Skip to main content

Head Walker to Heart Warrior Part 2

One recent Saturday, I drove to St. Mary's to celebrate the Heritage Day festivities with my daughter. By then I was well into another journey, the search for a peaceful heart.

I had started the two and a half hour drive, early, choosing a route that avoided highways and had just driven through Beeton when the crossing lights up ahead signalled that a train was coming. I slowed to a stop and watched the hypnotic stream of boxcars, a seemingly endless graffiti gallery, gently swaying by on their way. A random surprise art exhibit.

As I drove through the village of Hockley, listening to CBC Radio, the bluesy voice of Canadian jazz artist, Laila Biali kept me company and set me bopping in my seat with her song, Queen of Hearts.  

Along one of the back roads after leaving the town of Orangeville, a big white tent stood in a field with a sign at the gate saying, "Gospel Meeting. All Welcome." The word "gospel," comes from an old English word with two parts: God (good) spell (news). Good News Meeting--all welcome! It seemed from another time, that tent in the field, but the world needs more Good News Meetings.

I stopped for gas in the little town of Arthur and noticed the skinny white-haired man at the next gas pump. He wore a blue baseball cap, and baggy, well-worn beige corduroys held up securely by royal blue braces--just part of the Saturday morning non-crowd.

By now it was the top of the hour and time for the news, and a celebration of peace was announced between at least two countries on earth--Eritrea and Ethiopia--which have been in a state of war that divided families for decades. I rejoiced and celebrated their peace--good news.

I entered Perth County, passing unadorned meeting houses, and signs for slow-moving vehicles, and summer sausage for sale. Mennonite couples dressed in brown and black, the women in bonnets and the men in straw brimmed hats, clip-clopped along in horse-drawn buggies. And, as always, I paid attention to the sign for a fellow pie-maker's bakery, Anna Mae's, in Millbank.

Black and white Holstein cows lazed beneath shady trees, their hay feeder near at hand, as if for a Saturday picnic--but in no rush to eat as they blinked benignly at the passing traffic. A sign at the end of a farm driveway advertised, "Cut flowers for sale," and I thought of how beauty will ooze out--there's no stopping it, no matter how plain we might try to live out of a desire to be "unworldly." God made
colour and pizazz--it's everywhere, we might as well give in and enjoy--embrace--and engage in it. 

Such was the start of the beautiful day, spent with my equally beautiful daughter, with enough personal pizazz for a whole bouquet of flowers with her vibrancy. 

 That day ended with a visit, into neighbouring Norfolk County, and a rural route of the village of Scotland, which I wrote about in an earlier post, here.

The friend whose mother, Lois, I visited, loved the post and asked that I print it off and mail a copy to Lois. 

In the next part, I'll tell you what happened when I went to the post office to mail it as that little adventure is where the title of the blog post came be continued.


Diwakar said…
Hello Brother in Christ. I am a Pastor from Mumbai, India. I am glad to stop by your blog post and took time to go through it. This gave me an opportunity to get connected with you. I do browse the profiles and the blog posts of Christians to get connected and also to get new insights as well as enrich and get strengthened in my faith through blog posts on different topics. I am blessed and feel privileged and honoured to get connected with you as well as know you and your interest. I love getting connected with the people of God around the globe to be encouraged, strengthened and praying for one another. I have been in the Pastoral ministry for last 39 yrs in this great city of Mumbai a city with agreat contrast where richest of rich and the poorest of poor live. We reach out to the poorest of poor with the love of Christ to bring healing to the brokenhearted. We also encourage young and the adults from the west to come to Mumbai to work with us during their vacation time. We would love to have you and your family or young adult children come to Mumbai to work with us during your/ their vacation time. I am sure it will be a life changing experience. Looking forward to hear from you very soon. God's richest blessings on you, your family and friends. My email id is: dhwankhede(at)gmail(dot)com and my name is Diwakar Wankhede.
Diwakar said…
Hello Blinda. I have wrongly identified you as brother. When I went to your google profile I then realised that the writer of the blog post is not he but she. Please forgive me for that. Pastor Diwakar.

Popular posts from this blog

The Most I've Ever Paid for Something I Didn't Want

We were young, that’s my excuse. I was 23 and Paul 26, but already we had done a lot of living in our time together--more than most youngsters of today would have done by then.
We had been married for almost four years, had immigrated to a new country, over 6,000 km away from home and were parents to a 3 and 1-year-old. We owned our own house--or at least two mortgages on the house and had settled down, or so I thought. Paul and I were barely scraping by, but we were making it on one salary, while I stayed home to care for our children.
It is at such times; I have come to understand, now that I am much older, that we should prepare for an adventure, for one is surely coming. 
Paul had a long drive to work, down a highway known for danger in the winter. He felt that we should explore moving closer to his place of work. I was happy in our home--had overcome two years of homesickness and loved our little village in the country. I was not in favour of the proposed move, but I did believe th…

Just Joy!

Our family has a standing date for Sunday dinner on the first Sunday of every month. Not that we don't see each other at any other time, but we all know that particular Sunday is pretty much for sure--and I look forward to it so much--the front door bursting open and our house being filled once more with the voices and vibrancy of six grandchildren and their parents. 

This week Spero, Brenda's new Australian Shepherd puppy came too, and met his extended family, leaving Molson at home to have a rest! He was duly adored by all of us.

He came with a dazzling array of toys and is proving a fast learner, already sitting on command and responding to Tori's training. I was so impressed at her technique of quickly rewarding a turnaround from any slight naughtiness with praise for "good sitting," or "good" any other desirable behaviour! 

Tippy had her hair cut stunningly and bravely short the day before; making a statement about who she is as a unique individual, o…

Searching for Christmas

I wrote this seven years ago and Molson has aged since that long ago walk on a sweltering August day. This will be his last Christmas unless there is some special dispensation for the most faithful of dogs. It was so good to read this, and remember "then." And the message of the story still rings true.

August was hot and steamy. Sweat trickled and tickled down spines and hair clung droopily to heads. I explained to some English guests with a craving for bracing “fresh air,” that flinging open the windows would not help at all. After a few days here they believed me.

I got into the habit of taking late evening walks with Molson, our golden retriever. Normally he bolts from the house like an arrow from a bow, but even he moved slowly on those sweltering August evenings, with the fields surrounding our village buzzing and humming with the rhythmic pulse of insect life, and the intoxicating scent of summer blooms hanging in the still air.

With my senses drenched in summer, I had Ch…