When I was a kid, I assumed that adults had it all together—they knew what they were doing, they had everything under control, and all was well. As an adult, I realize that that is simply not true. We are all making it up as we go along. Most of the time we have no idea what we are doing, and adults behave like children just as often as children do, only it is more frustrating because we feel that “they should know better” because they are older.

All around us we hear managers say they wish their direct reports could just do their job without having to be told, or without having to be monitored for every task or action. We hear people complain about their co-workers, but have never tried to address the issue with them directly. We see staff resist change when it hasn’t been clearly explained or defined.

I see it when I’m driving around town: drivers speeding, running red lights and stop signs, bobbing and weaving trying to shave 30 seconds off their commute. They’re blowing through residential and school areas at twice the speed limit, ignoring the signs on the buses, and failing to yield or merge properly. They’re all legally adult people who “should know better.” We all had to pass the road test, folks.

Basic human behaviour knows no age limits. We see evidence of this everywhere: at home, at work, at school, at church, in the Bible—yes I said that—everywhere. People are afraid of new things, they struggle to believe in things that they cannot prove or see, they don’t follow the rules if they think no one is watching, they want to take the easiest route to get what they want. They react in anger, and are quick to place blame or try to enact revenge rather than deal with, accept, or understand the situation at hand.

Before anyone gets offended, no, I don’t mean everyone! Certainly, there are a selection of folks who do follow the rules, even when no one is watching. There are many who have strong faith in things they cannot see or prove. There are also plenty of effective managers out there, and people who can communicate their feelings clearly and respectfully. All of these are learned skills and behaviours. Skills that require a level of maturity and insight, self-restraint, and open mindedness that many people do not practice. It is time for us to evolve as a species and do better.

I don’t know what the answer is, but personally and professionally I would like to see a shift from the “all about me” culture to a more enlightened, compassionate, and respectful way of life. I truly believe it is what we are called to do.

The post The Myth of Being “An Adult”: We Are Called to Do Better appeared first on Anglican Life.

I have known others to undertake similar commitments. A dry January, February or Lent. I never understood why, nor did I have a desire to do so myself. I don’t know what changed, but certainly I did feel like it was getting out of hand.

A Lenten commitment would probably have made more sense. It is a time when we often deprive ourselves of something that brings pleasure. I gave up coffee for Lent one year; I’m not allowed to do that any more. Sometimes I’ve started a new, healthy or productive habit like a book study. Lent, however, is 6 weeks long and February only has 28 days, so February won out.

As I prepare to submit this column on the last day of dry February, I thought I would share some reflections on my fast.

It wasn’t as hard as I thought, but it was challenging. I did not feel physically deprived, but I discovered that I have been using alcohol to self medicate; to help with my anxiety and emotional regulation. While not shocking, I suppose, this discovery was a little unsettling. There were some days I didn’t miss it at all, but others where I really did miss having that drink while cooking supper or unwinding after a long day. I also felt extra irritable as a result and that was unpleasant for everyone around me as well.

I had hoped that I would start to feel differently, maybe better. I hoped I would sleep better, maybe lose a couple pounds, but I can honestly say those were not side effects of cutting out alcohol. As I don’t typically drink to excess, or just to “get drunk” I would not be in a steady state of hangover/recovery. And I found I was eating more, to fill the void, perhaps. I also hoped cutting out alcohol would help my tummy issues, however I don’t think it had a significant impact on that either.

Fasting isn’t supposed to be easy, and this one definitely was not. I did initially consider carrying on through Lent, but have ultimately decided against it. It was an interesting experience, and I feel that I did learn a lot about myself. I think, or I hope, that it has changed my relationship with alcohol for the better. 

I never understood why fasting was important. But now I wonder if the point is to make you think about the choices you make, learn about yourself and grow as a person. If so, I think I did it right.

The post Experiences With A “Dry February” appeared first on Anglican Life.

These are the questions my tired brain has been asking a lot lately. Where is my motivation?

I have never been a big believer in the concept of burnout, for myself. I can completely see how it happens to other people. Single parents, in my book, are absolute superheroes. Healthcare workers in a pandemic are definitely heroes. But for me? Of course not! I have a 9-5 office job and a partner to share the load with at home. What do I have to be burned out about?

Then I find myself wondering aloud to a friend, that there must be more to life than just this grind we are in. Cook, clean, go to work, get kids to school, make sure they get their homework done, take them to the activities, clean some more, cook some more, day in and day out. Don’t forget to eat well, keep active and get enough rest. How exactly can one actually accomplish all that?

There has to be more to it right? Or less? It just doesn’t seem meaningful. What is this feeling?

Yeah, that’s burnout, they say.

Who me? Can’t be!

When you start fantasizing about having any other life than this, I figure it’s a safe bet something is amiss. Turns out even us 9 – 5’ers can get stuck, grinding away at all the daily things, and can no longer see the things that bring us joy, or even find joy in them if we can see them—and that hurts. It is exhausting. It is hard to find the motivation to get up and face yet another day of the grind. My get up and go got up and went.

Which leads me to wonder, how did the disciples do it? How did they go out day in and day out, face persecution and hate, and almost certain death if discovered by the rulers of the day? That is some kind of insanity. I can’t even bear the thought of another weekend spent doing laundry and cleaning bathrooms. No one is threatening my life. I won’t end up nailed to the cross for my convictions, or lack thereof.

Is that simply the power of the Holy Spirit? Was that the inspiration they needed to ride it out, to share the gospel—to bring God’s love to the people? And can we all have that same motivation, inspiration, and passion for our lives and what we do with them?

If we can, I haven’t found it just yet. Or it hasn’t found me. Or maybe I’m too stubborn to let it in.

The post What Keeps Us Motivated? appeared first on Anglican Life.

I asked my kids recently what their favourite part of Christmas was, other than presents. Individually, and independent of each other, they both said, “But mom, presents aren’t my favourite part!” Well, colour me embarrassed. Apparently I don’t give those boys enough credit.

Their answers impressed me. Mr. 11 said he likes the food—turkey, Christmas pudding—and hanging out with his family. He really is my mini me.

Mr. 9 said his favourite part is that it’s Jesus’s birthday, and he likes to celebrate that. Now, part of me wants to melt over that statement, but part of me is also highly suspicious that he is just telling me what he thinks will get the most “brownie points.”

When asked, their dad says his favourite is Terry’s chocolate orange, which made us all laugh, because Daddy sure does love those. But more seriously, he said he loves carolling with the church choir.

For my part, I love it all, but if I had to pick my absolute favourite things about the holiday season it’s the music and the cheesy Hallmark movies. The whole season is just one big reason to be happy and generous and to spend time with all the people you love most. Sign me up!

I do sometimes wonder if any of these things matter. If we had the opportunity to ask Jesus what his favourite part is, what would the answer be? Would he pull up a chair for turkey? Would he want to watch those feel good movies? Would the carols bring a smile to his face?

Or would he tell us we have entirely missed the point? Would he be embarrassed of how we mark the holiday? Overindulgence in the highest order—not what he had in mind for a birthday party, maybe?

For our part, we do also try to share the love of the season, and give to charity, and shop locally, and support the different ministries of the church, ensuring as many people as possible can celebrate the season—at least a little bit.

Is there a right way to do Advent and Christmas? I am inclined to think not. As long as we live the example Jesus set for us it shouldn’t matter. Feed the hungry; clothe the naked; visit the lonely; it’s pretty simple.

We should do these things all year long, certainly, but I think it is also okay to put more emphasis on it during Christmas. We are leading into a long, cold, dark season of winter. The more cheer we can build up the better to get us through until the snow melts and the flowers come back.

What is your favourite part of the holiday season?

The post The Holiday Season: What’s Your Favourite Part? What Would Jesus’ Be? appeared first on Anglican Life.

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I want to help: help the refugees, help save the planet, help those who are in need. We try to do all the right things: we recycle and compost instead of throwing everything in the trash, we buy locally in order to support the economy, we conserve electricity and drive only when and as necessary. We support a number of charities, and generally try to be decent human beings. But what does any of it matter? Our actions in and of themselves aren’t going to change the world!

Or will they? After all, Jesus was just one man, albeit a pretty awesome one, and to be totally fair he had a little help from above. But he also gathered like minded supporters and look how that turned out. Not the crucifixion part of course, but everything that came afterwards. Okay, well not everything; the Church has done and been responsible for some super questionable things. But we also do a lot of good in the world. Right?

Maybe it’s a mid-life crisis (although I hope this is not mid life yet), but I often find it all so insurmountable. No matter what we do, we are just one family, and can we really make any difference?

The kids though—boy they are just designed for social justice. Their enthusiasm for doing what is right gives me hope that someday the adults will get their stuff together and see the world through the eyes of the children. My youngest will often ask about the people he sees in the streets, standing at intersections with a cup out, hoping for some change. He will say that if he had a million dollars he would give it all away so people wouldn’t be homeless. 

Then we have billionaires trying to race each other into space. What sort of sense does that make? Why spend so many resources on exploring the universe when we can’t even take care of the one tiny planet with which we have been entrusted? We can’t even feed and clothe and protect the people in this world. Where does that disconnect happen, and how do we reprogram that? Does all of this seem ridiculous to anyone else? 

I find I have to remind myself that everything starts at the grassroots, just like Jesus did. Seek out like minded individuals, and together we can change the world. It’s all about one step at a time, one day at time, once cause at a time. Progress is slow, but then again, slow and steady still gets us to the end. 

The post Together, We Can Change The World–Slow and Steady Though It May Be appeared first on Anglican Life.

Why does God let that happen, Mama?

I have even been asking myself that question. Who would have thought the end of COVID-19 would mean the start of war? As I write this at the end of February, Putin has only just barrelled into Ukraine, and I shudder to think how far it will have gone before you read this in print.

So how do we explain any of these things to our children in a way that won’t terrify them? I am afraid, and perhaps so should they be. This is a scary thing to be watching unfold. The stakes get ever higher when nations speak of war. Mass casualties are a given. Nuclear war is not off the table. Then what? Is this a sign of the end times?

The Easter story is one of hope. Leading up to Lent, I attended a conversation sermon at church where we read in one of Paul’s letters that in Christ we are transformed and that the Holy Spirit is in us, and because of that we do not lose heart. 

As we journey through Lent and Good Friday, and awaken Easter morning to the empty tomb, we are a people transformed. There is hope! Life can come from death. We do not need to be afraid. We should go boldly and share the Good News, and live out Jesus’ ministry. 

It is okay to be uncertain. It is okay to be fearful of what lies ahead, but I think we should also take the opportunity to do even more to share our faith, our love, our community, with those in need. The times we are living in will surely result in many more who need our help. Many will be displaced and will seek shelter and safety far from home. 

There are so many things to be anxious about, like climate change, war, a new variant, etc. It’s too much some days. So I try to break it into manageable, tiny steps, anything at all to feel productive, like I am doing something to protect my family or help those in need. 

Even little things can help to soothe the stress a tiny little bit. Donate to the food bank; clean the house; give away clothes and toys that we don’t use for those who may be in need. Make sure we have a 72-hour emergency supply of food and water. Double down on cyber security. Hug my kids and tuck them in tight, and pray hard that we get to keep doing it, that the conflict ends peacefully and no more lives are lost. 

I don’t know why bad things have to happen, but we will do everything we can to help make it right. We can’t always control what happens in the world around us, but we can choose how we respond. As for me and my family, we will always try to respond with kindness and compassion, generosity and love.

The post Mama, Why Do Bad Things Happen? appeared first on Anglican Life.

I fully acknowledge and appreciate that we are very fortunate at our house, that both adults have continued to be employed and in such a way that we could keep our children and families safe and follow all the public health measures. But that is not to say it has been easy: it certainly has not. Many things have fallen by the wayside, and regrettably our connection to the church and its ministry is among them.

Prior to all of this pandemic mess, 2019 me was committed to getting us to church on the weekend whenever possible, contributing not just our regular offerings but supporting all the outreach ministries, and taking in whatever events took place. Now I have to admit that when my Facebook notification comes up saying my church is live (i.e. the online service is starting), I usually just swipe it away. It’s not that I don’t like to watch, or enjoy the online service—it is what it is in the times we are living in—but I don’t feel the connection to it all.

To be completely fair, I probably can’t blame the pandemic entirely. Finding connection has always been a challenge. It was easier earlier in life, when I was participating in and/or leading Sunday school and Confirmation, working with the church in various ways, and starting this column. My other half and I went to church regularly, sat on committees, and sang in the choir.

But once the children came along, hoo boy. Time? Who has that? Where does it go? At this point in life we sign up for e-giving to make sure we hit one of the three T’s (time, talent, and treasure), and call it a day. I don’t feel like I have an ounce of anything left to give otherwise. Work, raising kids, keeping the house, and don’t forget hockey for one kid and drums for the other. Maybe I’ll have time when they move out.

I do miss being involved more tangibly. I feel disconnected from the work of the church when I can’t be in it. But I suppose this season will pass and there will be more time when the kids get older and not so dependent on us to attend to all their needs. Likely the pandemic just intensified what would have happened anyway with a young family and so many commitments. I have always felt that it is natural that young families are more absent from church life because it is so hard to balance all the priorities. I guess I hoped it wouldn’t happen to us, but why wouldn’t it really? I think we could all have a little more compassion and understanding for what it takes to be involved in any way, and celebrate whatever it looks like. Maybe that can be our goal for 2022?

The post Struggling For The Connection appeared first on Anglican Life.

My little men are 8 and 10 this year. And while the younger man still whole heartedly accepts my fibs, I got busted by my elder boy when the tooth fairy snuck in just a wee bit too soon one evening after bedtime. He didn’t let on until the next morning, but he quickly extrapolated as to what no tooth fairy meant for the rest of the magic in his holidays. I neither confirmed nor denied his assertions, but I did tell him to leave his brother out of it. I knew I’d been found out.

I did momentarily feel a little sad that some of the magic was gone, but it didn’t last. I have long said I couldn’t wait for the day that we could all share in the magic without the trickery. Santa and the bunny and the tooth fairy can all still exist (and they do!), but everyone (except Mr. 8) is in on it. It is way more fun this way. I knew it would be, even growing up, with siblings much older than myself, we never really spoke the “truth” of Santa and the others. One time I remember mentioning it to my brother when he was 15 and I was only 7, said with total sincerity, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, don’t let mom hear you say that,” when I asked him if Santa was real. So I never did, and we all played along, and still do to some extent. It is the best!

I tell you all of this, because the way I see it, the wonder of Christianity—the baby in the manger, the man on the cross, and all the miraculous things that happened in between—is so much better when we are all in on the secret. It is magical and mysterious, and open to theological interpretation and debate. That makes it even better, when everyone is welcomed into the story, to ask questions and explore. We can better appreciate the awe in it when we start to understand it. We better understand the needs of others when we meet them where they are and sit with them and learn from them. While the whole Santa thing is fun, sharing the secret and having everyone a part of it, is better, at least in my books. Merry Christmas!

The post Welcome Everyone Into The Story appeared first on Anglican Life.

The whole family went to church, for the first time since COVID became a thing, on a Sunday morning over the summer. It was an absolute disaster trying to get out of the house—a situation I brought on myself by completely forgetting I was supposed to be participating in the service! So we were running late and tempers were high. But we got to church and they sat and cooperated, and cuddled, and I was like, “Wow, I sure do feel like I have it all together right now.”

Then inevitably my pride and I (rightfully) get taken down all the notches when the boys act like young boys instead of adults (go figure), and I have to separate them from whatever physical altercation they are having in a very public place. Regrettably, we haven’t grown out of those yet. I am keeping my fingers crossed for someday soon since they are getting too big for me to manage these days.

What I am saying, I guess, is that there are days it is easy to be thankful for many things. Health, happiness, family, friends, it is all pretty wonderful. Then there are days when things are less wonderful. Working the job I do, in the industry I am in, at the 18 month mark in a global pandemic isn’t all fun and games. Add in two boys who still require a lot of supervision, engagement and general hands-on time from the parental units, who also still work full time, and it gets pretty chaotic, stressful, and exhausting.

While I am always thankful, and I try never to take the blessings for granted, sometimes I have to dig a little deeper to get there. I think we all need to dig deep sometimes to unearth the gratitude and appreciation we have buried under the day to day struggles and frustration. We need to pause and really look sometimes to find compassion for ourselves and each other, to show love even when we don’t feel like it, and to send up a prayer of thanks that we can even be here to fight the fight. This Thanksgiving, let’s take time out and really look around. How can we show our gratitude? Where can we find compassion? What is most important to us?

The post Be Willing To Dig Deep To Be Thankful appeared first on Anglican Life.