Stain Glass Lens of the 21st Century

Tag: spirituality

  • Luminous Moments

    Luminous Moments

    “Do you have time to go for a drive?”  He added, “There is something really cool I want to show you.”

    Within minutes we were driving out of town, up winding country roads and down narrow one-lane goat trails until we arrived at our destination.  As we closed the car doors, he explained that what stood before me was most likely one of the oldest tree I will ever see.  It was remarkable!  A tall, wide and stately Elm, which in itself is a rarity in these parts. Did you know Elm trees can grow upwards to 120 feet tall?

    Reverently we walked toward this ancient tree and as I laid my palm upon the bark my son explained how, by chance, he came upon this old tree tucked in the edge of an untouched ancient forest along the curve of an old country lane-way.

    My son had spent a summer working for the Grey Sauble Conservation Authority, and it was the wee creek that ran beside that tree that had brought him out to this forgotten place.  He was tasked with the job of gathering water samples from all the little, out-of-the-way waterways.

    The tall grass and over grown vines told me that not many had traveled by this marvelous tree, which made me admire it even more; a hidden gem!   Perhaps its hidden place had protected it from the dreaded Dutch Elm Disease.

    This old tree has grown so old it is now starting to part in two. Down the middle of its trunk was a large dark cervix measuring somewhere between 4 feet high to 2 feet wide.  With a tone of wonder I said, “Look, it is a doorway to another dimension.  Perhaps we would find Narnia if we dared to enter!”

    My son’s days of such fantastic play are well behind him; I hope only for a time.  He turned and got back into the car but I didn’t want to leave quite yet- the tree and I had just met.  I tried to walk the width of the tree but could not due to the bushes and vines that have grown up around it. I stood in silence trying to imagine all the history this tree had lived through and then, as a final gesture, I ran my hand through its large rippled leaves.

    As we drove away I thanked my son for introducing me to this fine old tree and he shared that the day he discovered it he too stood in awe of its beauty and size, “isn’t nature full of amazing surprises?”

    John O Donohue, Catholic Priest and poet, was wide awake to God’s beauty in nature.  In his book,  “The Invisible Embrace: Beauty” he writes, “Every life is braided with luminous moments.” 

    As we move back into the busyness of life may we remember to pause long enough to look around for God’s beauty and to be moved by God’s luminous moments!

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

  • Father’s Day

    Father’s Day

    This story is being shared in honour of Pride Month and also in honour of Father’s Day, it is shared with permission. 

    He was one of 14 youth who had gathered that morning.  All were struggling with life in one way or another, and I had been asked to come and speak about spirituality.

    We moved the chairs into the middle of the room, with the sectional couch making up the lion’s share of our attempted circle.  Some lounged on the sectional, while others sat rigid on the chairs, and two nervously paced the room.

    For the ice breaker, I had prepared a game of “Would You Rather?”  Asking questions such as “Would you rather be able to fly or be invisible?” and everyone would share their answers.  As we moved along in the game, I deliberately made the questions more thought provoking; “Would you rather go without your cell phone or laptop?”, “Would you rather meet God alone in an elevator or in a crowd on the street?”

    This last question brought much discussion and several of those lounging sat up. One of those sitting on a chair jumped to his feet and boisterously answered, “Oh I would want God alone, he has a lot to answer for!” Many echoed similar sentiments. 

    I ventured to say, “You can have God alone, any time you want.  Does anyone know what I am talking about?”  They blankly looked back at me. “I am talking about prayer.”

    After all the laughter and joking ended, I said “I am serious.  How many of you have ever uttered a prayer to God?”

    “I have told God to F-Off lots of time!” One youth offered, others either laughing or nodding in agreement.

    After much discussion, I offered to end our time in a collective prayer with everyone helping. I started,  

    “Dear Creator, we know you are here with us but sometimes you seem so silent, so absent that it is hard for us to believe you even exist. Today we come to you in prayer, each of us bringing our own stuff.  Please listen now as we share our stuff with you….”.

    I then tossed a tennis ball to the youth beside me. After she added a short line she then passed the ball along; this happened until all who wanted to add to our prayer had done so.

    I ended the prayer saying, “Thank-you God, Father and Mother of us all.  May we feel your peaceful and loving arms around us as we go from here today.  Amen.”

    They silently got up and left the room, except one youth who had curled up in the corner of the sectional.  He sobbed so loudly it seemed to embarrass him. He tried to stifle his anguish.

    I moved my chair a bit closer and quietly asked “Do you want to talk?”

    “I have never prayed before and it hit me in my gut. It hit me hard.”  He sniffed then added “You called God my Father, but I hate my Father. He beat me every chance he got.  He said he was beating “the gay” out of me. But he never did succeed; I’m still gay.”

    My heart hit my throat and I almost teared up.   

    He continued, “If God is like my dad then I want nothing to do with him.”

    I nodded, what he said made sense. Who wants an abusive and cruel God?

    Quietly I said, “You are wonderfully made by a great God.  You are one of God’s masterpieces and God loves you.”   

    He froze at the thought, trying to absorb the meaning of my words.

    Continuing I suggested, “Perhaps God could be your new Father. The one who loves you deeply, never leaves you and is always listening.”

    “Yeah, maybe.”  He said

    Then after a silent pause he added, “I like that idea.  God as my Father, that does help me feel better.”

    He asked for a Bible, so I gave him one marking the sections he should read first, and before we parted, we again shared in a prayer.

    A couple of months later I bumped into him. He looked entirely different!  His big smile told me he was well.  He informed me he had his own apartment, was going to the local college and had a part time job.

    “My new Father and I talk daily, I have been reading his books and you have no idea how much of a difference it has made.”

    Actually, just by looking at him, I had a pretty good idea what a difference it was making.

    Every year, when Father’s Day rolls around, I think of this young man and say a prayer in his honour, hoping him and his new Father are still in daily conversation!

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Dulcey Lima/Unsplash

  • What’s A Weed?

    What’s A Weed?

    Once I read that the best way to keep your lawn weed free was by keeping it thick with grass; by seeding regularly it keeps the lawn too thick for weeds to land, root and take over.

    So, I seeded my lawn yesterday.  There was no fertilizer or hours spent replenishing the soil before seeding. I simply walked the length and width of my yard with a hand held seeder releasing the seeds as evenly as I could. Once the seeds were down I then stomped around my yard pressing the seeds into the soil so they would stay put.  As I did so several neighbors drove by, honked their horns and waved, presumably mumbling, “What is she up to now?”

    Thing is, I actually like weeds!  To me there is nothing more beautiful than a lawn taken over by dandelions and I have a rule, if it is green it can grow on my lawn.  However, my neighbors feel differently.

    One summer a neighbor, who has an obvious green thumb, was discovered standing in the middle of my front lawn remorsefully looking around. I watched from my front window knowing it could not be good news.  Sure enough a plant by the name “Creeping Charlie” had taken root in my lawn and was now creeping over to his lawn.  I was handed a tub and instructed upon its use so to end Charlie’s travels.

    I handed it back courageously and said, “Charlie is welcome here!”  Apparently my neighbor isn’t as inclusive!  (I have a hard rule against chemical warfare)

    To be fair this neighbor’s yard and flower beds are so impressive his house has been on the “Tour of Gardens” and he spends many a summer evening giving ‘wanna be’ gardeners lessons.   My yard is “the vain of his existence” but, I would like to offer a re-framing.  Anyone can grow beautiful flowers in perfect conditions.  My yard is like the ultimate challenge; it proves what a pro he really is.  He should be thanking me!

    He is a good and kind neighbor and as Jesus so clearly instructed, the most important commandment is to love the Lord you God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.  The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.” (Matthew 13:29-31)

    So for my neighbor’s sake I seeded my lawn yesterday.  As I marched up and down my front lawn I did so with a bit more gusto then required with hopes all would notice my efforts at keeping Charlie and the dandelions out!

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Steven Cordes/Unsplash

  • Time to Flaneur

    Time to Flaneur

    Now that these warm and sunny days have arrived the time has come to flaneur about!  Have you ever flaneured?  Sure you have!

    In fact about the same time each weekday afternoon a group of us flaneur through Harrison Park in Owen Sound.  We don’t really know each other very well, meeting each afternoon with a nod, a smile and a “How are you doing today?”  Our dogs sniff at each other, wag their tales and then we flaneur on for another day!

    Flaneuring is a French word which originated in the nineteenth century and it referred to a well-to-do man, usually a Parisian, who would stroll through the streets leisurely observing his everyday surroundings finding beauty in the ordinary and the mundane. 

    Today flaneuring has become a deliberate habit of healthy living.  As Erika Owen writes in her book, The Art of Flaneuring, “ the objective of a flaneur is to enjoy the journey for what it is-to look outward and let what you see influence your inward thoughts, to be a part of the scenery while also taking a moment to deeply appreciate the environment that surrounds you.”

    Flaneuring is to wander with intention.  It isn’t a walk to the bank or to the post office; instead it is a deliberate time of just walking, breathing and taking in the scenery.

    This deliberate time of strolling is a time of renewal, refreshment and a time when the world becomes a source of great wonder!

    May we all take time during this Lenten Season to flaneur our way to awe!

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    The photo with this Blog was taken by Annie Spratt used with permission/Unsplash

  • Never Go Negative!

    Never Go Negative!

    When we bought our home it came with a few extra treasures such as an armoire in the attic, gardening tools in the garage and an old thermometer screwed into the outside kitchen window frame facing inward.

    For over 20 years this thermometer was checked daily indicating whether a jacket was needed or not.  That was until mid-February 2020 when a huge chunk of ice fell off the roof taking the thermometer with it.   

    A few days later we replaced it with a brand model from Home Depot and things have never been the same since.

    After a few days of waiting for the new thermometer to kick into action my husband went outside and gave it a hardy shake – that seemed to do very little.  A couple more days later I went, unhooked it and brought it inside.  As I leaned it on the counter the little arrow sprang into action and within no time it read +22o Celsius.

    We decided after a night or two inside it was time for it to go back out and do its job.  Even before we were done hooking it into place the little arrow went to 0o Celsius, wobbled and settled into place.

    By mid-March the days warmed and we discovered this thermometer would follow the temperature upward but never below 0o; as if taking a stand against any kind of negativity, it simply would not read any temperature below 0o!

    As the COVID lockdown moved from weeks into months and autumn returned we once again began depending on this thermometer.  And yet, each morning it refused to share any negative news!  So, a few weeks before Christmas, while at Home Depot, my husband and I found ourselves standing in front of a row of shiny new thermometers and I ask, “Do you want to get a new one?” 

    After a long pause he replied, “I kinda like the one we have.”

     I nodded, “Me too.”

    And we left all the obedient thermometers behind.

    In these mid-January days of chilly weather our stubborn thermometer has been reading 0o even on the coldest of days.  

    It has become a daily reminder for us to “Never Go Negative” but instead find ways to buoy our spirits.  I have discovered one little ditty that lifts my spirits well above 0o:

    “Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, Zip-a-dee-ay.

    My, oh, my, what a wonderful day.

    Plenty of sunshine headin’ my way,

    Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay!”

    May you find ways to lift your spirits so that you “Never Go Negative” until the spring birds return singing of snowdrops, daffodils and tulips.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    The photo with this Blog was taken one evening this week of the thermometer. 

  • A Season For Everything

    We have been enjoying a rather balmy January along these southern shores of Georgian Bay and along the sandier shores of Lake Huron.  Balmy as in temperatures hovering around 0 to -7 degrees Celsius.  This is so warm for us that I saw a guy in shorts the other day!

    Abby, my canine sidekick, and I have been lingering longer on our daily walks listening to the gurgling of the unfrozen rivers, the dripping of icicles and the gathering of chatty birds.  It was all fun and games until Sunday afternoon. 

    On Sunday afternoon my enjoyment turned to concern when both my husband I noticed unseasonal buds forming on a tree along our pathway.  Upon closer investigation we noticed other trees along the trail were also beginning to wake early from what should be a long winter’s nap.

    As we pulled into our driveway, we were alarmed to notice the crocuses had already begun to grow and were at least an inch above ground (the photo with today’s Blog)!  This took us back 9 years ago when the fruit industry in Ontario and Quebec were devasted by a mild winter.  It was the apple orchards hit particularly hard because the buds formed way too early and by mid-March the blossoms started appearing and in April a terrific frost killed off an entire years’ worth of fruit.  

    As the Author of Ecclesiastes writes, “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens…” (Ecclesiastes 3:1).  This is an ancient wisdom teaching us to trust in the rhythm of life.  There is a time for things to grow, a time to thrive, and a time to rest.  When we mess with that rhythm terrible things can happen.

    It is the same with people.  There is a time to be together and a time to let them go.  It isn’t wise to try to hold onto something or someone longer then the season allows, and it makes life a sad affair if we spend our time yearning for things that have yet to come or if their time has passed.

    As a Mother I have had to learn this the hard way.  As each of my children have grown and started lives of their own, I have had to let them go; out into a world I cannot control. To hold them here, safely at home, would have stunted their growth and they would have missed out on what God had in store for them.

    It takes trust in God to release those we love.  Knowing God goes with us wherever we go makes the parting easier and aids us to take the necessary steps in new directions.

    I have decided to trust God with the crocuses and apple trees promising not to complain when the north wind returns; understanding its chilly breezes renders the trees and flowers back to their necessary winter repose.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

  • A COVID Christmas

    A COVID Christmas

    Like everyone else around the globe we are having a COVID Christmas this year.  For those of us living in Ontario the government has set guidelines for our gatherings, only those who live in our household or those in our “Bubble” can celebrate Christmas together.

    For my husband and I it means this year we won’t be pulling the dining room table to its fullest length and fitting in all the leaves.  It means we won’t be going around the house gathering all the available chairs and placing them snugly around the dining room.   It means we won’t be preparing a meal for 17-20 folks or cleaning up all the dishes, cutlery and stemware of 17-20 folks!

    We won’t be spending time this holiday season lined up in stuffy stores to either purchase unnecessary gifts or return them. 

    In fact, I have so fully embraced the simplicity of this COVID Christmas I didn’t even get out any Christmas decorations; not one!  Instead I went to the local Walmart and bought a pre-lit 3 foot imitation tree, which, after some garland and plastic decorations looks mighty nice sitting on top of a table in my living room. The plastic decorations will make it easier to put this tree away.  One clear plastic garbage bag should do the trick: cover the tree and away it goes.  Next Christmas when we return to a house full of decorations and a table full of guests this little tree will be used to brighten up a small corner on our second floor.

     If I dwelled on it I would be sad during this COVID Christmas; missing my children, wider family, church services and all the busyness of a typical Christmas season. But, what good would that do me?  Instead I have decided to embrace this COVID Christmas. While at the grocery store I purchased a few extra treats and my husband and I were reminiscing on how romantic it will be.  Like our first few years of marriage when it was only our dog, cat and the two of us.  Now, three children, three dogs and four cats later we have arrived full circle to a quieter Christmas!

    It also helps to remember we are not alone, everyone is having to pare down their Christmas this year and we are certain next Christmas we will be celebrating enough to make up for two Christmases!

    And, as for all the money we will be saving this Christmas.   In every community there are opportunities to donate to worthy causes, families that haven’t fared well during this pandemic and front line workers who are exhausted to the point of burnout.  The opportunities to be the hands, feet and heart of Christ are everywhere. 

    How about you?  Have you decided to embrace this once in a lifetime Christmas?  And, despite COVID have you found ways to mark this holiest of seasons? I certainly hope so!

    Wishing you the spirit of Christmas which is peace, the blessing of Christmas which is hope and the heart of Christmas which is love!

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    The photo with this Blog is of my COVID Christmas tree !

  • We Will Remember Them…

    We Will Remember Them…

    In the three years I served as their Student Minister we only sang the hymn Amazing Grace once and that one time taught me a powerful lesson. By the time we got to the second verse,“’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved;” only my voice could be heard.

    I looked up from the pulpit and saw an unforgettable sight.  Some had sat down while others grabbed a tissue from the passing tissue box, many were wiping tears from their eyes or blowing their noses.  The pianist and I exchanged nervous glances as I continued to sing; part way through the third verse we stopped all together.

    Later, during fellowship, I gently inquired about their response to this hymn.   One of the older women quietly said, “To this day I can still see that small jeep that would drive through the village.”  The others nodded and another woman shared, “I recall the day that jeep came and parked in front of our house; my mother started crying before she even answered the door.”

    “Yes, the day we heard about Max it was that jeep.  That day they came about the Smith’s son and the McGregor’s son as well.  It was a sad day indeed.” This from one of the old timers who usually didn’t say much, then while wiping a tear from his cheek he added, “That hymn, Amazing Grace, takes me back to the war years and the news that jeep would bring.”

    After a pause he said, “It was just before supper and I recall standing by the stove to mind the potatoes while my Mother answered the door, I can still hear her scream.  We ran down to the garage to get our Father but he was half way up the lane, he had seen the jeep stop at our house, he knew what we had feared.”

    Looking straight at me one of the women shared, “Everyone would freeze with fear when that jeep came into the village; afraid it would be their family receiving the bad news.”

    She added, “Then we would gather in the cemetery and old Alec would play the hymn “Amazing Grace” on his trumpet as we added names to the war memorial. A village our size never forgets this kind of grief.  We almost lost an entire generation of young men by the time the war ended.”

    The room fell silent as I pieced together this collective memory of my parishioners, a military  jeep that delivered death notices and the grief relived as we sang the hymn “Amazing Grace.”

    I turned to one of the granddaughters who was savvy with computers and asked, “If we were to get photos of the young men who died could you create a power point for us?”  She was excited by the challenge, so the next two weeks was spent gathering the photos and, on the Sunday, closest to Remembrance Day we all came to see what she had created.

    1940’s band music played in background while uniform clad youth smiled back at us, many of them standing in front of familiar houses. 

    This time I was ready with Kleenex boxes in each pew and tables set up at the front of the sanctuary to hold framed pictures of beloved family members who had served in the armed forces or air forces.  One family brought in an entire uniform which was laid out while another family brought in cherished letters from the front lines.

    There was no sermon that day; valuable time was spent in hearing the stories of each young man and there were plenty of sacred pauses as we read off the Rolls and listened to the Last Post and Rouse. 

    I have made a point to honour Remembrance Day every year since, no matter which church I serve.  It is important to honour the lives and sacrifices made by those who laid down their lives, so we can live so freely and abundantly. Jesus tells us, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:13)

    Join us this Sunday at Port Elgin United as we take time to honour those who have served and those who are serving.  We will not have time for the full Legion Service but will join them, via YouTube on November 11th, 2020.  This Sunday we will sing of peace, pray for understanding and pause to share in a PowerPoint presentation of those who have served. Plan on joining us!

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    The Photo with today’s Blog was taken by Ian Taylor

  • Meshed Hope!

    Meshed Hope!

    One of the most hope filled actions is to plant spring bulbs on a cold, windy and wet autumn afternoon.  With dark clouds overhead and whispers from the approaching North wind I set out with spade in hand ready to plant 2 dozen tulips and 20 daffodil bulbs.

    Remembering the advice of one of my rural parishioners I didn’t use my bare hands but instead wore gloves caked with mud.   As I bent down by the flower bed there was a slight shake of the maple leaves in the tree behind me, I didn’t pay it any mind.  After the 3rd bulb was carefully placed in the soil a high pitch nattering began.  At first, I carried on and planted a couple more bulbs but soon the nattering changed to a more excited pitch and I turned to see what was causing the commotion.  That was when everything went quiet.  From where I knelt on the wet grass I could not pinpoint exactly where the racket had been coming from.

    So, back to planting I went and soon stood up proud of all that I had accomplished.  The newly planted bulbs were safely nestled under the rich dark soil.  All that was left for me to do was wait patiently for their spring debut.

    Or so I thought.  This naivety lasted only 2 hours!  By then my husband was home and as supper baked in the oven we went to look at the flowerbeds.  To my horror, I discovered only holes where each bulb and been laid.  The interesting thing was not all of the soil was dug up, just the spots that had held a bulb. 

    I turned to my husband and in awe said, “It’s as if someone watched me and knew the exact spot of each bulb.”  Then I remembered the high pitch nattering.  It must have been those squirrels yelling out to each other the exact location of each bulb, “Latitude: 44°34′01″ N, Longitude: 80°56′36″ W and Elevation above sea level: 180 m = 590 ft” or perhaps these cheeky little pests use GPS (I wouldn’t put anything past them).

    “Game on!’’ I muttered.  The next morning I returned home early from Home Hardware with heavy artillery.  A new bag of bulbs, heavy woven metal mesh and some tent pegs!  With much relish I planted each new bulb taking time to hold them up, admire their beauty and then carefully tuck them away for a deep winter’s sleep.

    Once completed and after cutting the mesh to the right dimensions I pegged it over all the innocent bulbs.  As I shook the dirt off my gloves a black squirrel in the maple tree caught my eye.  He had been watching me all the while.  

    Try as he may, he can’t take my hope of spring flowers away this time!

    The entire ordeal reminded me of the words of Anne Lamott, “Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come…. You don’t give up.”

    So, during these pandemic days may we all mesh in our hope so nothing in all the world can steal it from us until the dawn breaks and these COVID-19 days are behind us.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    The Photo with today’s Blog was taken by Mayank Gaur, used with permission/Unsplash

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  • Comfy Escape

    Comfy Escape

    Do you have a favorite place to escape when life becomes a bit overwhelming? 

    I recently rediscovered old stomping grounds that have brought me much enjoyment.  During my first return we celebrated a birthday and the second was even more exciting as we searched for Heffalumps and Woozles!  The 100 Acres Woods hasn’t changed in the 20 years since my last visit; Pooh Bear, Piglet, Christopher Robin and the rest of the gang were still up to their silly antics and they welcomed me back as if I had never left.

    One friend of mine retreats to Walnut Grove at least once a year and revisits Laura Ingles-Wilder while another returns to Jan Karon’s Mitford series every November and another has a shelf of books she re-reads yearly. This shelf holds favorite books that were her mother’s and when she sits in the pool of lamplight it is as though her mother sits with her sharing in the adventures of Gladys Taber on her rural farm filled with dogs, wild life and gardens. 

    It is not only healthy but essential we find ways during these pandemic days to fill our soul with comfort and familiarity.  Recently, I discovered a radio station that plays only music from the 1970s, music from the simpler days of my childhood.  These tunes transport me back to summer days of lazing in the sun and hanging out with my girlfriends reminding me of a carefree life that once was mine.  Some have taken to creating their own play lists filling their lives with music that brings happiness and peace.

    Ann Lamott, author and essayist, writes of the island she retreats to when life becomes overwhelming, her couch! With her favorite blanket, cup of tea and a good book she settles in for a long stay putting the world on hold while she safely floats on her island of calming comforts.

    Meik Wiking in his book, The Little Book of Hygge: The Danish Way to Live Well, writes about the importance of creating a hyggekrog which roughly translates as ‘a nook’ in your home. This comfy place is a place where you relax away from the world; it does not have a TV and should not be confused with the TV or living room. Wiking created a hyggekrog in his kitchen window seat by adding cushions and a blanket. We decided to follow Wiking’s lead and created a hyggekrog nook in our home. With the purchase of a new love seat and the rearranging of some other furnishings the space in front of our fireplace was transformed and it has become our favorite place in the house.

    Whether it be a book, piece of music or a safe location I encourage you find your own island of comfort that beacons you to smile, relax and trust that all will be well.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    The photo with this Blog was taken by Paige Cody, used with permission/Unsplash