Oh my! 445pm and this is the first moment I’ve had all day to sit down and write Sunday Reflections. Suffice it to say that the storm was (is) a whopper!! First we had about 15cms of snow and then A LOT of freezing rain and then rain, by mid-afternoon today the temperature was well above freezing but by this time tomorrow it is supposed to be -19C. Thus it was imperative to move as much of the heavy ice encrusted snow as possible before it all freezes into hard and immoveable chunks.
Up at 630am I shovelled my own front walk and those of the two neighbouring houses I’m “minding”. Fortunately I was back in the house and eating breakfast when cousin Ron called from the UK. He still sounds quite awful but claimed that he and his wife are doing better and “on the mend”, which was very good news!
Next Wil and I braved ice-coated sidewalks and streets and took a thirty-minute walk in which we covered the same amount of territory we usually cover in half that time. I was secretly hoping that Nick might cancel Church because there was a highway advisory in effect, but we only have one couple who come in on the highway, and they arrived at church even before we did!
Paul was doing music today so there were extra willing hands to help carry in my soup pots and various baskets with everything from paper stars (our craft) to bags of cornmeal muffins for lunch.There was plenty to do, 3 flavours of soup to heat up, the buffet table to set and then laying out the felt board figures and craft materials.
Today’s “group” included myself, John, Ruby (age 12), George and, once again his 2-year-old sister Lydia as, not surprisingly; she was the only toddler present.
It was, shall we say, a diverse group, but John and Ruby both made good helpers, with Ruby even agreeing to read aloud Matthew2: 1-11 after which Lydia and George helped to arrange the story of the Magi on the felt board.
Then it was Origami Star making, and a time of prayer before re-joining everyone downstairs for the celebration of the Eucharist.
It is always moving for me to have the privilege of offering the chalice to my fellow Parishioners. There is more that happens as we share the bread and the wine, more than just the physical actions. When my eyes meet those of each person taking the cup, there is an electricity, a movement of the Holy Spirit which makes that moment of eye contact something more, in a sacred way and I never cease to come away from that time without having experienced those moments of “wonder”. I guess I really relate to this verse composed by Queen Elizabeth I when reflecting on the Eucharist.
But just as the prosaic and spiritual are interwoven throughout our days, as Communion concluded, I quickly jolted back from “Mary “ to “Martha” mode, hurrying into the kitchen to bring the pots of soup to the buffet, with George and Lydia, eagerly offering to help carry the baskets of muffins.After lunch and dishwashing we all piled back into the Brotherwood’s van and drove slowly home through flooded sections of road.
The rest of the day has, sadly, held a little less “wonder” as I laboured for three hours shovelling out the driveway, porch and deck at home, slogging through the ice again with Wil, to shovel a path at my friend’s house and to feed and have a little cuddle with her cat, who must be pretty lonely after nearly two weeks of that family’s absence.Once home again it is now time to prepare roasted root vegetable soup for my own dinner and try to regain, just a tiny wisp of Sabbath wonder.