Sunday, 23 December 2012

This Night of Wondrous Nights



He walks through the dark, unfamiliar streets, isolated and alone,
a young man starting out in life so far away from home.
No Christmas tree to call his own, no friends nor family;
his only warmth is an empty room and some treasured memories.
The door of a church stands open wide, beckoning him inside.
The soft, sweet sound of carollers stops him in his stride.
With hopeful heart he enters, dispelling gloom with light.
Strangers now are family, this night of wondrous nights.
 
In a dim and dismal tenement on the lower end of town
a single mom with naught but love gently lays her baby down.
Silently a teardrop falls, an expression of despair;
she sees the twinkling lights outside but feels that no one cares.
With barely any food to feed herself and hungry child,
no money for life’s basic needs, much less for presents piled.
Then comes a knock upon the door, her neighbours smiling bright,
invite her to share Christmas this night of wondrous nights.

In the hot, harsh sand of a foreign land torn apart by strife
a soldier holds a little girl who clings precariously to life.
Their worlds are vastly different, yet now forever intertwined;
the horror she has witnessed she cannot leave behind.
No one else can ease her pain, so for days now he has stayed there,
cuddling, consoling, comforting her to soothe away the fear.
With a gentle touch he reaches out to try to bring some light
into the darkness of her life, this night of wondrous nights.

A mother, lost in memories past, sits in her rocking chair
fondling recalling days gone by when she held her babies there.
A happy family gathered ‘round sing songs of joyous glee;
while far away sweet tiny tots place an angel on the tree.
An old man kneels in reverence before a bed of straw;
soon he is joined by others, each filled with wonder and awe.
The world awaits the Gift of Love bathed in glowing light;
God with us, Emmanuel, on this night of wondrous nights.

Monday, 17 December 2012

Innocence Lost


From the time I first learned to read, in the days of innocence, I have always been fascinated by the power of words to evoke images, convey meaning, and stimulate the imagination.  That is, until Friday, December 14, 2012. The words I heard and the images they created in my imagination on that day brought only horror and sorrow in mind-numbing waves of shock.  Innocence and innocents died on that day when unspeakable evil came to Newtown, Connecticut.

“This can’t be happening,” was the global thought as breaking news bulletins spread the sad message around the world that twenty little children and six courageous teachers fell victim to a merciless spray of bullets in a heinous act of violence.  Words, then, became too painful to bear as the collective mind of humanity recoiled from the blow of hell’s fury.

Lyrics from a Gordon Lightfoot classic have been reverberating through my brain since this story first began to unfold:  “Does anyone know where the love of God goes…?”  I don’t presume to have an answer to that question, but it continues to force its way into my consciousness nonetheless.  I can only hope – yes, and pray, too – that God’s plan for this world never included such a slaughter.  Ironically, Scripture tells us that around the time of Jesus’ birth, Herod, after hearing tales of the arrival of a new King, ordered a massacre of young children in an effort to eradicate a possible usurper of his throne.  The Christian Church remembers this event annually in December as the Feast of the Holy Innocents.  It takes on new significance now as the wailing of parents from 2000 years ago is echoed today in small town America.

Shock, sadness, grief and anger have consumed millions of ordinary people over the last few days as they struggle to process the pain of this horrific deed.  Going forward, determination to eliminate weapons such as those used in this attack from mainstream society should be the driving force of all citizenry.  Guns capable of firing hundreds of bullets in succession should be prohibited to the exclusive domain of the military or law enforcement; permitting them to be purchased by private individuals (for whatever reason) is absolutely ludicrous.  The right to bear arms has obviously been taken too far. 

It will take a concerted effort to bring about stricter gun regulations in the land of the free, but what alternative is there?  Schools were never meant to be killing grounds. 

Sunday, 2 December 2012

The Forgotten Season


Advent is the forgotten season.  Although the four weeks preceding Christmas are meant to be a period of waiting and preparation, our busy modern lifestyle often skips right over this season and we tend to lose sight of its significance.  Advent is rich in beautiful symbolism, heralding the beginning of the liturgical year with traditions that date back at least to the Middle Ages.  The Advent wreath, usually a circle of evergreen boughs, signifies unity and enduring life.  The three purple candles, the color associated with royalty, represent the Prince of Peace while the rose candle is a symbol of joy and is lit on the Third Sunday of Advent as we rejoice at the nearness of the Christmas celebration.  In some Churches, the celebrant also wears rose colored vestments at Mass on that Sunday.  Now that’s certainly something to look forward to!

The four weekly themes of Advent – HOPE, PEACE, JOY and LOVE – invite us to deeper reflection on their meaning.  Are they merely words or do we see them as guideposts for life?

It seems we live our lives in fast forward, always thinking, planning and jumping ahead without ever actually stopping to savour the present.  Our secular world perpetuates this accelerated pace and we, for the most part, buy into it hook, line and sinker.  In mid-July, the rush is on to gather all those back to school supplies so that our kids will have a good head start on the new school year.  When school finally re-opens, the store shelves are filled with pumpkins, candy and Halloween costumes.  By the time the trick or treaters come to our door, the malls are aglow with Christmas trees and trimmings while carols blare incessantly in every store.  The solemn marking of Remembrance Day often gets lost in the hurry to install Santa’s workshop in the center court.  Our ears, minds, and wallets are bombarded with Christmas commercialism long before the Christ Child’s birthday celebration comes along.

With hardly a moment to catch a breath between each well-advertised shopping season, is it any wonder that we have lost the fine art of anticipation?  We’ve become so good at putting the cart before the horse that we have somehow managed to deprive ourselves of the wonder of the journey!  I recall a simpler time when the world seemed less hectic than it does now.  Take Advent calendars for example:  once upon a time, they held little paper windows which you could fold back each day, and behind each window was a good deed which had to be fulfilled to help prepare yourself for the coming of Jesus.  Today’s version offers paper windows which open up to reveal chocolate and, of course, many children nowadays don’t know what it’s like to wait for anything so they often eat the whole supply of chocolate in one day.

We’ve been conditioned to reject waiting.  Why should we wait for anything anymore?  We live in a world of instant text messaging, instant information at our fingertips via the internet, smart phones, ipads, and live TV to keep us constantly in touch with breaking news updates complete with video streaming – heck, most of us don’t even read newspapers or magazines anymore because the printed message is obsolete by the time we get it.  So, why bother with Advent?  How could it possibly help us to prepare for and better appreciate the gift of Christmas?

Look at it this way.  A beautiful wedding celebration, for example, doesn’t just happen.  It usually involves quite a bit of preparation and planning before we all gather to celebrate that very special occasion. Christmas, too, takes up a great deal of our time as we prepare the house, select the perfect gifts for those on our list, choose a turkey or ham, put up the tree and decorations, etc.  Yet, sometimes the real meaning of the celebration gets lost in the hustle and bustle.  That’s where Advent can help us slow down and prepare our hearts for Christmas.

Most of us start the day with a cup of tea or coffee – if we turn off the morning news and spend a few minutes giving thanks for the new day while we enjoy that cup of java, it just might bring a different perspective to our lives.  Food Banks are especially in need of assistance at this time of the year – perhaps a financial donation or an offering of time to deliver food hampers or gifts might be something that you are able to do this year.  Maybe something as simple as a smile or a friendly greeting to a stranger could lighten that person’s load today.  Perhaps a brief time carved out of your busy day for quiet prayer or reflection is achievable at this stage of your life.  Never underestimate its power to change the way you look at things.

When the challenges of daily life weigh heavy on your shoulders, when you or someone you care about receives a dreaded diagnosis, when a friend is brought to her knees by too many burdens, when you are caught in the sandwich generation worrying about aging parents and growing kids, when you and your spouse seem to come from different planets, when your teenager races headlong down the wrong path, when a grown son or daughter struggles to find employment, even when the hurt is too deep for words,…. Take it to Him.

When a little child’s spontaneous smile brightens your day, when a friend gives you a just-because hug, when a song on the radio brings back happy memories, when your life has been blessed by the presence of a loving, loyal animal companion, when a single brave tulip peeps out through a mound of snow and finally announces an end to winter, when an adult offspring says, “I’m sorry I was such a pain in the *** when I was growing up”, …. Take it to Him.

So, the next time you find yourself in a panic because there are only “x” number of shopping days left until Christmas, STOP….., take a deep breath, and thank God for the greatest gift any of us will ever really need – the gift of love given to us at Christmas.  Enjoy your Advent!

 

 

Saturday, 1 December 2012

Life's Video Screen


I recently witnessed the exchange of wedding vows between my eldest son and the woman he loves.  In those few moments, a myriad of thoughts and images went through my mind – the sound of his first cry, the wondrous experience of caressing his tiny fingers for the first time, the sheer joy of holding him close to my heart seconds after his birth.  It seemed as if his whole life thus far played across a video screen which only I could see while he pledged his love and commitment forever to his beautiful bride.

Where have all the years gone, I wondered, as I marvelled at the sincerity of emotion expressed by this handsome young groom.  Pride, joy, happiness and gratitude to God for the gift of life and love filled my heart as my son and his wife sealed their covenant through vows and the giving of rings.  A smile touched my lips when I saw him discreetly wipe away a single tear from the corner of his eye.  I’m not ashamed to admit that I did a lot of blinking to ease the moisture from my own lashes, and even my husband’s dark brown eyes, so like our son’s, were suspiciously damp as well. 

Sons # 2 and 3, usually a pair of bantering, fun-loving participants at social events, wore thoughtful expressions as they stood by their brother’s side to witness his marriage.  The three of them made a striking picture and, once again, that video screen of my mind’s eye replayed vivid images of three little boys from the past. 

The bride’s parents and her four lovely sisters, along with a brother-in-law and precious baby niece, completed our expanding family circle on that special day as we all shared in the union of these two wonderful young people.  Just one more loving memory to cherish along the journey of life!

Friday, 9 November 2012

Remembrance


What flaw within the human heart breeds narrow-minded intolerance?
Belligerence, aggression its wicked fruits, culminate in freedom’s decadence.
Youth of the world answer the call when the snake of oppression strikes;
In hot harsh sands and foreign lands flows their blood in crimson tides.

With pounding hearts and fear-filled eyes, they stand to meet the foe,
Knowing full well their lives they give to defeat the bearer of woe.
Bigotry and hatred meet their match in democracy’s courageous stance;
The forces of good and evil sway in the grip of war’s vicious dance.

Through tears and heartache, we honour the brave who relinquish their hold on life
To thwart the antagonist’s toxic crush and bring an end to strife.
When tyranny claims the souls of men, its tentacles extinguish light;
The valiant then rise proud and strong in defence of moral right.

The heroes of yesteryear and those of today are forever etched within love’s heart.
We mourn the loss of their smile and their touch; all too soon we were forced to part.
In remembrance, they plead that we take up the cause to ease suffering and pain
So that others might live in freedom and peace; then their sacrifice has not been in vain.

 

Y.M. Tucker ~Author

Tuesday, 30 October 2012

Dreams Do Come True


As a child, I recall having a recurring dream in which I found myself out in public dressed in only my pajamas.  I always woke up in a state of panic from that dream, but greatly relieved that it wasn’t reality.  Nowadays, colorful pj’s seem to be the garment of choice for many young women and girls as they go about their daily business.

I see them in the mall, strolling down the street, and even pushing shopping carts through the supermarket wearing bright flannel pajama pants decorated with sheep, clouds, hearts, teddy bears and the like.  The accompanying little tank tops often leave little to the imagination, yet no one seems shocked or offended at the sight of people out in public in their nightwear.  Apparently, none of them ever suffered from nocturnal embarrassment as I did.

Several weeks ago, I was all ready for bed when my husband reminded me that we had planned to fill up both vehicles in anticipation of a significant jump in gasoline prices the next morning.  Oh, darn, now I have to change my clothes, I thought.  But, then, a little devil on my shoulder whispered, “Why bother?  No one’s going to know what you’re wearing when you’re just sitting in the car.”  So, I listened to the imp and headed for the gas station in my navy polka dot pajamas.

There was a bit of a line-up at the pumps but I didn’t really mind as I was happily singing along at the top of my lungs to a catchy tune from the past on satellite radio.  Can’t beat that old time rock ‘n roll.  “Fill ‘er up,” I said to the attendant when my turn finally came.  Then it dawned on me that I didn’t have any cash in my purse, so I would have to get out of the vehicle to use my debit card – in my pajamas.  Crap! 

Feeling mortified, I opened the car door, put one foot out and noticed that it was encased in a fluffy pink slipper.  Since it wasn’t likely that I could speed away without paying, I swallowed my pride and stepped outside the safe confines of my car into the glaring headlights of other vehicles in the line-up.  Unlike the big city where you pay at the pump, here consumers have to walk to a little kiosk on the gas station grounds to pay for their purchase.  Those pink slippers felt like concrete boots and the white polka dots on my pajamas reflected glare as if they were illuminated by neon bulbs.  It was the longest 20 foot walk of my life. 

Now that I’m sufficiently recovered from the experience of exhibitionism, I can finally talk about it.  At least I’ve discovered that dreams really do come true.  Pity!

Sunday, 14 October 2012

Free-fallin'


Fearless Felix did it!  With “the whole world watching”, he jumped out of a capsule into a free-fall from over 128,000 feet above the earth’s surface, hurtling himself into space at a speed of nearly 700 miles per hour.  To think that any human being would even consider travelling that distance in a mere capsule suspended from a helium balloon is mind boggling, but then to jump out of it is unfathomable.  Like the rest of the world, I watched the TV screen in a state of near paralysis as he stepped out of the capsule and stood for a few seconds on the platform before taking the ultimate plunge.  Thank God the live news feed was blocked out at that second or I might have gone into an unplanned free-fall myself.

What an inspiration!  Yet, Mr. Baumgartner didn’t just take a willy-nilly leap of faith into thin air.  He carefully planned for this event over a period of five years and sought the advice and expertise of many aeronautical professionals before attempting the big dive.  His efforts culminated, therefore, not in a daredevil stunt, but in a masterful combination of scientific knowledge, personal ingenuity, and undeniable bravery.  Call him crazy or courageous, he at least dared to dream big and he had the gumption to turn that dream into reality.  I doubt that very many people will be lining up to take a stab at breaking his records anytime soon.  As for me, the closest I’ll come to achieving anything similar will be if I can conquer my claustrophobia the next time I fly the friendly skies in a conventional aircraft. 

Way to go, Felix.  As Capt. Kirk might say, you have boldly gone where no one has gone before.

 

“I’m gonna free-fall, out into nothin’
Gonna leave this world for awhile
And I’m free, free-fallin’
Yeah, I’m free, free-fallin’”
(Tom Petty/Jeff Lynne)

Friday, 12 October 2012

I'm Not Ready!


“OMG!  Noooooo!  I’m not ready yet,” was the supplication which spilled forth from my lips upon rising this morning.  Overnight, I had heard the howling wind and I drew the curtains to block out the swirling snow, but I really didn’t think there would be any amount of accumulation yet.  Wrong!  Several centimetres of the white stuff now cover everything in sight and the poor potted plants on my deck have been strangled by the icy grip of old Jack Frost himself. 

I don’t know why I continue to be astonished each year by the early arrival of winter.  After all, I’ve lived in the north for over a quarter of a century, so you’d think by now I’d be used to significant snowfall while the leaves are still tumbling from the trees.  I must be suffering from some sort of subconscious delusional malady which hoodwinks me into believing that there really are four seasons in a year.  And that may be true in some areas of the world, but certainly not where I live.  After the initial shock of this morning, I’ve come to accept the inevitable:  Old Man Winter is here to stay for the next six or seven months.

Still in partial denial, I took my little Beagle out for a walk this afternoon.  She is definitely her mommy’s baby because her little paws were quite reluctant to be immersed in that cold wet stuff covering the ground.  Who could blame her?  I, at least, was wearing warm boots and mittens. 

Well, I won’t be texting lol to anyone about this today; however, col might be appropriate.  Cry out loud!

Wednesday, 3 October 2012

Slimmed down Santa


Stop the presses!  Have you heard the latest?  Santa Claus is getting a makeover! Yep, the jolly old elf is being down-sized and his pipe will be extinguished as part of a campaign to transform him into a health conscious role model for wide-eyed kiddies.

No longer will “smoke encircle his head like a wreath” and neither will his belly “jiggle like a bowl full of jelly.”  Instead, Mr. Claus has enrolled in a fast track fitness program to whittle his waist and lower his blood pressure.  Guess those rosey cheeks will soon be a thing of the past, too.  He’s sporting a new nicotine patch on his left bicep to ease the withdrawal symptoms from a century or two of smoking a pipe.  Yes, he’s making a list and checking it twice, and it’s still composed of naughty and nice; however, the naughty side includes cake, cookies, rum, pizza, fries, beer, bread, and anything with a calorie count above 100 per portion.  The nice side now resembles what he used to feed Rudolph and his counterparts.

Dear old Santa!  We really do want him to live a long, happy, healthy life, but this Christmas might be a bit strange with a skinny Santa Claus.  St. Nick won’t ever get stuck in a chimney again.  He’ll probably just squeeze in through a partially opened window and scare the bejeepers out of millions of children (and their parents) around the world.

What’s next, I wonder?  A newer, trimmer Frosty the Snowman?  Or maybe they’ll take Christ out of Christmas.  Oh, yeah.  That’s already been done.

 

Thankful for.....


Life.  A gift to be cherished, like a good box of chocolates
Husband & sons. My raison d’être
Family. Fine assortment of much-loved nuts (of which I’m one)
Expanding family. Wonderful, beautiful, awesome young people willing to become part of our inner circle
Friends. Selected assortment of nuts, highly valued
Faith. Solid foundation of my life
Home. Cozy, comfortable place of refuge
Babies. Warm, cuddly, heart-touching, sweet-smelling, yucky-smelling, laughing, giggling, crying, squirming little bundles of life and energy
Children. Innocent, curious, open, loving, trusting, straightforward miniature human beings
Dogs. Faithful, loyal, loving, non-judgemental companions
Health. Should never be taken for granted
Freedom. Being lucky enough to be born and live in a democratic country
Music and Art. Relaxation for mind, body and soul
Scent of lilacs and lavender. So calming
Intellect. Truly a miracle; use it, exercise it, expand it
Prayer. Brings focus and serenity to life
Chocolate. Yeah!!!!
Sense of humor. The ability to not take yourself too seriously
Fall colors. Vivid, bright, gorgeous
Clean drinking water. Necessity of life
Sun-dried sheets and blankets.  So refreshing when you snuggle down in a cozy bed
Good food. To be savored, enjoyed, appreciated
Ocean. Ebb and flow, waves lapping on the seashore, sight, sound, smell
Lake. Tranquil, soothing, reflective
Tea. A refreshing, relaxing drink best shared with friends
Turkey dinner. Comfort food, family gatherings
Modern appliances. Convenience extraordinaire
Belly laughs. Another absolute necessity of life
Chocolate. Did I mention that already?
Vanilla. So someone else can eat it
Books. A treasure trove of imagination
Words of inspiration. Written or spoken, they touch the heart
Tears of joy. When your cup runneth over
Peace of mind. Not always attainable, but greatly treasured
Walks with the dog. Great exercise and a wonderful opportunity to think
Snow. Especially when it’s gone; otherwise it gives me something to complain about
Vision. The gift of sight is truly remarkable; imagine living without it
Nature. What an amazing world there is to explore!
Classic movies. Clearly defined characters, believable plots, no terrorists or vampires
Sunny days without humidity. Pleasant, leisurely, restful
Hot bath or shower. The gift and privilege of cleanliness
A good night’s sleep. Rare, but always welcome
Chocolate. Yep, there it is again
Beautiful sunsets. The imagery is awe-inspiring
Non-reality TV shows. Self-explanatory
Sudoku and crossword puzzles. Great brain exercise, provided they’re not too, too difficult. Then, they become frustrating.
The smell of apple and cinnamon. Hmmm
Christmas. The greatest gift of all – even moderate commercialism is ok because it emulates love and giving
Thanksgiving. Time to reflect on and give thanks for all of our blessings

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Sunday, 23 September 2012

Missing Children


I just came back from my daily walk with “the baby” and I noticed that something was missing.  There were no children outside playing, no running footsteps, no laughs or giggles, no little bike riders.  Of course, it had been raining earlier in the day but the sun was bright in the sky as Mica and I made our daily pilgrimage around town.  Then it dawned on me that I don’t see a lot of children outside on any given day. 

When I was a child, my best friend and I spent countless hours outdoors playing all sorts of games and using our imaginations to invent others.  We hosted tea parties in the backyard fit for queens and countesses using our plastic dish sets which Santa left under the tree one Christmas.  We played hopscotch and tiddly winks. We tried our best to keep a hula hoop going round and round, unaware of the benefits of exercise we were getting at the same time.  We played ball with other children, we jumped rope, we played “Simon Says”, “Hide and Seek,” and “Mother, May I” and if we wanted to visit another friend, we certainly never even considered asking our parents for a ride to her house.  We walked to the store to pick up something our mothers wanted and we chatted and skipped our way there and back. Playing outside was a year round activity.  In the winter, we built snow forts and careened down a hill on slides (sleds) or whatever else fit the bill.  Sometimes I even joined my brother and his friends for a game of street hockey, but that was only if they were desperate for another player and a “lousy girl” was all they could find to fill the space.  No matter what the season, my friends and I always managed to find something fun to do outdoors.  Surprisingly, I don’t ever remember feeling bored.

Today’s kids live a completely different lifestyle, yet I wonder is it really a better one?  Sure, their parents may counter, they are involved in sports and other activities.  While that may be true, it seems that the “play” has been taken out of many of these events and most, if not all, are highly structured and competitive.  The spontaneity is gone and possibly the real fun as well.  With all the electronics and gaming systems available today, many children spend a great deal of time in fantasy play while their bikes and baseball bats lie idle in the yard. 

A recent medical study issued a warning that should make society sit up and take notice.  It said that an alarming number of children are now overweight, too sedentary, and likely to have a shorter life span than their parents.  Where’s the fun in that?

Friday, 21 September 2012

It Is What It Is


I’ll soon be heading down south for a tropical vacation, so I recently bought a new swimsuit for this little jaunt and I actually felt quite pleased with myself when it slid up and in place with little difficulty.  Then I looked in the mirror.  Sweet Mother of Jesus!  That’s not the most attractive looking thing I’ve ever seen, was the thought that came to mind.

In my glory days, I really rocked a bikini.  No doubt this image will probably make my sons gag and could even cause them a few sleepless nights.  Hey, I think they should take some of the blame for the reconfiguration of my body parts, especially since I’m barely five feet tall yet I still managed to bring those long-legged creatures into the world.  They should be thankful that they inherited their father’s genes instead of mine.

I’ve never been fanatical about anything.  Everything in moderation is my creed.  So, I try to eat healthy (that includes an occasional piece of dark chocolate which is good for the heart, you know), I work out several times a week, and I pound the pavement daily with my faithful little sidekick, Mica.  Despite these habitual exertions, the dog and I are beginning to resemble each other more and more – we’re both slightly plump and a little low to the ground, but with fairly pleasing personalities.

So what if I’m not the hottest thing on the beach!  I try to console myself with the notion that I probably won’t be the worst either.  Somewhere in the middle is the best I can hope for nowadays.  To coin a phrase from Son # 2, “It is what it is!” 

Tuesday, 18 September 2012

The Tapestry


Have you ever looked closely at the back of a tapestry? It appears to be a random, complicated jumble of colors and tangles without cohesion or meaning.  But turn it over and there is this stunning image – a true work of art and beauty.

Life is like that.  We often stumble along, enmeshed in daily struggles and occasional roadblocks that weigh us down, sometimes to the point of outrage or despair.  In those moments, it’s hard to see the good side of the tapestry.  The lines don’t seem to connect despite our best efforts and the pattern is obscured by bumps and knots. 

Yet, the beautiful picture on the other side is still being woven.  Sure, some stitches may have to be unraveled and redesigned, but with perseverance and experience the tapestry will eventually unfold as intended. Stay calm in the face of adversity and allow yourself to see the bigger picture, secure in the knowledge that the designer of the canvas is guiding your progress with each stitch in the tapestry.

“I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made…” (Psalm 139, 14) 

Wednesday, 12 September 2012

Coat of Many Colors


House painting!  Can there be a more tedious task?  It seems that, like a lot of other people, we spend a significant amount of time, energy and money giving our home an annual facelift.  New paint inside and out, bright shiny colors in various shades and palettes. 

Now painting is not one of my favorite pass times, especially given that our summers are short here. When renos and upgrades are on the agenda, there is very little time for long, lazy summer relaxation in a lounge chair with a book or e-reader in my hands.  No sir, until the house looks resplendent in fresh new shades, the only thing in my hands is a paint brush or roller.

Some of you may know that the “baby” of my family is a beautiful long-eared, golden-haired, brown-eyed Beagle named Mica, a.k.a. Mommy’s shadow.  So, on one recent foray into rainbow land, I gathered all the necessary supplies and set off to paint the side deck – two colors of course.

Close on my heels came the baby.  Within the first few minutes, I knew that this wasn’t going to work out well.  Being a hound dog, her nose leads her into many places in which she should not venture.  This time, her nosey nose came out of the paint tray with a white tip.  Exercising as much care as I would with a newborn child, I gently wiped away most of the paint from her snout with a soft tissue and warned her to keep her nose out of trouble from then on.

No such luck!  Before long, the dark areas of her Beagle coloring were noticeably streaked with white while her white fur sported numerous splotches of yellow.  Even the pads of her paws left tell-tale marks everywhere she stepped.  Putting her inside the house and shutting the door proved to be a lesson in futility as her trademark hound dog howl soon had the neighbors wondering what on earth I was doing to the poor animal.  She obviously was intent on maintaining her role as Mommy’s perpetual sidekick.

By the end of the day, I had a lovely looking deck and a not so lovely looking dog.  A soapy bath helped remove some of the mess, but not all.  Over the next couple of weeks, as other areas of the house were treated to newly decorated walls, my little Beagle companion began to wear a coat of many colors, just like Joseph in the Bible.

Despite the multiple delays to wipe as much paint as possible off various sections of her furry body, her steadfast determination and implacable resolve to be by my side was touching.  We can learn much from the faithful love of a dog.  Following a pooch spa treatment, she looked as good as new.  There shouldn’t be any reason to wear her coat of many colors in the foreseeable future.  Mommy’s paint brush has been retired!

Tuesday, 11 September 2012

200 Years Behind?


On August 31, 2012, Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini passed away.  A former Archbishop of Milan and a well-known liberal theologian, Cardinal Martini’s last message to the world called for a fundamental shake-up within the Roman Catholic Church.  A few weeks prior to his death, Cardinal Martini gave an interview to a fellow Jesuit, Georg Sporschill, and to a reporter from an Italian newspaper, Corriere della Sera, in which he stated that the Catholic Church was 200 years behind the times.  He described the Church as being tired, aged, and bureaucratic.  His comments also included references to pompous rituals and vestments as well as to mistakes made by the Church in responding to the pedophilia scandals.  Urging change, Cardinal Martini is quoted as saying, “Why don’t we rouse ourselves?  Are we afraid?”

Before convening the 2nd Vatican Council (1962-1965), Pope John XXIII said that it was time to open the windows of the Church to let in some fresh air.  This Council was attended by Catholic clergy from around the world, and a number of Orthodox and Protestant Churches also sent observers.  It must have been an exciting time, especially given the dramatic political and socio-economic changes taking place during that period.   The spirit was indeed a-movin’ through those open windows, but someone must have gotten a bit chilly with all that fresh air coming in.  Over the next couple of decades, the vigorous breeze fizzled to an occasional little draft as those stained glass windows were once again slammed shut.

Today, there’s no denying that the Catholic Church is in crisis.  Attendance at weekly Mass is quite low in many parishes, the majority of active parishioners are over 40 years old, and a large chunk of baptized Catholics now have little or no connection to their faith.  We have lost practically one entire generation of people, possibly even two.   Even some of the church buildings are starting to look decrepit.  Sure, we can smugly convince ourselves that secularism is the culprit, but if we are truly honest, we have to face the reality that not all of the problem can be explained away by external influences.  Somewhere between congregational apathy and hierarchical obstinacy lies the real crux of the matter.  So, how do we fix it? 

Laity:  the people of a religious faith as distinct from its clergy

Whether practising or not, many Catholics will identify themselves as such when asked their religious denomination.  With hectic lifestyles, dual-family careers, and increasing opportunities for leisure time activities, most people put church attendance at the bottom of their list of priorities.  They assume that the Church will always be there if and when they need it, eg. for weddings, baptisms and funerals.  But hold on a minute; that might not always be the case.  A number of community churches have had to close their doors in recent years because they couldn’t even afford to pay for general maintenance and upkeep.   Apart from the financial losses, even more devastating is the loss of the faithful.  Do you know how many ministries are needed for one Sunday liturgy?  There’s a sacristan (sort of a set-up/overseer), lectors (Scripture readers), choir members, altar servers, Eucharistic ministers, etc.  Then, there’s a congregation!  Without bums in the pews, the rest can be considered somewhat redundant. “Then many will fall away…. The love of many will grow cold…” (Mt 24:10,12) 

At some point in everyone’s life, there comes a moment of clarity, an understanding that we are not as self-sufficient as we might have thought.  We all have a need to “belong” to something or someone, to have the gift of love and stability in our lives. Family and friends play a major role in fulfilling that longing; so, too, can the support of a welcoming, caring faith community. 

If the current trend of half-empty churches continues, where will future generations go to have their spiritual needs met?  We are all very concerned about trying to preserve a healthy, eco-friendly environment for our children.  Shouldn’t we be equally concerned about sharing with them our legacy of faith?  “Love one another with mutual affection, do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit…” (Romans 12: 10,11).  We are the Church, so it’s up to us to make a difference.  Take a chance – get out of bed an hour earlier next Sunday and take that first step back to Mass.  Or, if you’re currently active in your faith, invite someone else to come with you.  And don’t forget the power of prayer.  Now, if you’re really and truly fed up and ticked off with the Catholic Church, share your frustration!  In this modern world of technology and communication, your local parish or even the Vatican is just a click away. 

Clergy:  a body of religious officials authorized to conduct services
Religious: a member of a religious order under monastic vows

Throughout the history of the Church, countless good men and women have given their lives in service to others through their ministry. It doesn’t take a genius to see that the number of ordained priests and deacons, along with vowed religious brothers and sisters, has declined drastically in recent years.  Who can blame young people for not responding to such vocations?  Celibacy, restrictive lifestyles, and the ever present spectre of the sexual abuse scandals must be powerful deterrents.  Yet, some brave souls still answer the call.  “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” (Mt 4:19)

Many clergy and religious are decent people who do their best to live out their vows each and every day.  Yet, there is also a definite lack of connection between some pastors and the flock they serve.  Sadly, a lot of priests are caught up in the day-to-day running of their parishes – the leaky roof, the musty carpet, the financial woes and the accompanying committee meetings.  Those concerns have a tendency to consume one’s thoughts; however, a priest’s role is primarily to minister to his congregation.  Outreach and evangelization are not the sole responsibility of the clergy, yet a personal call or visit from the pastor carries great significance for most parishioners.  Other denominations may have a slight advantage in this area because many of their clergy are married and have families which, naturally, necessitate an active personal involvement in community affairs.  Still, commitment to religious vows should not prevent any priest from being more visible at local events.  Getting out of the office occasionally to meet the people at a non-Church related function could possibly have a more positive impact than a dozen sermons preached with great eloquence.  Go to the hockey arenas and the soccer pitches and spend even just a few minutes chatting or sharing a coffee with the parents there.  Cheer for their kids, make people feel that you are genuinely interested in them and their families.  Be available to meet with young couples preparing for marriage or baptism as well as with the families whose children are enrolled in first communion and confirmation programs.  Who knows what far-reaching effects such personal contact might have on people’s perception of the Church? Seeing spiritual leaders as real, caring, approachable human beings can go a long way in building up the community of faith. 

Hierachy:  a ruling body of clergy organized into ranks

A few years ago, a certain acronym made the rounds in Christian circles – WWJD (what would Jesus do).

If he strolled through the Vatican today, would he be pleased to see the solid foundation of the Church he instituted at the Last Supper and which he left in St. Peter’s hands? Or would he be disillusioned by all the pomp and ceremony and the apparent disconnect between those inside the Vatican walls and the ordinary folk outside? “Look, those who put on fine clothing and live in luxury are in royal palaces.” (Lk 7:25)

By Scripture accounts, Jesus lived a frugal life.  His attire was that of the common man of his day and he was known simply as “Teacher.”  Jesus Christ personified humility, self-sacrifice, and love.  Today’s leaders of the Catholic Church seem to favor a more flamboyant appearance and elite titles.

Mistakes have been made in the past, especially in dealing with the sexual abuse of children by members of the clergy.  Although measures have been taken within recent years to deal appropriately with this horrifying issue, the tainted images of back room perversions and high level cover-ups remain, effectively nailing Jesus to the Cross over and over again.  It will take time, a sincere Church-wide acknowledgement of responsibility, and a great deal of transparency in future proceedings to regain the trust of a substantial number of Catholics.  Scripture itself provides so much guidance and wisdom for problems of all kinds, even this one:  “Nothing is covered up that will not be uncovered, and nothing secret that will not become known.” (Lk 12:2)  And again, “But now I am writing to you not to associate with anyone… who is sexually immoral… Drive out the wicked person from among you.” (1Cor 5:11,13)

Within the half-empty churches of parishes around the world, there is a small but very faithful group of dedicated workers who willingly give of themselves to serve God and their Church.  Look around, gentlemen, and take note of who they are.  The vast majority of these devoted followers of Christ are middle-aged or older women.  Some are members of religious Congregations, some are paid employees, and many are volunteers answering their baptismal call, yet each of them is a Christian in action.  Where would the Church be without them?  St. Paul addressed the issue of women in the early days of the Church when he said: “…help these women, for they have struggled beside me in the work of the gospel…” (Phil 4:3) and “I commend to you our sister Phoebe, a deacon of the church…. so that you may welcome her in the Lord as is fitting…” (Rom 12:16)  The pioneers of the Church apparently had no aversion to sharing authority and leadership with women.  Quite a commendable concept!

In Paul’s first letter to Timothy, there is an amusing anecdote concerning the requirements of being a bishop.  “Now a bishop must be above reproach, married only once, temperate, sensible, respectable, hospitable, an apt teacher, not a drunkard, not violent but gentle, not quarrelsome, and not a lover of money.”  That should bring a smile to even the sternest of Vatican countenances.  Obviously, married men were not excluded from the ranks of the clergy initially.  Even St. Peter, the first Pope appointed by Jesus himself, had a mother-in-law from which the natural assumption would be that he also had a wife.  Would a family in a Catholic rectory help fill some of those empty pews?  Judging by the successful integration of married deacons and of married clergy from other denominations who have converted to Catholicism, it seems that Catholic congregations are not appalled at the idea of a wife and children inhabiting their rectories.  Given the dwindling enrolment in seminaries these days, it only makes sense to consider the option of ordaining women and married men to the priesthood.  Or are we still afraid to move beyond those 200 years of stagnation as referred to by Cardinal Martini?

There is certainly ample room for improvement within the Catholic Church, but there is also a rich history and a direct line of succession from the first Pope to the present. We can all be arm chair critics, but do we have the guts to back it up with definitive action?  The Catholic Church can be resurrected through the combined efforts of all its members – from the top down and the bottom up.  It will take work and cooperation, and there’s no time to waste.  So, let’s open those windows really wide this time to clear out all the stale air of past mistakes and sweep away the cobwebs of antiquity.  Let’s really talk to each other, let’s really listen to each other, let’s really hear each other, and let’s really make some positive changes.  It’s worth it to me.  Is it worth it to you?

“So that your faith might rest, not on human wisdom, but on the power of God.” (1Cor 2:5)

 

 

 

 

Saturday, 8 September 2012

"F" words


I love the fall.  But it’s only early September, you’re probably thinking.  Yep, but here in Canada’s great North, the seasons are short – except for winter, which drags on interminably. Trees have already started changing color here and dogberries are in abundance.  Even the geese have begun their annual migration south of the border.  The days are noticeably shorter and soon the leaves will fall.  Frost warnings and snow flurries can’t be too far behind. I would like to live in an area where autumn is prolonged because I really enjoy brisk walks with the dog in the crisp, fresh air while the multi-colored leaves dance and swirl beneath our feet. 

When I was in my youth, spring was my favorite season.  The chirping of little birds and the bleating of new-born lambs in the meadow outside my bedroom window announced the resurgence of life after the slumber of winter.  Everything was new, pristine, and just waiting to be discovered. 

Before I knew it, the flowers and I were in full summer bloom and life was bright, beautiful, and very busy.  Babies became curious toddlers and, eventually, cheeky teenagers.  The freshness of the flowers gradually began to fade a little and the hectic pace of summer has now given way to a slower, yet surprisingly, richer season in the cycle of life.

I now look forward with great anticipation to this third quarter.  In just a couple of months, Son #1 will pledge his love to the woman of his dreams and I will be there to witness it, although I probably won’t see very well through the tears in my eyes. How blessed am I!  In no time at all, the circle of life will continue its natural order through the arrival of darling little grandchildren to love, nurture and guide.

Throughout my journey through the seasons, I have relied heavily on the solid foundations of faith, family and friends.  Now I can add the cornerstone of fall – with all its strength, vibrancy, and diversity - to stabilize the structure of my life.  See, not all “f” words are bad!

Tuesday, 4 September 2012

Baking 101


As a cook, I could probably rate a B+ for most efforts – maybe even an A on occasion.  Baking, however, has never really been my forte.  I can make a pretty good batch of homemade bread when necessary, but I really don’t like tackling too many recipes for baked goods.  Apart from the mess associated with baking, my concoctions rarely turn out as good looking as the pictures in those glossy magazines or cookbooks.  Makes me feel downright gloomy to do a comparison. 


Recently, my husband’s brother and his wife stopped by and she happened to pick up a magazine I’d been reading. Lo and behold, she found a recipe for an amazing looking key lime cheesecake.   Undaunted by the long list of ingredients and directions, she announced with consummate confidence that she would make this delectable delight within the next day or two.  Sure enough, we soon got a phone call inviting us over for tea and cheesecake.  Wouldn’t you know, it was absolutely scrumptious and the darn thing didn’t even have a single crack in it.  To my knowledge, that’s a rarity for homemade cheesecakes. 

 
Before the last morsel was licked from the fork, Sister-in-law had issued a challenge to me to bake one of the other featured cake recipes in that infamous magazine.  “Sure, of course,” says I with nary an intention of doing anything of the sort.  A week passed by and it’s no lie to say that the idea of baking any cake, much less one of those intricately detailed contrivances, had not even entered my head.  Along come the in-laws again and, I’ll be darned, the subject of the absentee cake came up.  Feeling slightly disconcerted, I took up the gauntlet. 


The next day, I got out my little notebook and proceeded to write a shopping list for the ingredients to make a “Mousse Cloud Chocolate Cake”.  The first instruction was to grease a spring form pan.  What evil mind created this contraption, I wondered?  After several minutes of fighting the thing before finally managing to snap the sides and bottom together, I gave the pan a liberal dose of cooking spray and valiantly consulted the recipe again.  Cover the pan in foil.  Now, why should I do that, I pondered, but did it just the same. 
 
After another quick glance at the directions, I began to combine the ingredients using my very basic little hand mixer which I think might have been given to me as a bridal shower gift many, many moons ago.  (That should tell you how often I’ve used it.) At this point, I was just tossing everything into the bowl and creating quite a mess all over the countertop, backsplash and myself.  When I checked the recipe once again, I realized that the vanilla pudding mix was not supposed to be part of the cake batter at all – rather, it was listed as a key ingredient in the icing!  Oh, well, too late to turn back now, I surmised.  Add candied ginger. What in the heck is candied ginger?  Finding a small container of powdered ginger, I nonchalantly added a dash to the mixture.   Thinking that I could lessen the splatter somewhat if I finished mixing the batter in the kitchen sink, I placed the bowl there but accidentally turned on the tap at the same time.  Then, in an attempt to drain off excess water from the cake batter, I unintentionally dropped a dish cloth into the mix.  The dog cowered and hid under the table at that point as the air turned somewhat blue. 

Into the bleep-bleep spring form pan went the batter, and I prayed that the high temperature of the oven would kill whatever germs might have accumulated during its preparation.  The final result looked pretty good, although not quite as it should have due to the fact that the vanilla pudding didn’t quite make it to the icing and the melted white chocolate squares refused to stay melted.  So, I improvised by combining Cool Whip with instant chocolate pudding for the icing.  Still, after what I had gone through to create the blessed thing, I wasn’t going to let it go to waste.  The in-laws joined us for a lovely dessert on the patio, with no one the wiser as to the story behind the mishap cake.  I hope my sister-in-law never reads this little tale!  Cake anyone?