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When I first emigrated to Canada, a friend took me to an old graveyard where the gravestones stood silently, proudly, like sentries standing guard over those who lay sleeping in the earth beneath.  Each gravestone told a very different tale.  They spoke, silently, of those who had died as infants and as young children.  Many often dying in the first year of life.  The silent stones also of women, young mothers, who died giving birth to life.  They spoke sadly of young men who died in two great wars, laying down their lives in the quest for peace. Often the silent stones listed whole families, telling those who paused long enough to read them, the history of a particular family whose lives were full of so much pain and grief.  They spoke of those who lived long lives in loud contrast to those who had died so very young.  Yes, the silent stones spoke.  In the whispering breeze these silent stones spoke loudly. One gravestone told a chilling tale.  It was the sad tale of young love that
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I remember sitting in the Old Testament Biblical Studies class, and under the guidance and wisdom of O/T professor Marion Taylor, the topic of the day was the Book of Ruth.   It only shows up in the Revised Common Lectionary once every three years and seldom is it used as a starting point for sermons.  The Book of Ruth is, without a doubt, the greatest short story in the Old Testament, as it lays out life lessons around life’s challenges, about grappling with death and loss, and embracing life’s “new normal”.    Let us take a look as to how the story of Ruth opens, (it is only four chapters in length), and then perhaps the life lessons will become clearer for us. In the days when the judges ruled, there was a famine in the land.  So a man from Bethlehem in Judah, together with his wife and two sons, went to live for a while in the country of Moab.  The man’s name was Elimelek, his wife’s name was Naomi, and the names of his two sons were Mahlon and Kilion.  They were Ephra
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Hi, hi, hi, beautiful Sunday! This is my my my beautiful day! When God said, said, said, said that He loved me Oh my, my, my its a beautiful day! Buttercups bright eyed and bold, hold their chalices of gold to catch the sunshine and the dew. ~Julia Caroline Dorr ~ To saunter is to walk in a slow, relaxed manner, without hurry or effort.  To be surrounded by  the beauty and presence of the Creator. Nature is the art of God. Dante Alighieri
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************************************** When tears are falling and minds are sad,  When life seems robbed of the bliss it had, When hearts seem empty, bereft and lone,  When treasured gifts are no longer known, It is then, it is then that Christ will draw near,  And lovingly and tenderly dry each tear. He knows the anguish, the grief, the pain,  He understands the tears than rain, The hearts deep hunger, the loneliness,  The loss, emptiness, and when depressed, It i then, it is then, that Christ will draw near,  And lovingly, tenderly, wipe each tear. Anonymous Almighty and All-loving God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, we pray to you through Christ the Healer for those who suffer from the Coronavirus Covid-19 across  the world. We pray too for all who reach out to those who mourn the loss of  each and every person who has died as a result of contracting the disease. Give wisdom to policymakers, skill to healthcare professionals and researchers, comfort to e
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NATURE'S MYSTICAL HEALING POWER

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Setting out on my Monday morning run, following the snow storm we had on Saturday, followed by rain, which then froze everything overnight, the canal trail was pretty well impassable.  There were footprints, and 4wheeler tire tracks, and even bicycle tracks, and the usual dog tracks, made the trail fully of ridges, bumps and holes,and then there were the hudden icy spots.  A recipe for a sprained ankle or even a fall. . Just one minute on the trail soon alerted me to the idea that it might be better and smarter to run on the road as it had been plowed and sanded.  So off I set, under brillaint sunshine, blue, cloudless skies, and a pretty good breeze, that with a temperature of -10C, it was pretty cold on the face, and probaly was closer to -15C.
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~ THE HEALING POWER OF NATURE ~ For me, my morning runs are a spiritual retreat.  I have a "place" where I love to go.    It is quiet.  There are no cars, maybe a few cyclists, some people walking their dogs,  and, every once in a while, not very often though, there are some runners. This place, which has become a sacred space for me, is known as Port Robinson,  but don't let the idea of a "port" fool you, as there is only a small ferry terminal,  that ferries cyclists, runners and walkers over to the other side of the canal. The ferry only operates during the months of May through October, as the canal  can often freeze over given the right conditions, so during the winter months  my sacred space is usually devoid of people, except for a few folk out  walking their dogs and who I suspect live in the area close to the canal. The other morning, a few weeks ago now, back in early November, while running along  the canal pat
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~ THE HEALING POWER OF NATURE ~ After years of walking right past it on my way to chores in the meadow, I actually paid attention to a certain gnarly canyon live oak one day.   Or maybe it was ready to show  itself to me.   I felt its old ness, suchness, inwardness, oakness, as if it were my own.    Such intimacy makes you totally at home in life and in yourself. ~ Gary Snyder ~ DOWN COUNTRY ROADS ~ AUTUMN GLORY GLORIOUS GLENARIFF - QUEEN OF THE GLENS 
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For Christians the act of remembering is something that not only  happens  each and every Sunday, but also each day of the year.  We remember, not only the saints and martyrs of the Christian faith,  but we remember those who are sick, and also the dying. We remember those  who grieve, and those who have asked us to pray for them in our daily prayers. . On the Sunday before Remembrance Day, it is the custom of the Anglican Church  to participate in an act of remembrance. As we gather we "re-member"  ourselves to those brave men and women as we remember their  ultimate sacrifice of war that we might live in freedom and peace. . Remembrance Sunday is a time of solemn prayers and worship,  as we give thanks for those who have fought and died in the two  great wars, also the Korean War, and more recently in Afghanistan.  We also remember those who have survived the horrors of war  and  as lives unfold, left to struggle with the memories of war. . War, ever
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AUTUMN ~ MYSTICAL ~ BEAUTIFUL ~ MAJESTIC This time of the year it's the same great story, When all the trees are dressed in their glory. Before the leaves die and fall to the ground, They're dressed in their bright Autumn gowns. So, this time of the year we pause to give thanks, For fields and forests, for lakes, even river banks. The colours of reds, yellows, greens and browns, Leaves dance in the breeze in their Autumn gowns I am reminded of the words of one Meister Eckhart, Whose words of wisdom to you I now seek to impart, "If the only prayer you ever say is thanks, that will be enough." You'll agree, I hope, his words of wisdom are really good stuff! I went for my usual Saturday morning 10k "canal" run, It was grey and overcast with no hint of the rising sun. But wow! those bright red leaves on the Sumac Trees, Like some great mystical flag just a-blowing in the breeze. Every corner I turned, there it wa
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