I have long prayed the Lord’s Prayer.

I have long uttered the words, “give us this day our daily bread”.

I have maybe never meant it as much as now.

I am learning to really, truly, deeply in my gut believe that God is going to provide enough.

My version of “enough” has maybe been skewed in the past. What I was really asking for was an over-abundance, or certainly more than was needed.

Money is scarce at PNC. On Monday I spent $72 at the grocery store. Honestly every time I go to use the debit card my stomach turns a little with the anticipation that there might not be enough. But there was, and we had a beautiful meal that was shared with more than 100 people.

I am not looking for a lot. I truly am looking for enough- enough to have this community continue into the future. Part of “enough” in this sense is finding a building to house our Monday Drop-In. I admittedly have been getting nervous as we near the end of our time at 201 Cowan Avenue. Well…drumroll, please…

We have a place! We are moving into a space at Bonar-Parkdale Presbyterian Church that is bright, fully accessible, bigger than what we’re leaving and only one block away. They have very warmly welcomed us and extended much grace in terms of rent. This indeed feels miraculous.

We have received our daily bread. And it is, in every sense of the word, enough.

Since I seem to be on a roll with confessions, here’s another one: I find fundraising difficult (says the one endeavouring to raise her own salary and funding for PNC ). The problem is not a lack of faith in what I’m doing. Not only do I love it, I believe in it. I think the problem is that money makes me uncomfortable. I often lament the necessity of money and long for the day it becomes obsolete. The divide between those with much and those with little  is all too obvious. I neither live on the street, nor in a mansion. My reality is that I fall into the middle category. I live in a house with running water, a well-stocked fridge and a warm bed. Certainly relative to much of this world I am indeed rich.

So how do I proceed?

One of my favourite authors, Henri Nouwen, wrote a book called “A Spirituality of Fundraising”.  This little book has proven pivotal for me. In it Nouwen says, “fundraising is first of all, a form of ministry. It is a way of announcing your vision, and inviting other people into your vision with the resources that are available to them.” He further points out that, “fundraising is precisely the opposite of begging”.

I asked my daughter Cate to describe what she understands the vision of PNC to be. She said, “you let people in”. How beautifully straightforward and totally worth announcing.

I’m not here to beg. I’m not here to guilt anyone in to giving. For those of you who know me you’ll know this to be true. I’m simply here to extend the invitation to come in. Come in to share a meal, come in to make some art, come in to talk about your doubts, come in to have a chat, come in to discover how participating looks for you. I am grateful no matter what you decide, whether it be to get involved, support from afar or simply remember that this ministry exists.

The invitation stands: come on in. Let’s co-create something beautiful.

Having recently celebrated a birthday, I had reason to ponder the passage of time. Time, in my opinion, is a very strange thing. I often look at my daughter and can’t recall when she wasn’t with us and yet I cannot believe I am the mother of an almost 10-year-old. I look at my nephew and can remember the moment I first held him and yet he’s almost four, the same amount of years it has been since my Dad died. Oh time, where do you go?

I have a pretty vivid memory of being a young child and having a chat with my great-grandmother. I was small and she seemed so BIG. I remember her white hair and fragile skin. She told me that while she was in her nineties, she still felt seventeen inside. I admit that I couldn’t believe what my young ears were hearing. Now I get it.

I am someone who has never been good at guessing someone’s age. Nor do I love announcing my own. It’s not really that I fear aging, it’s actually that I have come to believe age just doesn’t matter. When I was a teen everyone thought I was older than I was; now people think I’m younger than I am. Some might argue this is a good thing, but for me it has always presented a huge challenge. I oftentimes feel like I don’t quite fit. So, I have decided to not worry about my age- in fact, I honestly have to occasionally figure out what age I am.

I am grateful for life and certainly thankful for the opportunity to experience another birthday. Yesterday at the PNC Drop-In countless people said, followed by a wink: “so Erinn, this is number 22 right?”.

Yes, 22 again. And again.