I remember one of those rare times my dad told me a story about his wartime experiences, about his unit’s Chaplain and his unshakable faith. After a long day out on patrol near enemy lines in Italy his unit had found a deserted home to spend the night in. After they ate dad noticed the Chaplain seated by the window catching the last of the daylight, reading. Dad approached him and asked him “Padre, don’t you think you are taking an awful risk sitting there by the window?”. The answer he got was a calm, “son, if the good Lord is ready for me today, it wont matter where I’m sitting” and he returned to his book.

My mind went back to that story many times as I read Walsh’s book. He, who possessed that unquestioned trust in the one to whose hands he had entrusted his life. Walsh recounts her struggles to learn to take the leap of faith that let her trust as he had. She didn’t emerge from the battlefields of war ravaged Italy, she emerged instead from the war within that clinical depression engages us in.

That trust and the peace that comes with it didn’t come to her in a flash of almighty insight. It came to her one small piece and step at a time as she learned Christ doesn’t take us out of the pain that life brings us, he comes to hold us as we go through it together. She takes the reader through her own journey, not back to where she was before depression crumpled her but forward to where her growing trust in the Father was leading her, a step at a time. Read the rest of this entry

Today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the holy season of Lent. Lent is the fourty days leading up to Holy Week, a period of thought and reflection before we celebrate the risen Lord on Easter Sunday.

I’m providing you today with a link to a set of Stations of the Cross which I wrote a few years ago.

Central to our belief is that Christ walked amongst us, tried to reach out to us as one of us and became the sacrificial lamb for all of our sins through the crucifixion and resurrection.

The stations are used as focal points for prayer, mediation and reflection on the journey Christ took in the hours leading up to and during his crucifixion. I’ve put them online for those who wish to explore.

Today is Valentine’s Day, that day when traditionally couples express their undying love for each other. Well in some cases, hubby had better express it or momma wont be happy.

I’m a single these days, have been for the last 20 years. When Frank was alive Valentine’s Day wasn’t ignored, it just wasn’t able to be much of a deal. Frank, ever the romantic, would at some point during the day (likely when enough commercials reminded him what day it was) would say to me, “Hey it’s Valentine’s Day!”. I’d nod and he’d continue, “you should have got yourself something.”

Frank was never much on shopping, his idea of giving a gift was to hand me money and tell me to buy something for myself. I was never much into gifts I had to figure out myself, besides I had what I wanted, I had him. In the early years after he died I was hostile towards Valentine’s Day. It was a reminder to me of what I had lost. For all his rough edges, he had loved me and I loved him. Read the rest of this entry

They shall grow not old, as we who are left grow old
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning
We will remember them

In memory of our fallen Canadian:

Cpl Joshua Caleb Baker — Afghanistan February 12, 2010

Always Caring — Always Canadian — Never Defeated

Support Our Troops — Wear Red on Fridays

Last Sunday evening I attended a Legion tribute for Comrade Helen Horne, a member of the Trenton Branch. She died last Wednesday following a massive stroke. Considering she had beat four bouts of cancer, there is almost an irony that it was a stroke who took her away from us.

Comrade Helen was the much beloved wife of our Chaplain at the Zone, District & Provincial levels, Padre Sid Horne, a retired Anglican cleric, had served in the military amongst his various ministry posts. Sid & Helen were a study in contrasts — he as tall as she was short; he every bit the extrovert, her very much an introvert; he enjoyed the limelight, she enjoyed the shadows. What the two of them shared were hearts as big as any could imagine, faith as strong as God himself and compassion which encompassed all who came within their loving embrace.

One never had to wonder what the two thought of each other, their love and mutual devotion was clear to anyone who chose to look. I don’t believe in all the time I had the privilege of being around them I ever heard a cross word pass between them. They would readily share the stories of the other’s exploits and foibles but always with a perspective of the humour. Read the rest of this entry