Blessings that fall to the earth
and stay a while.
Blessings that cover and soften
all they touch.
Blessings that announce change
​whether you are ready or not.

Our September worship gathering fell the day before the Autumnal Equinox. To mark this seasonal threshold, we explored how balancing between seasons invites us to reflect on paradoxes. 

The BTS Center website has some Earthbound Practices, one of which is called “Pocketful of Paradox.” It reminds us that we are both made of dust and fearfully and wonderfully made. We can hold these two truths at once, and they are what it means to be human. 
Creation and seasonal shifts also remind us that we are not caught in dualities. A day is made up not of either day or night, but of both day's light and night’s darkness, and various gradations in between. And, as we mark the Autumn equinox here, others in the southern hemisphere are celebrating the Spring equinox. Our reality isn’t the only reality. And, while many of us may prefer long days over long nights, the truth is our bodies and many of our more than human neighbours benefit from the dark as much as we do the light. "Opposites" are encoded into the cycles of creation, and it invites us to contemplate the aspects of endings, beginnings, balance and paradox. The ability to work within polarities, hold  the tension of opposites, reflect on paradoxes and navigate transitions and endings are the invitations of the Autumn Equinox.  

Take time this month to wander and wonder around these questions:
What (who) draws your attention as you wander? Do you notice anything exhibiting balance, tension, or holding paradox? What does it want you to know?

We closed by reading these words from Richard Wagamese, from the book Embers. 

​What's needed are eyes that focus with the soul.
What's needed are spirits open to everything.
What's needed are the belief that wonder is the glue
of the universe and the desire to seek more of it.
Be filled with wonder.

Our August forest church gathering was led by Michele and Henriette. They guided us in an 8-direction prayer, and read from John 1:1 which is often translated, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."

Referencing the book, Church of the Wild, by Victoria Loorz, Michele shared an alternative translation of the Greek word logos, translated in most modern bibles as "word," but which can also be translated as "conversation," or a relational force. Consider how this sounds:

In the beginning was the Conversation, 
and the Conversation was with God,
and the Conversation was God.
This was with God in the beginning.
All things came into being through this,
and apart from this nothing came
into being that has come into being...
And the Conversation became flesh
and dwelt among us.
(John 1:1-4)

Before our wandering time, Henriette invited us to reflect on the land that raised us, and as we wandered, to see if any conversation between that place and this place where we were gathered arose. What did the land want us to hear or remember or know? 

Walking through the forest at Bechtel Park in a mid-August heat wave, I noticed many signs of stress and damage on the plants in the forest. 

I respectfully found a few items that seemed appropriate to use in the making of a mandala down by our worship spot along Laurel Creek. When I make mandalas, I like the simple, repetitive nature of the circular pattern. It feels complete and whole. I also like the ephemeral nature of them - it will succumb to the elements, or to disturbances by other creatures. It is a celebration of creation, decay, and decomposition. 

As I walked back to the parking lot, I reflected on how nothing in nature is wasted. Everything that comes into existence eventually returns to the earth, offering back nourishment for new life to arise again. The circle of life.

June is strawberry month here in our watershed! The plants bloom early in the month, and by the end, we enjoy fresh, ripe, red strawberries. 
​One of my favourite chapters in Braiding Sweetgrass is "The Gift of Strawberries." Robin Wall Kimmerer writes about how the abundance of wild strawberries in the spring is like a pure gift from the land, and tells a story of picking wild strawberries every June so her mom could make a strawberry pie for her dad for Father’s Day (happy Father’s Day!).
Strawberries grow close to the ground, teaching us about humility. Their runners reach out, starting new plants and forming community. They are first fruits, gifts of abundance, heart berries, a seasonal offering enjoyed by humans and more-than-human alike.
Robin Wall Kimmerer invites us to learn from strawberries - to see abundance rather than scarcity, and to see the world as made up of gifts. She suggests that “A great longing is upon us, to live again in a world made of gifts.”
This month in our worship time, we enjoyed and celebrated God's good gifts of abundance (not scarcity) in the ritual of communion, a feast that makes God's love edible. We shared elements of the earth (bread and wine and strawberries), sharing in abundance and reminding ourselves that these are God's good and beloved gifts, as are we! As always, we offered some of our communion feast back to the land and waters, in recognition of the ways the earth is also broken in these times. We commit to practicing resurrection in the way of the risen Christ!

Where do you see abundant gifts around you?
Where do you see brokenness?
How do you practice resurrection?
​

Hosanna whisper the hepatica,
First ephemerals of the forest floor.

Hosanna groan the elder beach,
Succumbing to disease.

Hosanna sing the nuthatches,
Drowned out by the roar of traffic.

Hosanna proclaim the deadwood,
Offering life to others.

Hosanna spoke the oak,
Matriarch of this place.

Hosanna shouted the stones,
When the people were silent.

- Wendy Janzen

Inspired by Palm Sunday passage in Luke where Jesus says that if the people were silent, then the rocks would cry out, as I listened to the voices of the forest around me on a Sunday afternoon walk through Breithaupt Park. 

Hosanna means "save us."
​

At our March worship gathering we explored the synchronicity between the church season of Lent (which means to lengthen) and the Spring Equinox when the balance of daylight tips to longer days.

Lent is 40 days for waking up from winter’s ‘death’ to spring’s ‘resurrection.’ 40 days for wandering in the wilderness like the Israelites, slowing down and moving at the pace of our soul so we can better listen to and meet God. 

We are living in a time of chaos and events that cause a lot of uncertainty and stress. How can we use this season of Lent to wake up to and walk in life-giving light and love, anchoring us through unsettling times?

This is what the Lord says:
“Stand at the crossroads and look;
ask for the ancient paths,
ask where the good way is, and walk in it,
and you will find rest for your souls.”
— Jeremiah 6:16
​
This month, as you find yourself wandering outdoors, ask yourself these questions: 

• What do you notice waking up?
• What wants you to slow down and notice/listen?
• Where/how is God showing up?
• What does your soul need in order to find rest? 
• How can you walk in the good way?