On Wednesday I went to my church to drop off these two girls that take piano lessons from my mom. They usually have supper with my mom and I and sometimes my father, if he is home, every week after their lesson. We try to teach them something new to cook for their family during the coming week. These two girls are refugees that my church has brought over to live in Canada with their father because he wanted them to have a better future and a better life here with all the opportunities there are to be had. Consequently, they do not have much female influence because of the move here as their mother and grandmothers have remained in their country of origin.
So, when we arrived at the church, there were a myriad of shopping carts full of bottles and other junk. My mother went inside to get a bulletin or something. While she was inside the church, these two people in their somewhat dirty clothes and greasy hair came out to smoke. I thought, "These are not people that I know nor are they people that usually come to my church." That was not so much the problem. When my mother came back and got into the car, she informed me that they were having what she called the Banquet for the Homeless. To that I replies, "Good. Our church is actually becoming more socially active within the community around us." I was quite impressed. Well, I was impressed until I backed out of my parking stall and saw one of the somewhat dirty clothed and greasy haired people smoking and peeing on the wall of the church. This guy, pulled out his "thing" and started peeing on the side of the wall! I was instantly disgusted.
What do you say to something like? Do you get out of your car and yell at the poor guy even? There is after all two men's washrooms in the church. Do you tell the pastor? Do you yell at the person who organized this banquet at your church? No, no you don't. You try and forget the scene you have just seen by forgiving this man for urinating on your place of worship because you believe in grace. This is the same grace that you have received. So I forgive this man. Enough said I suppose. He had his reasons for what he did and I have my reasons for forgiving. I don't believe we are here, in this world to judge each others actions. I think those of us who do, often become hypocrites because in the end, we are no better and no worse. Just perhaps on the same or even a different path, trying to get through this life. Even if this guy isn't sorry, me being sorry for his actions is enough.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Manna and Mercy
I went to Saskatoon last weekend with my mom to visit my grandmother and because it was Homecoming at my mother's old high school. It was actually her 40th high school reunion. I wasn't planning on going with her because I had lots of homework due to the necessity, felt by my professors and the U of A, to have midterm week. In my case, it seems like midterm month.
I digress. So on the way to Saskatoon, my mom and I got talking about death. This was probably becasue her friend D's brother-in-law had just died the week before. D was supposed to go Homecoming with my mom but she felt that she should stay home with her husband, P, who was mourning the loss of his brother. My mom had talked to D about the funeral the night before and everyone's reaction to the death. D's brother-in-law had had cancer so his death was not a sudden thing (not that death isn't sudden no matter what the situation). D and P knew that he was dying so they, as well as the rest of the family, had gone to his home to be with him and say their goodbyes. Surprisingly, P's brother became a little frustrated by the whole ordeal. Eventually the whole family had to take turns staying with him during the week and take "days off" from visiting.
At this point, my mom and I started to talk about my grandparents and the fragility of their lives at this moment in our lives. My two grandfathers have passed on in the last 10 years but my grandmothers are still with us. I say this with a little hesitation. One of my grandmothers has severe "Dementias like tendencies" as they like to call it but she is otherwise physically fine. She can no longer remember names and her speech is gone. In essence, she is just a vessel. This may sound harsh but it is the reality of her reality and the rest of her life. My other grandmother is in good health but is now finally slowing down a little more every time I see her.
**This is a picture that reminds me of the road to my grandparents cabin in Saskatchewan. It isn't but I have always had a fondness for pictures of prairie scenes. Must be something in the blood.**
Whenever we talk about death, my family always talks about the deaths of my grandfathers. They were expected and unexpected in their own ways. My mother's father had always been sick all of my life becasue of a longer-time heart condition and heart attack that occurred just before I was born. I think my mom's family then realized the fragility of his life and of life in general. All of his grandchildren grew up seeing him take numerous pills and other health medication so we all knew that he would not be with us forever. Conversely, my father's parents have always been in good health in my lifetime. I think it was harder for my dad and his sister to lose their father because they had not experienced the health scares my mother's family had with my grandfather.
I remember the day my dad's father died. My brother and I were at the house he was looking after for the week and he got a call on his cell phone. It was my mother telling us grandpa had passed away. My brother then hung up the phone and told me. I think for us, it was alright. We knew that he was in a better place and that he was no longer suffering. We decided to go to the young adults group we went to weekly. It seemed very strange to the people there when we asked them to pray for us during the devotional period before eating supper. They seemed shocked that we were there with them. But, isn't that where we should have been? With our family and friends?
I remember my mom's father telling us to go on with our lives the week before he died. He wanted me to go play in the softball provincials my team was in and he wanted E and I to go to the music camp we were registered in the next week. An we did. He didn't want us to watch and wait for him to slowly slip away. I guess in a way, he wanted to see that we could survive without him.
I don't know if this is true but it seems as though everyone that I know that has died, has died while their family hasn't been in the room. Maybe this is becasue we come into this world alone so we must also leave it alone. I don't know. All I know is that this life is only a tiny glimpse of what is to come. The banquet feast and the guests will be ready at the table with welcoming arms outstretched, waiting for us to come home.
I digress. So on the way to Saskatoon, my mom and I got talking about death. This was probably becasue her friend D's brother-in-law had just died the week before. D was supposed to go Homecoming with my mom but she felt that she should stay home with her husband, P, who was mourning the loss of his brother. My mom had talked to D about the funeral the night before and everyone's reaction to the death. D's brother-in-law had had cancer so his death was not a sudden thing (not that death isn't sudden no matter what the situation). D and P knew that he was dying so they, as well as the rest of the family, had gone to his home to be with him and say their goodbyes. Surprisingly, P's brother became a little frustrated by the whole ordeal. Eventually the whole family had to take turns staying with him during the week and take "days off" from visiting.
At this point, my mom and I started to talk about my grandparents and the fragility of their lives at this moment in our lives. My two grandfathers have passed on in the last 10 years but my grandmothers are still with us. I say this with a little hesitation. One of my grandmothers has severe "Dementias like tendencies" as they like to call it but she is otherwise physically fine. She can no longer remember names and her speech is gone. In essence, she is just a vessel. This may sound harsh but it is the reality of her reality and the rest of her life. My other grandmother is in good health but is now finally slowing down a little more every time I see her.
**This is a picture that reminds me of the road to my grandparents cabin in Saskatchewan. It isn't but I have always had a fondness for pictures of prairie scenes. Must be something in the blood.**
Whenever we talk about death, my family always talks about the deaths of my grandfathers. They were expected and unexpected in their own ways. My mother's father had always been sick all of my life becasue of a longer-time heart condition and heart attack that occurred just before I was born. I think my mom's family then realized the fragility of his life and of life in general. All of his grandchildren grew up seeing him take numerous pills and other health medication so we all knew that he would not be with us forever. Conversely, my father's parents have always been in good health in my lifetime. I think it was harder for my dad and his sister to lose their father because they had not experienced the health scares my mother's family had with my grandfather.
I remember the day my dad's father died. My brother and I were at the house he was looking after for the week and he got a call on his cell phone. It was my mother telling us grandpa had passed away. My brother then hung up the phone and told me. I think for us, it was alright. We knew that he was in a better place and that he was no longer suffering. We decided to go to the young adults group we went to weekly. It seemed very strange to the people there when we asked them to pray for us during the devotional period before eating supper. They seemed shocked that we were there with them. But, isn't that where we should have been? With our family and friends?
I remember my mom's father telling us to go on with our lives the week before he died. He wanted me to go play in the softball provincials my team was in and he wanted E and I to go to the music camp we were registered in the next week. An we did. He didn't want us to watch and wait for him to slowly slip away. I guess in a way, he wanted to see that we could survive without him.
I don't know if this is true but it seems as though everyone that I know that has died, has died while their family hasn't been in the room. Maybe this is becasue we come into this world alone so we must also leave it alone. I don't know. All I know is that this life is only a tiny glimpse of what is to come. The banquet feast and the guests will be ready at the table with welcoming arms outstretched, waiting for us to come home.
Monday, October 08, 2007
Food in the Belly
Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I learned yesterday, thanks to the ever-wonderful CBC Radio 2 and the great Howard Dick from the program Choral Concert, that is was in fact us, the Canadians that really had the first Thanksgiving. It was Martin Frobisher on the banks of the Northwest Passage that first started this tradition. What a great tradition it is. There is no better reason to have Turkey (or Tofurkey as the case may be) and to share in the giving of thanks for all the rich blessings we have been given.
On the lighter side, I am perhaps the biggest sucker on the face of the earth. In the last couple of weeks I have been accosted by many a vendor to test many a product. Firstly, I was stopped while with my brother at the mall, to try some Red Sea salt hand exfoliater. I tried it of course and didn't buy it. This girl even buffed my nails, which by the way was gone after two days becasue I'm so rough with my hands, and she even moisturized them. I don't seem to be able to say no. The girl was mad I waisted and that reaction was warranted.
** This is me with my new haircut. It is the shortest I have had my hair in 10 years. It was a hard decision because I think women especially associate beauty and virility with hair. I sure do.**
Again, I was at the mall but this time with my mother, when this girl accosted me and pretty much physically dragged me to her chair so that she could try a straightening iron on my hair. I was considering buying myself the iron until she became more and more aggressive about the whole ordeal. She even showed me how to curl my hair with the iron but in the end, I didn't buy it. Besides, she only straightened half my head. Half my head! Who does that?!?! Half my hair! I pretty much had to do the rest of my hair. In fact, I did do the rest of my hair when I got home but the nerve. Do the whole thing!
It's not these two incidents either. I've been accosted by blood bank people, people giving out magazines or newspapers. It's everyone and all people.
I must be gullible too. My mom said she found my underwear outside my brother's place on the ground in Calgary two weeks after I had been there. She told me this about a week after she found them. She told me that they were undamaged and fine. I told her I was absolutely not going to wear them even if she had washed them five time, which she had, but to my surprise when I got to them in my pile of underwear but guess what? They weren't mine. They were a small child's spandex shorts. I was appalled by the mistake. I truly must be a gullible person that can't say no. Seriously.
On the lighter side, I am perhaps the biggest sucker on the face of the earth. In the last couple of weeks I have been accosted by many a vendor to test many a product. Firstly, I was stopped while with my brother at the mall, to try some Red Sea salt hand exfoliater. I tried it of course and didn't buy it. This girl even buffed my nails, which by the way was gone after two days becasue I'm so rough with my hands, and she even moisturized them. I don't seem to be able to say no. The girl was mad I waisted and that reaction was warranted.
** This is me with my new haircut. It is the shortest I have had my hair in 10 years. It was a hard decision because I think women especially associate beauty and virility with hair. I sure do.**
Again, I was at the mall but this time with my mother, when this girl accosted me and pretty much physically dragged me to her chair so that she could try a straightening iron on my hair. I was considering buying myself the iron until she became more and more aggressive about the whole ordeal. She even showed me how to curl my hair with the iron but in the end, I didn't buy it. Besides, she only straightened half my head. Half my head! Who does that?!?! Half my hair! I pretty much had to do the rest of my hair. In fact, I did do the rest of my hair when I got home but the nerve. Do the whole thing!
It's not these two incidents either. I've been accosted by blood bank people, people giving out magazines or newspapers. It's everyone and all people.
I must be gullible too. My mom said she found my underwear outside my brother's place on the ground in Calgary two weeks after I had been there. She told me this about a week after she found them. She told me that they were undamaged and fine. I told her I was absolutely not going to wear them even if she had washed them five time, which she had, but to my surprise when I got to them in my pile of underwear but guess what? They weren't mine. They were a small child's spandex shorts. I was appalled by the mistake. I truly must be a gullible person that can't say no. Seriously.
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