Monthly Archives: September 2013

It grows on one

The one being me.

The other day as I was driving back from Moose jaw towards Caronport I found myself looking off at the horizon and thinking; “God has made some beautiful country out here.”  There is a hill actually that I had not paid attention to before and it caught my eye thinking of Psalm 121.  “I lift my eyes up to the hills, Does my help come from there?”  No.  The presence of God does not depend on the presence of hills or mountains or trees or any created thing.  They are nice to look at but they are really only signposts to the one who created them and who is always present.

Then I joined a house church group (which is really more like a small group than a separate church gathering) and the scripture we delved into was Psalm 121.  I got to know some local people and I think I needed that as much as the reminder that God’s presence is constant – hills or no hills.

So this Sunday I am making a trek into Moose Jaw to check out the Anglican church which has a very welcoming web site and since I now know a couple others who attend there, I am hoping to find a home away from home there.  I find myself longing for the richness of liturgy and should get a good dose there.

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So is this a place I can connect?

This morning I decided to attend one of the two churches in town. I suspect the are both fairly similar in their theologies but the one I went to is the more “laid back” I guess. The group calls itself “The Gathering” and there were probably 300+ people worshiping this morning. I may have been almost the most senior of the group. It was OK as far as a service went. The music was OK – most of the songs were familiar. The leader did go overboard a bit on her lyrical additions but I guess it wasn’t too much.
I sat by myself. After awhile a young woman and her child joined me and I didn’t feel quite so much by myself. But i did feel as if I would love to have someone notice that I was new, ask me my name, speak to me, welcome me, something. I guess with all the new students maybe there were just too many of us newcomers.
Lessons learned – never ignore a visitor. They may need to feel less alone.
So, I will see if this place is where I fit. I wish I could find someplace welcoming, with just enough liturgy to help me feel the richness of life in the body. Not stuffy but connected to the church universal in a significant way.

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And Here I am, Far from Home

It’s Friday night and here I sit in my room, Greek texts out, reviewing for a quiz on Monday.  I’ve been doing this most of the day off and on.  Yesterday too.  Well, actually, I rode on my bike over to the library both days and worked at this same subject there for a few hours.  And I watched a bit of TV. The woman I am living with has a little white dog so I also walked it around the block so it could use the outdoor facilities.  The fresh air did my mind no harm.  Having my head stuck in a book is beginning to feel very restrictive.

I know all this will pass – if I indeed do pass these Greek classes.  And others have before me so there is some hope.  I hang on to this hope as my brain fills up with participles and verb tenses.

Caronport is a weird sort of little town.  An island of protestant conservatism. There isn’t much to do here but study.  The Husky station has a Subway and a little restaurant and food store attached.  One can buy eggs and milk and bread and other essentials like ice cream but that is about it for eating or retail establishments.  On the plus side of the town’s report card – no one would think of stealing a bike so no need to lock it up.  Unlocked doors also feel a bit weird – trusting strangers with unprotected possessions.

Lord forbid that there should be a pub.  I think one has to smuggle strong drink in behind these unlocked doors!  Think I may just conceal a bottle of wine in my suitcase next trip down from PA. I could use a glass right now.

The town is very flat.  This is a bonus when riding a bike but I keep looking for some place of beauty – some site to feast one’s eyes on.  Some people seem to put a great effort into their yards but there is little in the way of natural beauty.  Until one looks at the sky and the horizon at sunset.  God seems to have stored up all the missed beauty from the flat landscape and poured it out into colour on the horizon both to greet and to bid farewell to the day.  And so as I sit in the morning by my window talking to God, I give him special thanks for this beauty which he paints above me.  “Let my soul rise to meet you, as the day rises to meet the sun.” And as I say those words I remember that God is a constant presence – my unfailing companion – even in this time away from so many people and things that I love. The sun continues to rise; God continues to be my God; I continue to search for more of him.

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Filed under Day to Day, Dealing with stuff, prayer, Reflections, Studying, Travels