Whatever He Says

It was a warm July day in 1989 and on the lawns of a  large, white clapboard farmhouse between Newmarket and Aurora; a Christian Horizons home for people with disabilities; a group of staff from Brampton, Richmond Hill and Stouffville had gathered. The tall trees that dotted the two acres on which the house stood, dappled  the circle of chairs on the grass with a reflection of the leaves dancing in the breeze overhead. We could hardly believe who stood before us as the speaker at our staff day apart--the Dutch born theologian, author and priest, Father Henri Nouwen . For the past three years, Henri had lived at L'Arche Daybreak, in nearby Richmond Hill, as an assistant to a young man named Adam, and through one of our staff, Henny, who also worked at Daybreak, he  agreed to speak to us. I was in awe at meeting the man whose books had impacted me so greatly. How could we prepare for such an honoured guest? But Henny said that the most appreciated thank you for his ...

Three hours driving carefully into the blackness of the night, the white flecks of snow driving mercilessly at our car, mercifully shod with snow tires only two days before. My eyes strained to follow the path laid out by those ahead of me, my arms steadily gripping the wheel, my heart quietly speaking, "In quietness and confidence shall be your strength." Forty seven years before those words had been pasted by loving hands on a white card on a black page by my Granny Kay, her gift to me for my confirmation, my public profession of faith within my denomination. All the way home, as I stared at white on black, my mind and heart pondered, as many times before, the meaning of those words written so long ago, black on white on black. The rounded characters of her English style handwriting on that white card spoke to me, as always, of the comfort, warmth and kindness of her character. Dear Granny Kay, specially beloved second wife to my widowed grandfather, precious and dear, Bish...