melody of his love it becomes the tune that shapes your days.  As author Barb Roose writes, “For me, I find comfort in knowing that beyond what I see in humanity, Jesus is the Good Shepherd who has never let me down.”

    No matter what happens in life, nothing can take us away from our Shepherd; not betrayal, depression, job loss, debt or even death.  Once we become a part of His flock we will never be lost to Him.  We will never be beyond His gaze or His love. 

    And, this is exactly what David was writing about when he wrote the 23rd Psalm.  He had become so acquainted with God while he was a Shepherd that the image of God’s care stayed with David throughout a tumultuous life.  David knew that this Shepherd would never leave him but instead guide him through the valley of the shadow of death, along green pastures, beside still waters and into an eternal dwelling.  David knew, “Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the day of my life…”.

    May we all take time this week to listen deeply for the call of our Shepherd,

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel    

    Photo by Biegun Wschodni/Unsplash