Seeing Rightly

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Sometimes in life one needs to see with the eyes of the heart to see rightly. Tonight I was at prison and the priest, a lovely fellow from Ireland, was engaging the prisoners in a way I had never seen a presider do before. He asked questions straight away and drew these men into a dialogue that was affirming and educational. I sat back and thought–I have never seen such a thing in a service except for in the Deaf Community. I was happy to witness it. These men must have felt great respect from this priest.

Afterwards during the coffee time, I was joined by a man who I have a hard time understanding and I often find my mind wandering, wishing I was speaking to someone else. Another volunteer sat down with us and quickly the conversation started to flow between them. I marveled at this too and wondered what my eyes had not seen.

Another inmate joined us and he and I began to speak. I struggle a wee bit with him because he is difficult to follow and I cannot always maintain the topic, try as I might. I suspect he is mentally ill but he is also quite intellectual about some things. He stopped talking at one point and looked at me. His shoulders fell forward and I could see from his face that he was disheartened. He confessed that he knew that people often lost him and that he was frequently met with silence. I wish that I might be able to see with Christ’s eyes what he had been trying to explain to me.

So much of what we see in front of us takes eyes that can feel in order to penetrate the sound and look for the blessing. That priest sure had this gift. The other volunteer did too. What a blessing and lesson tonight was.

When have you experienced a moment when you needed to see with your heart?

Peace,

Suzanne

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Trumpet Sounding

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In a short while, we will revisit remembering our loved ones in a different way than how we will today. The trumpet sounds then and now, a sorrowful lament to those who have left us. As much as death is about the one who has passed on, it is also about those who remain. In a twinkling of an eye, our loved ones are transformed, but so are we, left to carry on without them. Our hearts are freed and pierced simultaneously. We know that they have gone to a better place, but we suffer the loss in our daily lives. Death has no victory over them but death can control our minds as we try to live without them.

In the Gospel reading of John today we are told that a grain of wheat must die to bear much fruit. We can also look to the alternative reading which is from Matthew where Jesus invites all those who are weary and carrying more than we think possible to come to Him and we will receive rest. In the First Reading from Lamentations, the author admits that his “soul is deprived of peace” however holds fast to hope because he knows that the steadfast love of God never stops. These are the words that help us find stability in the shifting sands of sorrow.

All souls make a mark on this world. When we live well by serving and loving our neighbours, the grief for those who remain here is unbearable but God’s mercy allows us to find a rest that we know from no other source. Remember the souls dear to you this day and know that God is good for those who wait and seek the One who comforts and consoles. May peace be yours this day as we rest in the promise that these souls are Home.

Peace,

Suzanne

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Saintly Days

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Two Feast Days in a row–today is All Saints Day. I did not make it to mass today. I look forward to All Soul’s Day when I can remember that great cloud of witnesses that go before me. I should keep this short and go read a bit of a saint’s biography yet tonight. When I first came back from my pilgrimage I was more diligent about this but now I have fallen into disarray. I hardly remember to do the daily readings right now for some reason. Sad! Perhaps this Feast Day is a gentle reminder to get back on track.

Do you spend much time thinking about the saints? Do you have favourite saints? What is it that you learn from them? How do they strengthen your journey? What is it about their lives that points you towards God?

Peace,

Suzanne

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Boys Against the Girls

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When I was a kid we used to play boys against the girls at recess time. I wonder if it was then that we were conditioned to take abuse from males. I have been thinking a lot about the Jian Ghomeshi scandal and could not help but wonder why few take a brave stand against it. When do we start to stay silent and why?

For many who know me personally this may be a hard read. You may find out information about me you did not know. I am sure we all have our own stories–many will be worse than mine.

As I have looked back over my life as a female this past week, I have had many memories that are laden with the power dynamics of surviving in a world of misogyny. I remember a morning at school when one of the boys held a handful of snow, threatening to wash out the face of one of the girls. He stood before us, sneering, and then asked, “Who is gonna get it?” I must have been tired of the constant beating down at every recess or something but I snapped as I watched us all cowering in the corner. I moved forward and quickly slapped his hand upward, the cold snow covering his own face. The girls scattered and he sputtered obscenities at me.

There was also the trauma of walking home and having a boy from our class jump out at us, exposing himself, fairly regularly. Then there was the male teacher in elementary school that a group of us still talk about as creepy. One of the boys must have also sensed what we did because he intervened at one point and got detention.

While in elementary I was incredibly unfortunate to experience something I forgot until I was a young adult. That said, my angels were definitely working double duty that day. I was heading to my patrol corner by myself that day when a car pulled up and the man inside asked me for directions to the nearby candy store. He had opened the passenger door but I was already turning around and pointing to the store which was visible from where I stood. Some fast talking on my part and the sight of other patrols coming scared him. He sped off without ever being apprehended. I reported it to the principal and I remember the police were going to be called but I really do not remember much else. I could have been abducted and abused that day–perhaps even murdered. Why don’t I remember that anyone really cared about it?

Fast forward to young adulthood when a friend of mine who was bisexual warned me about a mutual friend: “Don’t ever get in his car by yourself.” My friend was worried about my safety because his own had been violated. It was about a week later that the other guy, offered me a ride home and I declined. He reached across the seat and tried to pull me inside. He stopped when he saw my face as I remembered the candy store incident for the first time in a flashback. I heard him say, “I am not going to hurt you.” I was not really there though–I was trying to shake a memory out of my head. He let me walk away without pursuing it further. I could not believe I had buried the incident and began to realize that this memory was why I did not put my trust in authority figures.

Incidents in junior and senior high schools were not unusual for the most part on my own path but I remember a girl who was cognitively challenged who one day showed up at school pregnant. I had heard the stories of what had happened to her by a jock–we all did. Now I knew it was true. I was sickened but nothing ever happened to him as far as I knew. I have wondered about her, him, and the baby on more than one occasion since that day. I have wondered if any of us ever said anything to him about his cowardly act of abuse to that girl.

So many of my female friends who had early sexual relationships now admit they would have done things differently. They felt used and disrespected by boys who were thinking mostly about themselves and their needs. It was not mutually enjoyable. I listen to a young woman talk to me about her sexual experiences and I have gotten mad on more than one occasion as I try calmly to tell her that she needs to take more control over these experiences and that just because she is in a relationship with someone that he does not get to have sex on demand as if he can flick a remote that opens her legs. How can she, like so many other young women, learn that she can say no, even to her partner, because she does not want sex right now, right there, in that fashion? When do the males understand what mutuality in a relationship looks like?

In conversation with friends as adults, too many have confessed to me about being raped–as teens, as women, at gunpoint, with a knife pressed to their throats, with threats unspeakable. They speak of what has, or has not happened, to their perpetrators. Clearly going to the police does not always help but for many it did.

It is not always about violence though. I remember being on a date and I was telling what I thought was a great story when the man interrupted me and told me how beautiful I was. I paused for a moment, thanked him and continued my story. He cut me off two more times before I gave up. He had blown it though. His head had run ahead to what he was hoping might happen after dinner and I had crossed him off the list. Perhaps if he had said I was brilliant or compassionate or something else given the story I was telling I might have been impressed but all I could think of was I am more than what he sees. I am more than a sexual object.

Men lack respect for women when they only see us as things to be dominated and controlled. I have seen it in the work place, in church communities, in the academic world, and in service clubs where men are supposedly doing good. I have experienced work place harassment twice, each time by men who have preyed on other women. The first time I addressed it head on but watched him move on to a new female staff when she joined the organization. The second time was even more horrible, when the female principal could not have him removed for his disgusting behaviour, try as she might. Instead the school lost an excellent female teacher whose mental health was at stake if she stayed. Those of us who had experienced the harassment could not even as a group hold enough credence to change the powers that be. I have no doubt why more women do not come forward or press charges. Clearly, great courage is required to do so even when everyone knows what has happened to them is true.

I love being a woman despite the inherent dangers of it. I have dozens of stories more that I could share–as I am sure that you who are reading can. I do not want to demoralize us. I also do not want to sound like I am male bashing. I am utterly blessed to be surrounded by good men, men who I believe are respectful to all women in their lives, and are amazing partners and fathers. They are raising good boys who will not tolerate violence against women, who will not stand silently when they see injustice and oppression. Many men supported me both times I stepped forward with my claims of being sexually and emotionally harassed. They were enraged that it had happened to me. I was believed. This is what needs to happen.

I have read and listened to much of what has unfolded this very sad week in Canadian history. When I first read Ghomeshi’s Facebook post, I tried to keep an open mind but there were a few clues that this might take a nasty turn. In several places I could not help but wonder if he was a perpetrator taking the victim stance. His preemptive strike seemed defensive but I could not have predicted the accusations that arose. The post was really all about him and that should have been a clue that something was amiss. There was no sense that he respected women, only that what he did in his bedroom was his business and domain, no matter how dark it was. He tried to make his readers seem like they were the ones who might not be liberal enough to accept his sexual preferences. I suspect his journey to enlightenment will be a long and hard one.

This post is really not about him though. It is more about #IBelieveLucy and the other women who are coming forward. It is about us taking a stand against alleged violence against women everywhere. I believe in justice and I believe that someone is innocent until proven guilty. I mostly believe that both men and women everywhere need to stop hating women. We need to stop hating ourselves and our sisters. We need to tell men who abuse that it is unacceptable. We need to teach men that sex is not a human right when someone says no or when the rules of the game change or when violence is involved. We need for girls and women everywhere to understand this one simple statement: You do not deserve it–ever. You are a child of God who has created you as beautiful on the inside, which is more important than being beautiful on the outside.

We all have a decision to make about violence. We can respond with hate towards the man who is accused of these horrible actions or we can hate the behaviour and try to persuade the man to be a man and stand up and admit if he did what he is accused of. We need to reach out to the men as well as the women in these instances in order to stop the cycle of violence. We need to pray for healing in this world and bring to the Light that which occurs in the dark. Each one of us needs to say we have a part in making the world a better place, and maybe it starts by telling a female friend to be careful, or a male friend that what he is doing is sick and violent and he should stop. We need to stop playing boys against the girls and commit to creating a new order. What will you do to change violence against women? It starts there.

Peace,

Suzanne

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How Much Love?

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The Gospel reading today is the well-known two top commandments. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul and all your mind and you shall love your neighbour as yourself. If God is our model of love, then how much do we understand this model of ALL? God gave all to us and continues to give each day more than we can ask or imagine. Christ laid down his very life for us. This definition of all impacts our understanding of love. If we even get a smidgen of all into our loving, we might be on the right road.

Peace,

Suzanne

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Growing

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Every once in a while I see a growth spurt which often comes out of the darkness of a moment. I have had a couple of insights lately due to some challenging interactions. I see my own humanity and failings as well as the brokenness of the other. I grew up near a mushroom factory and when the wind was not looking kindly upon our neighbourhood we would catch the not so pleasant smell of the manure that encouraged their growth. Apparently the plants grow best in a pile of poop. Humans sometimes also grow best when we are faced with crappy situations too if we are open enough to see that.

What do you do when life presents a growing moment?

Peace,

Suzanne

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Sad Day

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This will be one of those days that goes down in Canadian history as a black mark. Details are still unfolding as to what took place in Ottawa this morning but for those who witnessed or were directly affected because of the shootings, their lives are forever changed. Whether they were locked down in their offices or a tourist on the hill, those who saw or heard the violence today will have a hard time sleeping tonight I am sure.

Media reports have not yet answered all the questions but slowly names and details are coming out. At this point we do not know why this tragedy occurred. A young father is now dead. Another man, the perpetrator, is also dead. Another person or two are also wounded. The search for answers now continues.

The cross of Christ goes before us on these days, reminding us both of sorrow and hope. Let’s pray for this world of ours that creates these situations. May we seek peace instead of vengeance.

Peace,

Suzanne

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Friend of God

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Today is the Feast Day of St. Luke and as he begins his Gospel he greets the recipient as Theophilus or friend of God. Another translation might be beloved of God. How many of us really know that God is a friend and we are the beloved? The author of Luke and Acts knew and captures the love story of our Creator and Brother in the pages of what he writes.

What does it mean to be a friend to the God of the universe? How does one hang out with a Friend like this? When do we know deep within ourselves that this Friend is the one who is there for us at all times, in all places, and in every situation? This Friendship is like no other. We are the Beloved of the One who knows no limits to mercy and forgiveness. It does not matter how many times we do not act lovingly toward this Friend. This buddy has our best interests at heart–at all times, even when we do not seem to understand what is going on.

When was the last time you invited your Friend for a quiet and intimate chat?

Peace,

Suzanne

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Great Gratitude

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Today is a journey down memory lane, examining my graced history with abundant gratitude. The readings on this Canadian Thanksgiving lend themselves well to meditating on thanks. Colossians 3 reminds us that we are holy and beloved, that we should bear with one another, forgive our transgressions, and clothe ourselves in all things wonderful, such as compassion, kindness and patience. Mostly, we should snuggle into a coat of love, allowing peace to reign in our hearts. Paul encourages us to sing to God with gratitude in our hearts, thanking our Creator for everything. That is an amazing reading and I simply love it.

Of course, it is always easier to sing, dance and be thankful when all is well in our lives. The psalmist paints a glorious image in Psalm 113: from the rising of the sun to its setting, we praise the Lord. There is no other God like this One who raises the poor and lifts the needy. What about before being lifted or raised? Can we still find breath to sing with joy to our God? Can we believe that all of life has been a grand gift? Or does the pain outweigh the praise?

When I look back over my life I know that from a very young age, God has manifested as a peaceful Presence to me. I see the mountains and valleys outstretched on my imaginary life map and recognize that I have at times followed a trail of blood and tears that Christ Himself has dripped onto my path, as a marker to find my way out of the darkness. If there is one thing that I am grateful for more than anything today, it is that Christ has claimed me as His beloved.

Today’s Gospel has deep meaning to me. At a fairly significant juncture in my life, this was the message that saved me. I was pretty broken at the time, unsure of how to piece together my plans that had been shattered, and stuck on taking a step forward in trust. God intervened in ways that brought many blessings and ultimately changed how my life would turn out. I would have been happy with my previous choices and outcomes but this life has been more about others than me and these experiences have kept me close to my Creator in a life of service.

Sometimes when we ask, we hear no immediate answer. We knock but the door does not always fling open. We search for a long time without finding. Great patience is needed. The answer comes, the door opens, and the lost is found. God will not give us a stone. What is given may seem puzzling at times but press on. One day, looking back, we can discover the greater good and the bigger plan. The song of praise will rise. On this journey, wrapped in a cloak of Love, we can be thankful.

Peace,

Suzanne

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Banquet Invitations

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When was the last time you were invited to a banquet? Oddly enough, mine was just this past week, but I declined because I have something else going on that evening.

In the First Reading we learn that the Lord of Hosts provides a rich feast for everyone. The hand of the Lord rests on the mountain…and on the people we are told in Isaiah. In the famous psalm this Lord is reckoned as a shepherd and the people need not want for anything. God has it. Anything we need, God provides, even in the valley of death.

In Philippians, a servant has learned to live in both abundance and poverty. This one throws himself completely on the mercy of God and trusts that all shall be provided. Gratitude is expressed for those who offered to help him in his need. Thanksgiving is always a good choice.

The puzzling Gospel disturbs some people I suppose. Is this King a tyrant who will destroy the city in which his guests live in his rage? Many are invited but few are chosen. The banquet table awaits us and I have no easy understanding of this reading. Instead I am going to practice saying yes to the invitation that counts and join my community at the table tonight, in Thanksgiving for all the kindnesses received.

Peace,

Suzanne

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