Aboriginal Day

When we told Gideon yesterday morning that it is the longest day of the year, he said, "So, will it be 26 hours long?"

The highlight of our extra long day was celebrating Aboriginal Day by eating foods that were typical of the indigenous diet on the prairies.  We started with bannock over an open-pit fire, and attempted two methods of cooking in order to determine whether the stick or the little camp cooker worked best.  We got rained out and had to finish frying them on the stove.  The end result was so good, Levi asked if we could please have it again today.  I have always loved the dense and satisfying bannock, so we might not wait a full year until we eat it again.

After the rain showers cleared, we lit the fire again and prepared bison sausages for cooking (made from a bison which grazed in the pasture directly behind us).  We held the sausages over the flames, until we could smell the readiness of the lean, rustic meat.  

And we took berries which had been picked from the garden next to the house last fall and turned it into a mouth-watering relish which was the perfect condiment for the meat.  We imagined the satisfied bellies of the people who lived here at one time, enjoying an almost identical meal.

We're living close to Red Deer, which was the Native term for elk.  It makes sense that elk used to roam wild here, however just as with the bison, elk only live in this area if they're kept in fences.  As harsh as that may sound, it's the next best thing.  Elk and bison provide the most natural meat for people living here.  Compared to cattle which are not native to this area, elk and bison are better adapted to the elements and because they are usually pasture-fed (rather than products of feed-lots) it's just better meat all around.   

To learn about how native peoples used to dress (and sometimes still do), we wrapped the boys in soft, smokey-smelling elk hides.  The boys stomped their feed and ran with the hides flowing behind them, enjoying the loose folds and the cape-like effect.  

For dessert, we grazed on wild rose petals.  Sort of...  You'll see.  

(Insert here, Levi's immediate rejection of the hand-fed petal.)


Gideon... reconsidering.

Approaching Levi with a willingness to try it himself.

Following a brief instance of daring determination...

Gideon also rejected the rose-petal delicacy:

I gave it a try and liked it.  It tasted just like a rose smells and felt silky and cool on my tongue.  No wonder it was a rare treat for those who lived here first.  

We lingered outside, enjoying the long sun and Philip's delight in playing in the dirt with bare feet.

It was a good, sweet day.  But as we watched the news later last night and saw some of the marches progress on Parliament Hill announcing Sovereignty Summer, our hearts ached.  We hope that our sons will grow up to love the history and the culture of the Indigenous peoples and not to become cynical about the highly politicized relationship that now exists between the Indigenous and non-indigenous peoples.  For the last six years, we've attended Trout Lake Aboriginal Day in Vancouver and have learned so much about how we simply can't stereotype Indigenous peoples.  There are, just as with non-Indigenous peoples, so many personalities, so many gifts and of course, many reasons to grieve the consequences of human weakness.  But just as with any population, there are many reasons to love.  

The first step is to learn.  

National Aboriginal Day --  Article from the CBC yesterday  

Christian Reformed Aboriginal Ministries

Aboriginal History and Culture in BC

The next step is to notice.  

Our church is in such close proximity to many services which are designated for Native people.  And every Sunday morning, members of the LongHouse Christian Assembly come by to drop off the bagels which are too tough for their community members to enjoy.  There are so many opportunities to notice our neighbours and to make contacts.  

And if you've never eaten bison or bannock, try it!  Vancouver has a great destination:  Salmon n' Bannock.  What are you waiting for?  

Finally, before the Truth and Reconciliation Commission comes to Vancouver in September, make it a priority to go out of your way.  Learn, notice and love.  

Lord, have mercy.  Let us love our neighbours as ourselves.  And let us love deeply, from the heart, because love covers over a multitude of sins.  

unsubscribe, re-subscribe -- a beginner's guide to rest

If there is any obstacle to rest, it's being over-subscribed.  Being yes-people.  Yes to events, yes to newsletters, yes to fundraisers, yes to opportunities, yes to bargains.   It's the way to be connected, in-the-loop and in-the-know.  

It's enough just to keep up.

At some point, we actually have to become no-people in order to say a greater Yes.

But a great YES to what?  Less accountability?  Less visibility?  Less information and knowledge?

Before we left for our sabbatical in Alberta, we cancelled our home phone line, and spent time going through all of the email we receive.   Bit by bit, we weeded out newsletters and ads.  Don't even ask how all those things started piling into our inboxes.

Weeding out the unwanted email looks like this: open up the newsletter which you receive but would rather not read.  Scroll to the bottom and click "Unsubscribe."  Done.  No more daily deals, no more words of the day, no more daily interest columns or Pinterest alerts.  At least for now.  And no more of the newsletters of which I can't even recall the names anymore.

What a relief.   All that space in my inbox, all that time to spend on something else.

And saying no to events.  We were invited to a very good event not long ago.  It was something we believed in and were curious about, but knew that this time of rest is precious.  We don't want to squander our evenings.  So we said no.  What a strange freedom.  Having been trained by expectations to participate and to attend events out of a sense of duty, simply side-stepping an event or invitation feels like we're absconding.  

But it is in the interest of something greater.  Something that's eluded when attention is directed toward the things at the periphery -- at least, which should be at the periphery, if not in the trash.

Instead of trying to manage overflowing inboxes, we've been receiving and listening to Scripture.  Saying yes not to less accountability, but yes to the Word.

More time and more mental space permits long sessions of listening.  We hear the Word in a way we sometimes miss when we read it silently.  The word was meant to be read this way - aloud and in the company of others.  We subscribe to a new stream of words, but this time with no gimmicks or sales pitches.  This time its for a way of life, the way of wisdom.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer -  well before the days of iTunes Audio Bible - said it this way, in a perfectly relevant way for our time:

The Word of Scripture should never stop sounding in your ears and working in you all day long, just like the words of someone you love... Accept the Word of Scripture and ponder it in your heart, as Mary did.  That is all... Do not ask "How shall I pass this on?"  but "What does it say to me?"  Then ponder the Word long in your heart until it has gone right into you and taken possession of you.
                                                                                  Life Together

3 steps to making this transition for yourself:

1) Unsubscribe to whatever you don't want to don't need to read.
2) Purchase a version of an audio Bible OR intentionally choose another activity that is truly life-giving.
3) Do it!  And Keep it up.

See what happens and enjoy the rest that comes your way.
  

En Route (Awake my Soul)

We are back from a lovely trip through the mountains.  We drove a long loop, taking the TransCanada through Banff and then south to Cranbrook, swooping Northward again toward the Balfour Ferry, where we forded the Kootenay Lake.  We arrived at Jason and Tracy's breathless.  What a paradise!  

On the way back, we toured the Crowsnest Pass, wound our way through the windy territory of Southern Alberta and then up Northward again to the Parkland area of Central Alberta, on the East short of Gull Lake.  Such diverse landscapes!  All of it: gorgeous.   

  

The boys were delighted to see so much wildlife.... bears, big-horned sheep, dear, and marmots.  We took time to slow down and watched them as we could from the van, being quiet and careful not to disturb the animals.  How we talked about them for mile after mile, the way the black bear swayed and nibbled grass and the heavy, exaggerated curl of the bighorn sheep's horns.   We admired the way the small roadside meadows were blanketed with the bright purple fireweed, fully in bloom.  Stunning.   

  

And when we weren't talking, we sang along to Chris Tomlin's song 

"Awake my Soul."  None of us objected to repeating it several times...

Breathe on me, breath of God...

I come alive, I'm alive when you breathe on me....

Awake, awake, awake my soul!

God, resurrect these bones!

From death to life

For you alone awake my soul.    

We worshiped and rejoiced and when it came time for me to lead the women in retreat all the way in Grand Forks, 

my heart was filled with praise.  So good to be together in search of the Living God, ready and available for the Spirit's breath to revive and restore.  

I checked back to my notes and noticed from the beginning of our sabbatical this line, underlined:

I am so tired.

I was so tired and though I don't remember writing it, I remember the lure of horizontal surfaces (benches, counter-tops, hardwood floors, etc) - 

all beckoning me to lie down, rest and disappear into a brief world of sleep.  

Another gift of sabbatical is this:   

We have rested.  I've logged some 10-hour nights and occasional day-times naps in the sun.  

Is there anything sweeter and more rejuvenating than a little bit of shut-eye outside in the sun?  

 But now I've been spending less time thinking about how I'd love to just lie down 

on any old surface and sleep. 

 Now I dream about how great it would be to tie up my shoes and go for a run.  So I do.  

This morning I ran once around the block, which in the country side here is a perfect 4.25 mile run.  I kicked up my heels and turned up the tunes.  Hooray for running!  A mile and bit into the run, I watched a white-tail deer before it startled.  How peacefully it grazed on the lush grass in the ditch.  And when it saw me, what a bounding leap it made!  It dashed along the caragana hedges and waved its bright white tail.  I was close enough to see the deer's small black hooves lifting high above the top of the grass.  Such precise, pointed little feet!  

And as sudden as that flash of white, I remembered the line "Hind's feet in high places."  Though I've never heard anyone call a deer a "hind" somehow the line came back to me, 

as I recall being a little girl looking at the title of that novel on my parent's bookshelf.   

The deer's effortless gallop made me feel all at once clumsy and heavy-footed.  What a thought that the Psalmist has when he suggests that God makes his feet like the feet of a deer!  (Psalm 18:33) 

I glanced down for a second and see my large white Saucony's.  

Feet of a deer?  Hardly.  

But I let myself chuckle and picked up the pace a bit.  I come alive again.  

The Sovereign LORD is my strength;

he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to tread on the heights.

For the director of music.  On my stringed instruments.  (Habb 3:19) 

I reach and push play on my iPhone again.  For the director of music.  

Black bear: lumbering and graceful. 

One of many bighorn sheep.

Big little Philip - such a patient traveller.  

And a wonderful soak in the natural hot springs at Radium, 

which Gideon proudly read out to us as "Random Hot Springs."  

He's right: it is random to arrive at a hot water hole in the middle of nowhere.  

Random, but wonderful.