Carrots! And Ephesians!

As the temperatures are cooling, and the threat of frost increases, I’ve been slowly transitioning my little garden pots. The peas and beans came out last week, and this week my sights were set on the chard. (I’m holding out hope for the squash to keep growing!)

Interestingly, when I was planting the seeds into my planters last spring, I had an ‘ooops’ moment and accidentally dropped some carrot seeds into the chard pot. So, as the summer progressed, I watched carrot greens arise with enthusiasm, knowing that there would not likely be any carrots (the pots are small, the chard leaves block the sun, etc.). But I left them where they were, so as to provide ample carrot greens for some autumnal treat (apparently carrot green pesto is yummy; I’ll let you know!)

This week, assessing the chard, I noticed a spot of colour that didn’t quite belong. On closer inspection, it turns out I do have some very keen and determined carrots trying to grow. I was seeing their little orangey-brown tops starting to pop through the soil, desperate for some sunshine.

It got me thinking about the act of growing carrots. We drop a few seeds in, and nature does its thing under the soil beyond our sight, and some time later we rip those roots out of the earth and enjoy them.

Carrots are both rooted and grounded; they have the root tendrils that reach through the varying layers of soil, transporting nutrients and water to the root vegetable, thus enabling growth. And they are grounded, as their development takes place within a sturdy environment, the flexible greens being the only thing above the soil until the plant is ready to emerge into our sight. Even then, carrots can be quite solidly situated within that soil.

As our mid-week worship heard the lesson this week from Ephesians 3.17 (…that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love) I pondered about those carrots. Rooted, grounded, and emerging at their own pace. We too, through our faith, find ourself rooted (receiving the nourishment of Christ) and grounded (with a firm foundation of faith).

And, like those hiding little carrots, we too emerge into the world to live the life of those who are beloved; who have been blessed and can be a blessing.

NOT one more chapter...

Normally, I am a voracious reader. Novels, mysteries, history, theology: I can happily go through 10 books a month; and usually with more than one on the go at any given time. My TBR (to-be-read) shelf is of decent size, as is my ‘on hold’ list at the library.

My current before-bed read has been a change of pace – literally. It’s an engaging story that I want to finish in one sitting; yet it is so well crafted and creative that I want to savour it. I find myself reading no more than a few chapters each night, so I can make it last.

In doing so, I find I’m reading it with a different focus, considering multiple angles and perspectives as each section unfolds. I’m spending more time wondering what the characters are feeling, how they might interact, how their pasts are influencing their present, etc.

Perhaps this exact practice is why we have our scriptural narratives shared in small portions for our daily and weekly lections; not just so we can accomplish our liturgical journey through the bible every three years, but so that we can spend time in reflection, contemplation, and meditation. Each passage has something to reveal to us; even when we don’t understand it, even when we’re wanting to skip to the next action-based part, even when we can’t quite remember all the nuance of the last bit.

The scriptures are meant to engage us in all aspects of our lives; and with too much all at one we may be overly challenged and instead give up.

But with just the right amount, we can find ways to apply the lessons of each section to our lives: bringing us enjoyment, learning, and opportunity for ministry.

Bless This Mess - the Season of Creation

Today starts the “Season of Creation” in the church; not as a distinct liturgical season, but a time to intentionally focus on the relationship that we have with God’s creation.

And it’s easy on the beautiful days, when the sun is shining and the pollinators are zooming between gorgeous blooms. Yet it can do us good to recall that not all aspects of nature are those picture-perfect moments; be it the dirt (in which the decomposed plant matter nourishes today’s flowers) or the unpleasant mosquitos that play a role in the ecosystem… there’s any number of examples of the enjoyable aspects of nature, and the less-than-desirable parts as well.

Yet in the mess, there’s grace. In the dirt, or river-side muck, or slippery eels, or pervasive weeds - whatever is distasteful to us is still a part of God’s creation. And thus: we are given the chance to see the grace, the goodness, the divine.

It can be difficult, as we are not going to like everything in nature. We are going to find certain aspects of the created order unpleasant and prefer to avoid them. We as humanity have tried to subdue nature, to overpower it, to deny its fullness; and in doing so have distanced ourselves from the creation (and from the Creator).

So we are reminded that we are still called to love all of creation: to find ways to interconnect, to collaborate, to share in this expression of divine love. For every organism here has as much value as we do; we are all striving to find out place and space, in ways that allow us to flourish without encroaching on others. God didn’t create mistakes.

The trouble comes when we situate ourselves as better than others, as above the mess; instead of acknowledging that we too can be messy. It’s a humble stance to learn, to shed the ubiquitous sense that we are the top of all beings; yet this season invites us to do just that.

So in this season of creation, as our churches remind us of the need to focus on the beauty of creation and a role within it, let’s not forget the messes. For God’s blessings are there too.

On Ice and Access

This summer, I’ve been going through a lot of ice cubes. I didn’t use to drink my water with ice; sure, the trays were always in the freezer with cubes should I want them… I just didn’t seem to want them.

The main difference this summer is that I now have a fridge with an automatic ice maker. So I don’t even need to open the freezer door to get the ice; there’s no search for the trays and struggling to release the cubes.

Getting ice has never been an onerous task for me, but this one little shift in access has made a difference.

I reflect on how accessible we make our faith.

Could our personal faith nurture be easier - does an app make it easier for daily office, is there a Christian library or bookstore within proximity, are we comfortable discussing faith with friends?

Could our shared worship be made more accessible – from physically getting to church (or online), to how we’re greeted, to understanding what all our Anglican Acronyms stand for?

Are our faith development opportunities accessible – is bible study on a video platform, do we know where to park for a study group, what time of day is best for attendees (and facilitators)?

In all of these, there is no doubt success to be encouraged, but also room for improvements. And while we can always ask people for feedback (yay constructive feedback!), we also need to be open to possibilities that we haven’t even thought of yet. (I never knew I wanted ice so often, until it was right in front of me).

As we consider our fall programming and our personal intentions and practices, may we be open to considering ways that we can offer access, and be open to trying new things. They may work, they may not; but we won’t know until we try. Imagine what’s possible when we strive to make spiritual development a priority for all!

One More Chapter

As an avid reader, I often have multiple books on the go. This summer, I’ve treated myself to a few novels that are outside my normal genres, and a few that are new releases. (My library card is my best friend!)

The challenge with these books, however, is that I want to read them. All. Simultaneously.

The reality of life is that I enjoy doing other things; and sometimes do not get as much reading time as I might prefer. Almost every night, I’m in bed with my novel, long after the dogs have started snoring.

This means I am usually quite keen in the storyline after it’s time for me to turn off the lights… and yet, I continue to tell myself “just one more chapter…” so much so, that there are times when I know my eyes are closed, but I keep holding the book open anyway.

Any reader can attest that the next chapter is of indeterminate length; the last book I finished had a chapter that reached 100 pages, my current novel tends to hover around 5 pages each. Regardless of length, readers always want to conclude that one… more… chapter.

My long-standing reading habits this week had me pondering on the enthusiasm and commitment we make to reading, to engage in the next section full of unknowns.

What in our faith journey has us that enticed? What aspect of service would make us want to stay up late to complete? What areas of prayer do we leap into without consideration of how long we may spend in them?

And if we aren’t excited about living our faith to the same extent that we are about our hobbies – why not? What do we need to do to re-engage (like finding a new genre of novel)?

The questions will endure, but I hope the continue the pondering… as reading is a daily aspect of my life, so too ought my faith be put into action on such a regular basis.

 

Ready to be Colourful

A few weeks ago, I noticed pens on sale… so I got some.

..Then a colleague’s desktop inspired me to renew my stash of sticky notes.
…Then markers and highlighters, price reduced in the back-to-school section, found themselves in my home office.
….And a good selection of binder clips never goes astray when I’m organising my desk.
It’s a colourful abundance of organisational delights!

Alas; I have fallen into the late(r) summer practice of refreshing my stationery supplies!
Normally, this happens when I have a particular task in mind, or find myself on the cusp of a new project.
But not this year; (I am not going back to school, despite having not been a student for over 3 years now. 3 years! A new record.).

What I am feeling is general inspiration, and appreciation.
These supplies are not stocking my desk in preparation for a known entity; instead they sit there waiting for the unknown. For when an unplanned, unexpected burst comes.

Because this happens, when we are feeling at home in ourselves; when our external surroundings and our internal souls align into that happy place.
We want to express that goodness, regardless of what the outcome may be.
For to embrace the creative is to acknowledge the creator, and the createdness that we ourselves are (and are a part of).

I don’t yet know how these supplies will be used; from colouring books to mapping an outline to coordinating old photos – who knows! They may be used tomorrow, or left in their packages until fall.
But they are there: waiting to be unpacked and used. Not unlike the spiritual gifts that we are given. To use, to share, to extend, to bless.
So let’s break out the colourful nature of our lives, and enjoy the time and potential that lies before.

Making Connections

Some weeks ago, my old FitBit broke. It wasn’t a huge surprise; I’ve had it for many years, and I am not always the most careful person. Over time, it had acquired several cracks on the screen, I’d gone through 4 or 5 straps, there was a mysterious chip out of the back metal part…

So when it finally one day just stopped: oh well.

Fortunately, I am in a position where I could get myself a newer model; still nothing fancy (I am hard on my devices!) but nice enough to accomplish what I want.

However, I was left with the proprietary charger, and the left-over strap from the old device. It would have really been easy to just toss away, but on a whim I offered it on the local free-recycling group. I didn’t expect it to go anywhere, but there was no harm holding on to it for a little bit longer.

As it turns out, there was someone else in the group that had been looking for that charger… they’re no longer available for purchase, and without it, their FitBit hadn’t worked in months. So we arranged a time for the exchange.

When we met, this person was absolutely delighted. We had a lovely conversation, they asked about the church and I was able to give them a walk-through. We spoke about faith and spiritual journeys and the power of prayer. The interaction was only maybe 15 minutes, but it was positive for us both.

We never know how we are going to find connections, and we are not able to predict the outcome of them. But if we don’t make any effort, we definitely won’t have them. It would have been easy for me to just bin that cord, but instead it served to connect – in more ways than one.

While we know the importance of connections, and we value our established ones, it can also be helpful to remember that not every connection needs to be a deep or long one to be of benefit. God puts a lot of people into our paths each day, and puts us into the paths of a lot of others. When we’re fortunate enough to make a connection, whether it’s long or short, we can choose to see the holiness of the moment, and delight in the unexpected ways we've been brought together.