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A Complicated Christmas

Advent is upon us. Christmas is near.

This is a complicated month for many. I struggle with discerning how to move through this season with The Dale, a community that acknowledges how hard Christmas can be when one has lost or is estranged from family, when money is scarce and the weather is cold. Most of us feel deep resentment at the commercialization of it all.
Some would prefer to close their eyes and have them open on January 1st. For many this is not “the most wonderful time of the year”.

It is because of these sentiments that I long to strip away the trappings of Christmas and look at the overall story. When we lit our first advent candle last Sunday, we were invited to think of the hope that its light represents. Advent provides us with an opportunity to remember that Jesus was, is and is to come. We are asked participate in this hope, to wait with longing for the story to be made complete.

On Wednesday night, as we do every week, a group of us wandered around Parkdale. One of our community members commented that he is becoming a healthier human since becoming involved with The Dale. I asked him what he meant. He described how isolated he used to be, that he never had contact with anyone other than his pets. Now he has friends. Bit by bit he is drinking and smoking dramatically less, losing pounds and finding God. He proudly announced, “I’m not even dreading Christmas”.

I couldn’t stop smiling. My friend has discovered, kind of like the Grinch, that Christmas doesn’t evaporate when you take away the gifts, the tree, the ornaments or even the ‘roast beast’. As lovely as those things are (and we will even bring some of those things to The Dale), this season is about remembering the arrival of Jesus, anticipating the time when He will rule with truth, justice and righteousness, and confessing our own responsibility to be people who love God and love our neighbour. As is true with my friend, we are learning to hope one little step at a time.

candle

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The Cohesion of People

November 15th, otherwise known as Fundraiser day, was a blur of activity. Every once in a while I told myself (or Joanna reminded me) to slow down and take a look around the room, fulling ingesting what was happening.

I saw children: some just walking, some toddlers, some school aged dancing with the kind of abandon I wish we retained as adults. I saw my friend James, an artist and core member of the Dale selling cards adorned with his art so that he could give us a “cut” of the profits. Another friend, Norma was selling jewellery for the same reason. I saw people bobbing for apples, playing cards, throwing sponges at a target with a brave volunteer’s face as the bull’s-eye and tossing ping-pong balls into jars. I saw people dressing up at the photo booth and getting their faces painted.  I saw a table of beautiful pies for auction, some made by friends, others made by Wanda’s Pie in the Sky- a little shop in Kensington Market. I saw people enjoying bowls of chill and pieces of cornbread, those who eat with us on Mondays in the Drop-In and those who don’t. I saw people square dancing. I saw people reading about where the donations we receive actually go. I saw The Lovelocks take the stage. I saw so many different people doing whatever it took to make sure the event went smoothly.

As is true with any event, we will need to determine what worked and what we might do differently in the future. The time for that is coming. In the meantime, I want to celebrate all that was good. I have not forgotten that just a couple of years ago The Dale (then PNC) almost closed. We have been through a lot and come a long way. What kept bringing tears to my eyes throughout the 15th was the variety of people present and how you couldn’t tell who was who: The Dale community, Board members, supporters, volunteers, neighbours, friends and family. It has been this kind of cohesion, this kind of coming together that has brought The Dale to the present day. I do not take this for granted. Now I want to slow down, take a look around and imagine what’s next.

 

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It Takes a Team

On Saturday The Dale is hosting a big event that we’ve dubbed our Fun Fair Fundraiser. A lot of planning has gone into this. Like, A LOT. Most of it done by a team of people, namely Ben and Gen (I just realized their names rhyme). They have brainstormed, made lists, produced written material, found donations, the list goes on. I’ve never experienced having a duo like them do so much for an event like this.

Hannah is a woman bringing her food prowess to the kitchen so that people can purchase something savoury or sweet. It’s a big job and she’s taken it on. This, after just completing a large event last weekend. Megarrah is producing banners for each game stall. The Lovelocks are coming, despite a busy day for them. John and Tom are doing the sound. The square dance caller is booked. Sean is willing to sell drinks. Melody and Michelle are making pie. Wanda’s Pie in the Sky, a shop in Kensington Market is rounding out the pie auction.

Our core community is rocking it too. Our regular kitchen team is showing up early Saturday to help Hannah. Terry, a former professional sign maker is busy at work for us. Tim designed the invitation. James wants to sell his art so that he can be a part of keeping this place going. I can’t tell you how many people have said, “I’ll do whatever you need me to”. Our Board of Directors will be face painting, taking pictures, setting up bales of hay and doing whatever else they can to help.

Joanna is doing such a variety of things for Saturday that I don’t know where to start. I have no idea what I’d do without her. I couldn’t do any of this without Dion and Cate, who are present, helpful and so encouraging about The Dale in general and about this event specifically. Cate is assisting me in making props for the photo booth and is sure that if we have enough moustaches on sticks everything will be well.

Each time I see that a friend has shared the invitation or hear that someone is sending a donation or discover that someone is able to come I am thankful. The Dale works because of what I’ve described above: it is a community of people, both at its core and more broadly that fully participates. It’s during a week like this one that I find myself overwhelmed with gratitude at that reality.

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Building Community that Calls to Account

I grew up listening to CBC Radio. It was on much of the time in our house. When we’d go to our family camp [cottage] we’d position the rabbit ears on the little radio in the kitchen in order to hear Peter Gzowski’s voice. Turning the radio on makes me feel nostalgic and somehow “safe” as a result. In my own home we regularly listen to The Vinyl Cafe with Stuart McLean on Saturday mornings. I admittedly love that Cate knows Tom Power and Rich Terfry or, “Stir-Fry” as she likes to call him. Though I don’t know Jian Ghomeshi beyond his voice, he like Gzowski, felt like one of my CBC friends, which is why I’ve been somewhat glued to the news this past week.

I’ve read a lot of the commentary that has accompanied Ghomeshi’s firing, the initial public support, the multiple allegations of abuse, the mounting evidence against him and the extreme fallout since. The only thing that I am glad about is that this has ignited a conversation about changing rape culture, while being so sad that it took this.

Because of the nature of my work at The Dale and the faith that informs how I do it, I find myself wondering ‘what next’? What next for Ghomeshi? What next for the women he harmed? What next for the culture that for too long has turned a blind eye to sexual offences? What does restorative justice look like? I journey alongside people in Parkdale who have been either or in some cases both, offender and victim. There is nothing simple about answering the ‘what next’ question in situations that are this painful and complex.

I’m not sure how to answer the questions that have been stirred in me. I do know this has served to solidify my desire to live in community where we can call one another to account. I need people to tell me when I am messing up and help pull me back on to the right track. Of course, this isn’t a fail-safe plan. I can choose to go my own way even with people telling me I should do otherwise. My hope though is that by being surrounded by people choosing to love me (and I them) that I might avoid having to hit the proverbial bottom. Or, if I do go to the depths, that I will have people there to pick me up.

I find myself weeping for the women who have been wounded deeply; for those who have spoken out and for those who haven’t. I wonder where Ghomeshi has retreated to. How is his family? I am still listening to conversations in coffee shops and grocery stores that go much like this: “Those women are gold diggers. What happens behind closed doors is none of my business”. I ask incredulously, “Really”?

Here’s the thing: we cannot live in a bubble. Our actions, whether we or Ghomeshi want to admit it or not, impact others. We need to learn how to be repentant when we hurt one another. Our culture makes it easy to believe that we are only responsible for ourselves, that we deserve to do whatever makes us happy. I would argue that our lives are much more entwined than that. We were created to be in relationship. As author Henri Nouwen once said, “The mental and spiritual health of a community depends largely on the way its members live their most personal lives as a service to their fellow human beings”.

May we work to truly take care of one another.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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CAR!

It was not without some fear and trepidation that I wrote my last blog. My need for another set of wheels was entirely dependent on others being able to help provide one. This was not the kind of problem that could be fixed alone. I was amazed at the understanding with which my words were received and moved by the number of people who wrote to ask more questions and offer suggestions.

One person read my plea and remembered a conversation they’d had with someone else earlier in the week. This someone was in the process of buying a new car and wanted to gift their old one to someone else. The only problem was, they hadn’t been able to find anyone to give it to. Whoa. You can probably tell where this is going.

On Saturday Dion, Cate and I went to look at the car. By mid to late November it will be given to us. A huge THANK YOU to the givers of this vehicle. Just writing this makes me weepy.

This whole experience has reminded me yet again of our interdependence on one another. The economy of our culture says that we need to get things via our own hand. The world is all about private ownership. The economy of God, or of Kingdom, is all about building access. Instead of simply being “owners” we are “stewards”.

The car will be steward-ed by us. It will be used to ensure that all the things I outlined before will get done at The Dale and at home. I also want the car to be available to others. Whenever possible, this will be a community car. I am so glad I finally took the risk and asked. I am overwhelmed with gratitude.

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Needing Another Set of Wheels

I need a car.

There, I said it.

My husband Dion lives with Multiple Sclerosis, a disease that is robbing him of his mobility. Last fall Dion learned how to drive with hand controls and has a license that requires he use them. Our car is fitted with them now, and so Dion needs to use it as his primary means of getting around. With his new role at work, he no longer needs to simply get to The Gateway. Instead, Dion needs to be going places at exactly the same times I do. I never thought I would potentially be a part of a two car family. In some ways I struggle with even having a single vehicle: I think about the impact on the environment; I consider that I live in a city with public transportation; I know that for most people a car will never be an option. These are all good reasons to eschew driving a car, except…

The challenge for me is that I found ways to make my life work in large part because I had the use of our car. Our vehicle is used to ensure that things happen at The Dale. The Dale might not have walls of our own, but we do have my trunk. I transport groceries for our drop-ins, at various times store art supplies and outreach items like socks and hats, and move sound equipment for our Open Stages. We rely on the car to help our community friends move. We go on hospital, jail and court visits. We take people to appointments. Sometimes it is our office. And that’s all in the course of just one week.

Having a car also has a profound impact on my effort to keep life at The Dale in balance with life at home. I am able to finish my time in Parkdale and get home in time for Cate (which is a tight squeeze). I can drive a carload of kids to rehearsals for the choir that Cate has been in since the age of six. Our family participates in a “Dinner Shuffle” each Wednesday that is always followed by me heading off to do street outreach during the remainder of the evening. My list could go on and on. Though Dion will be able to get around, it will not afford him the energy to take on the grocery shopping, etc. Fatigue is a difficult symptom of MS.

Sharing this makes me feel very vulnerable. I know that life will go on if we don’t get another car. I also know life will be decidedly different for The Dale and the Oxford house without one. Quite honestly, I’m scared about all of this. A Dale community member has decided to actively pray for a solution. I know that my mother is doing the same. I would like to invite you all to help me/us see what the possibilities might be in all of this. Do you know a person wishing to sell a vehicle for a decent price? Do you wish to help us?

I am all ears.

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Knocking Over the Pedestal

The Dale’s story is being shared by others with some frequency as of late. There have been a number of articles written, none of which we’ve pursued beyond being open to participating in the process. I have to admit that it is equal parts wonderful and terrifying. Wonderful because our philosophy of ministry and community is being discussed; terrifying because it might be possible that we be misrepresented (this hasn’t happened, I just know it could) or misunderstood. Further, it could appear as though The Dale is being put on some kind of pedestal, or worse, that I am being put up there with it.

I have been involved in this kind of work since before I finished my post-secondary education. I have seen and think it important to acknowledge that in this sector there lives the real danger of arrogance: the kind that arises out of living and working in an edgy environment, believing that we somehow “get” life more than some. This can get fed too when others applaud and say, “It takes a special kind of person to do this work- it must feel so good to be constantly giving of yourself”. Compliments are not a bad thing to receive, they can turn sour though when turned into an inflated ego. Plus, it’s not true: this is not about me just giving. It is more often about me receiving more than I ever give.

I desperately want the narrative of my life to be one that mirrors the life of Jesus, one where success has a decidedly different definition than the world’s. Jesus taught on hillsides, spent time with those considered undesirable by polite society and quietly healed illnesses and hearts. I don’t want my life to be about how much money I make or the amount of stuff I accumulate. I am repelled by the idea of celebrity. Sadly, though I want to be like Jesus there is a real internal battle for the opposite.

Which is why it will always be of the utmost importance that I remain close to the street, for here I am reminded that I am no different. My every day life is spent doing what many would consider mundane: I chat, I cook, I clean up spilled coffee. I also see and do things that some might not have the opportunity to do: I help someone dumpster-dive or accompany someone to court or hold the hand of someone detoxing. There is nothing glamorous about what I do. I also know that any number of my Dale friends would do the same for me.

One of the greatest gifts of all the publicity is that it reminds me of what’s important: being in a community where we can acknowledge our brokenness and decide to journey together toward deeper wholeness in Christ, humbly and with inevitable missteps along the way.

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Surrogate Family

Just a short time ago a member of The Dale received an eviction notice. I’m carrying around a copy of it at his request. He is being told to leave because it turns out his home is actually an illegal rooming house. He’s mostly mad and scared. I’m decidedly sad.

This kind of story is not unique.

We all want to see our friend housed, it’s just that the challenge of finding a place that is affordable, clean and devoid of bugs is astoundingly hard.

So, imagine my amazement when he decided to help me do some dishes at the drop-in this morning and earnestly said: “I know I need a place. I could probably find one far away, but I can’t go. Nothing can replace the surrogate family I’ve found here”.

His words went right through my heart. I felt my determination to find a good housing situation become even more fierce. I was also reminded that though we have no walls of our own, The Dale is indeed becoming a place of belonging and home for both my friend and for me.

On the days where I feel like I can’t keep going, I’m going to remind myself of this.

 

 

 

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Getting Angry

At a recent Sunday service one of my friends prayed, “I am SO angry about the violence in this world”.

I am too.

I am angry that I discovered this horrendously long list when I thought to see how many ongoing armed conflicts there are. In this global age, when the world is becoming smaller, I am mad at myself for not being more aware.

I am angry that there is footage available on the internet of men being beheaded.

I am angry that too much violence is overlooked or underreported because it is happening to people who aren’t considered newsworthy.

I am angry that it is so easy to become desensitized to violence and the grave consequences of it.

I am angry about the violence that we inflict on one another with words instead of weapons.

I’m not sure what to do with this anger, except to turn it around and consider ways to promote its opposite. I believe that we have all been called to love our neighbour. Loving our neighbour does not mean that we always agree, nor is it easy. In fact, sometimes it feels close to impossible. Loving is a choice that requires patience, communication, and yes, the willingness to turn the other cheek.

I was reminded of this kind of love when my friend, full of prayerful honest rage, hesitantly agreed to have me pass her the stole we use and close the service with a benediction:

“God, even though I’m angry, be with us. Bless us. Help us to love.”

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Baby Is Back

Just over a year ago I introduced you all to Katie in A New Baby. As quickly as Katie arrived into our lives she was taken away. Many of us gathered around the new family with deep hope that they could remain intact. However, foster care was deemed necessary. In a moment life changed for a baby, her parents and by extension, The Dale: Heartache and Hope for Baby.

Many of you offered very practical support during the first week of Katie’s life. You gave diapers, a stroller and car seat, clothing, books and money. You filled cupboards with food for tired parents. We made sure that all these things got to and then went with Katie. I was routinely moved by the outpouring of love for a child hardly any of you met.

This past week I received word that Children’s Aid has decided Katie can come home. Today we got an amazing gift: Katie (who is now a toddler) and her mom arrived at our Thrift Store drop-in. I think I would have fallen over had I not been already seated. There was a palpable sense of joy in the room.

It looks like we might still get to be a part of the village that helps raise this child. Join with me in prayer and hope for Katie and her parents.