I find the Christmas season is hard to untangle as a pastor, as a mom, and really just as a person. So many of our cultural customs have faith stories conflated with consumerism. I love how Christmas lights interrupt the darkness of our shortest days…
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In the spring, I’m a rugby coach. I’m also a lot of other things, but in the spring, I live in my rugby sweatshirt. I love the smell of the earth—the dirt softening and giving way to grass. I love that it is a sport that draws together an eclectic group of players, a few who are naturally athletic or have played other sports, but also many for whom this is it, a hodgepodge of misfits finding a place to belong…
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Most years I have come to long for Lent, and this year perhaps more than most. I’m not sure how I was first initiated into practicing this season but it likely began with noticing the change in liturgical colours decorating my rural Protestant church. Purple must have captured my imagination…
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Growing up, Christmas was a relatively quiet experience. My mom often worked through the holidays, and living on a hobby farm meant we weren’t going far if we were to go anyway. The one day I’d look forward to was the one day my aunt, uncle and cousin would come to visit…
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My son and I went on a mini bike trip this summer. We pedalled about 250 km from Saskatoon to Moose Jaw over three days. It was a fun little summertime adventure…
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I’ve always needed Lent in a personal way. I have a tendency to fill my plate to overflowing—drawn to every flavour and texture and combination. Wanting to savour every bit, but also rushing to the next so quickly that the richness of each is often compromised…
As I approach Christmas this year it is with a certain resignation. I want to plan. I want to be scrolling through advent liturgies for the kids to read Sunday mornings as our tiny church family joins to light the candles on the advent wreath.
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