Monday, January 30, 2017

Our Response to Hate Violence in Québec City and SUNDAY'S PEACE WALK

The madness has found its way here...

I invite you to join me in prayers of mourning in these days that follow the planned assassinations of innocent people at prayer.  Join me in praying for the Muslim community in Québec City, here in Deep River, and in every Muslim community cross Canada as they pray for the six men who were shot and killed, the many injured, and for those families who contend with the grief of losing loved ones and friends as a result of the horrible consequences of such SENSELESS VIOLENCE.

This is what has found its way here to the shores of our country.  But something that has been here much longer must not be eclipsed, and it must not only endure, it must continue to thrive: our common and earnest desire as Muslims and Christians to live the life of peace which both the Qur’an and the Bible call us to embody and sustain in prayer. 

If we remain silent, if our prayers do not rise together as the children of Abraham and Sarah, then our silence will only contribute to the inertia which engenders these heinous crimes.   Please join me in praying for the peace which I believe can only be achieved and sustained nonviolently.

Salaam, peace,


Thank you to everyone who was able to join us Sunday February 12th for the Deep River Peace Walk.  We had an incredible crowd of people come out in the middle of the snowstorm to march and share the love of peace within our community!  Thank you to all those who helped organize this event!

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Lost in January.....

Looking out our back patio door to the laneway.
I was just shoveling snow.  But it was such a beautiful January day, as it can be here in Deep River.  The air was cold and crisp and there was no wind to make me change my mind about staying outside.  The snow was the kind that is mercifully light on my aging bones; there was little real effort involved in moving it around - even with 15 centimetres on the ground.  I had gotten into a rhythm that was not too taxing and I was able to just go along with what I wanted to do – and then I was lost!
I had thoroughly fallen into what I was doing; I was able to watch my breath leave my body, feel the weight of the shovel and its easy load, then heft it over the bank in the most satisfying arc.  It became magical, but not the kind of magic that makes you wonder how it’s done; it was the kind of magic that makes you thankful for being a part of that sense of wonder that is so delicious to behold.  I could hear the pileated wood peckers calling back and forth down in the park – must have been time for lunch! I could see the steam rise from my hat when I took it off, I could hear the sound of my feet sinking beneath the surface of the snow; a subtle sound that only happens when the snow is what the Inuit call pukak, little crystals on the ground.  I was standing in, lifting, and throwing little crystals!
I laughed out loud at the joy of it all.  I quickly looked around to see if the neighbours had heard me – my sanity was safe.  So, I gave thanks out loud for being reminded of just how wonderful it can be to be alive…