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Go, Rest, Come Back

As of tomorrow, I will be on vacation for a month. This has been my rhythm for the last number of years, which is maybe why my body started anticipating the rest about a month ago. For a variety of reasons, I felt like I was hitting a wall in July. I think of Sunday as the start of my work week and for the last three in a row I found myself unusually anxious.

In those uneasy moments, most acute as I was travelling to The Dale, I prayed. In my weakness I asked for strength. In my fatigue I asked for energy. In my sadness I asked for joy. Sometimes I just sat there not knowing what to ask for at all. I cried. I listened to music. And then as I arrived at my destination, I took a deep breath and decidedly put one foot in front of the other.

Things didn’t slow down in July. But somehow, in a beautiful and spirit-led way I was sustained through it.

It’s never easy saying a long “see you later” to my beloved community at The Dale. Together we understand life to be fragile: a lot can change very quickly (something we know all too well from experience). Having said that, rest is important. In order to be in this for the long haul, I must retreat and replenish. My friends affirm this and keep telling me to go with their blessing. One person continually says, “I don’t like that you’re leaving, but I GET it. Go. Rest. Come back.”

Soon I will be picking Cate up at the camp she has been at since the beginning of the summer. Dion and I are looking forward to having her home and hearing all her stories. With the last bits of the house renovation nearly done, it will be nice to continue settling in. There will be a trip to visit friends, some time at a cabin, and many stay-cation activities, hopefully all punctuated with some serious sleep and a lot of reading.

Thank you to Joanna, Meagan and Pete who not only make time like this possible but do so in such a generous and caring way; to the Board, for always having my back; to our community who models what it means to both give and receive; and to Dion and Cate for supporting and loving me, spurring me on to live well into the tension of work and rest.

Happy August everyone. See you soon.

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Subversive Joy

I am/we are witness to a whole lot of pain at The Dale. And yet, there is joy.

At The Dale we work hard to create a safe space for all of us to go below the surface and acknowledge what is really going on in our lives. Many of us can’t hide the hard stuff even if we tried. We are trying to work equally hard at practicing gratitude, celebrating things large and small, and unearthing joy.

Living in this tension is not easy. In an effort to honour that we are all broken, we can too easily dwell there, making it easy to then swing in the opposite extreme: expecting people to put on a happy face all the time.

I have been thinking about all of this a lot. How does joy spring out of trial? I don’t need to look far for inspiration. It comes when “Sarah’s” prayers share the anguish of not being able to grasp how grace might cover her AND the surprise gifts she just received; when “Jim” has to go to the food bank, but is given an abundance of one item and now has the opportunity to share the bounty with friends; when “Fred” grieves the loss of every single one of his blood relatives and beams when talking about his new chosen family.

In this sense, joy actually becomes a subversive act. It pushes against the things that threaten to push us down. Joy doesn’t require that we ignore brokenness: it can be strengthened by it.

At various points this year I have been burdened with sorrow. The weight of circumstances heavy upon my shoulders and heart. The thing that steadies my heart is slowing down, lifting my eyes to where my help comes from, and declaring my faith again and again. In those moments I am reminded that it is possible to not have joy stolen away.

This week I hope to live well into this mystery. I want to acknowledge those things that are hard, the places I am weak, the gratitude I feel, and allow myself to be surprised by joy.

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Room at the Table

I have long been convinced that when a group of people gathers around a table a unique form of community is built. Learning to be side-by-side, passing the platter, pouring one another a drink: it all helps.

Much of life at The Dale involves a table. On Mondays we have multiple long tables set up around the room. On Tuesdays we play Scrabble around one at the back of the Salvation Army Thrift Store. In the summer we find ourselves sitting at picnic tables in parks. On Thursdays we set three tables up like a huge T. On Sundays our focal point is a little wooden table, laden with the bread, wine and juice.

Oh, the stories we have about life at the table.

The Dale has its own version of Statler and Waldorf, the two grumpy guys from The Muppet Show. They like to sit across from each other even though they drive each other crazy. We sometimes try to (unsuccessfully) split them up, only to discover them reunited and carrying on with their banter.

Sometimes a person comes in so distraught that they collapse at a table. One day a friend stumbled in and placed her head down. I joined her, leaning as close to the tabletop as she was. We exchanged thoughts in whispers. Her hiccupy crying the only thing audible to the rest of the room. To this day we both reference this encounter as pivotal to our friendship.

At a drop-in by the lake, two unlikely friends sat at the picnic table. She invited him to lay down on the bench while gently stroking his hair. We wanted to freeze the moment in time: a sweet escape from their otherwise challenging realities.

Just after blessing the communion elements, a community member joined me at the table to begin the process of passing each around. This friend, battle-worn and vulnerable, looked me right in the eye and in reference to the bread said, “get it in you”.

As staff we sit around a kitchen table on Wednesday mornings. It’s where I sit while writing this. We bat around ideas, type in collective silence, laugh, and eat. It is an important part of team building.

All these moments remind me of how important it is to extend welcome to the tables we like to count as ours. We want to make space at The Dale. This increasingly means gathering even more closely together so that we can make space for another chair. At tables we can share our brokenness and offer blessing. Whether we are grumpy or cheerful, connected or lonely, weary or energetic, there is room at the table.