Posts Tagged ‘Family’


Growing up my Nan always joked that she had blue blood (yes I realize blood is blue before oxygenated in air), but it was an allusion to her being royalty. She was a war bride, and we did engage in culture from England. Part of that was having the monarchy as part of who we were. We would see different events on television, watch different messages. Understood the flags, and different songs. Even though I was not a regular church attender, got that the Queen was head of the Church of England (joking with my Catholic Friends, Anglican guilt was like theres but came with a British accent).

Regular readers, will know that my family has had a tradition to listen to the Queen’s Message on Christmas Day. Before streaming, it would be at noon Calgary time on CBC or another local channel, and we would stop what was happening and watch the television. In the past 10 or so years, we have been able to watch it live on line, and then on the Royals’ channel but it has still been a part of the day’s journey.

I remember family discussions of who would be the next in line, due to tradition and laws around divorce.

My youngest, would have a ball with her Great Granny (my Nan); when we would go to church or visit, as before tea time, she would take time together to get “ready” as the Royals.

Since 2012/13 my kids lost two of their matriachs, with my Nan (Great Granny) and Mum (Nanna)’s passings, the message was a way to continue to connect.

Now we are on the day, when the message goes silent, it is a weird void. Yes I realize it would not go on forever, but let’s be honest, at 96 years old and still doing duties 48 hours ago, how many ever thought it wouldn’t?

I chuckle though, as I think of the metaphor my family uses for the next life. Our kids started losing people far to young, and it became the story of the Grand Tea Party with Jesus. And then I smile, at my Nan’s analogy of being a blue blood, and think that Grand Tea Party just got a bit more festive, and after all this time she would finally have her tea party with the Queen.


A blessing of love at Countess for the youngest,

on the day you would not awake

and the 23 day journey to come…

The fear since you stated “No more owies”

cascading through as I lifted you to the van

Was this the time?

The unwanted walk for those left behind?

Were you sipping tea at the Grand Tea Party with those that had gone before?

Unanswered questions

Prayers that fell on a deities deaf ears

As Trauma hits in the hospital

the offense of the soul is more than simply my son in distress and wondering if he will survive?

Is it Metis or Disabled on your file?

That causes the berating of questions?

Are you inbred?

Did he get into your drugs?

No, We’re a sober house.

Oh so he got into your Fentanyl.

No, ya dumb ass what do you not understand about S-O-B-E-R

Questions of the past

that no longer matter

yet they fumble about a file in the room with you

I know the revisti of pain upon you

even if they think you are not able to hear or understand

as rescue drug

after rescue drug is administered

Is it simply epilepsy?

Is it more?

Those moments you spoke of being tired of loss

Have you simply said you will not open your eyes?

In PiCU looking like a Borg…

they try to say it is stabilized base line

For they only know the you here and in the file,

not the you the world loves and loves the world,

Your Mumma shows video

of your loving curious self to prove them wrong

They see you as a person

The darkness yet to come,

not fully yet foreshadowed as they would lose the plot

of you as the super hero of this tale

Three research studies in and yet you will not wake up

BPAP comes off

You struggle to breathe on your own

an oxygen line

Sepsis

and mystery

as we move (4 days in) to a unit

bacterial pnuemonia

You still won’t awaken

Another round of push back to unit staff

about going home

As you are at baseline

NG Tube as you show some alertness

Two Student doctors

who do not see the person

push

crisis

as the feed tube comes out

nourishment

how you got your medications

refusal to do what needs to re-insert

the clock is ticking

4 attempts

14 hours

no go

they finally hear

when asked, if they do not see you as a person

because you are disabled or a metis

They saw it as hostile

I saw my boi in pain

caused by those who were to heal

4 more attempts with x-ray

clock ticking

22 hours

still nothing

new doctor

as I sit vigil

to try to ensure you do not slip away due to SUDEP

asks what can be done

A useless question

A happenstance

of a fill in the next day

Tries to say the staff sees you as a person

Shocked by the word bullocks state only actions matter now

And at hour 40 you got into radiology, live imaging, tube back in…

meds…nourishment

another lie revealed,

physio never contacted…

an order finally put in

and within hours in to see you.

The regular team tries to brush off as a minor hiccup,

only a few hours,

Another time of push back,

revealed a star pupil was the cause

could this be why the cover up?

Research study #4

on racism int he system

too many scared to speak out, my gut says simply, for fear of further lack of care

So many fun nurses and doctors

engage

laugh,

learn who you are

as you are heard, we are heard

they slow down

your system in healing, catches up

and your own super powers kick in

from bed to sitting to a walker

to walking from gym to room

to me seeing the twinkle on day 2 of this

you giggle, “gotta say hi”

and your greeters soul

walks the unit greeting staff and neighbours

No tubes

from purees to soft foods to beloved foods

Not fully at baseline

but more you than you have been for awhile

is it time to go home?

As dinner time approaches

Day 23

we enter rush hour…

home…

*The vast majority of staff we encountered on this journey saw my son as a person, and were negaged in his healing, the unfortunate piece is the few that were not, caused the largest traumas and set backs because the rest of the team would not speak up or out against them.


It can be hard not to feel that way, when you look back on a life of attempting to create belonging. Doomscroll where we are at this societal crossroads today closer to Imperial Star Wars than Star Trek Federation and wonder if, you are not simply irrelevant? These thoughts have been cascading for a while in my mind, it can be hard not to as I battle the great fear of my life as Dad, outliving my child (in the case of both my kiddoes) or my son outliving me (and leaving someone not seen as person, in the care of the system that holds this to be true).

These ideas came stronger, after seeing a simple tweet this morning, something akin to Gen X’ers aren’t okay, as all that we fought against, and created a better forward, has been ripped away with worse returning. It is true, we at a whiney minority vocally level are letting the bullies shape the world. That which we were always taught to stand up to, push back into the beneath the rocks where they existed and were dying under, now allowed back out into the sun, and like the worst garden choking weeds are thriving in the rain pain of the world.

How can a world of belonging be created? Is it still possible?

I have to say yes, not just because I am an eternal optimist, but I was also raised with a firm belief that evil does not win in the end.

Yes I am exhausted. Yes I am tired in a world, where we have to tirelessly advocate for my children to be seen as people, where we continue to exist in the tension of life expectancy for my son. Where systems fail to support staff, and as such, as we explain reality, well damn it, at this moment and time corporation or government I do not feel like being your staff’s counsellor or pastor as they process the reality of my son’s lifespan.

But I digress, for I also worry, looking back at a time in my life of about 2 year where I wrote op-ed pieces for a local paper. Where I spoke out in support for Angels in America, LGBTQ Rights, and marriage equality (that last one almost cost me my life) in the mid-1990’s. Fast forward to 2022, and once again, I worry of the violence or death that may be visited upon my youngest and their friends.

We live in a world where The Orville: New Horizons Seasons 3 episode 5 “Tale of Two Topa’s” should be seen as timely or necessary, but especially for extremists and church, take view, and know, in the world of Klydon and Bortus as parents, be a Bortus. The closing image one of the most powerful of belonging on screen:

See Topa is a Mochlan child, who wants to join the union when he is old enough, yet he knows something is not right. If you have viewed previous season episodes around Bortus and Klydon’s child you know. See Mochlan’s are all male. Or are they? Topa was born female, and underwent a gender reassignment surgery to bring him in line with other Mochlan’s. Even after another female Mochlan would testify it was unnecessary. It never sat fully with Bortus, but for Klydon a true believer (and himself, a surgically altered female shortly after birth) a necessity.

A Tale of Two Topa’s is a story of truth, reconciliation, and being who you were created to be. It also shows how fear and hatred can shatter connection, as Klydon walks away from his child “I wish you were never born”…but the Orville Family, as seen in the image, calls Topa to the bridge, for her to belong.

If you fear authenticity in the image of God, why?

It is a powerful episode, and raises some hope that stories of power can still be told, though like, Deep Space Nine episodes seeming current and timely in the social justice issues they confront, it does become exhausitng. Though as watching, there was another aha moment that clicked for me.

So often when we have pilgrimaged/journeyed to other spiritual centres, some would chastise us, that we should not be leaving when they are not accepting due to this or that of one of our family members. We should stay and fight, for how will change happen? Simple, our spiritual centres are a space for connection, belonging, and renewal. I have no issue educating or equipping, but I am not there to fight, there is sapce for us and we will be there and present. If we are not wanted, that is fine, at some point the segregation, isolation, fear and hate, will runs its course within certain spiritual centres, and they will close (and yes we have outlived a few).

The other show that hit hard this week, was the latest Star Trek Strange New Worlds, and it was around Hemmer, the Aener engineer:

The Magic of Science “Abrakadabra”

Reading an interview with Canadian Actor, Bruce Horak, who plays Hemmer, about the character’s sacrifice in episode 9 (a well plotted horror inspired episode with the Gorn). Where infested his only choice was to end his life, that his character was created for a specific purpose. Hemmer, noted his purpose in the series when talking with Cadet Uhura “I fix broken things”. A foreshadowing statement, for a character created as a mentor for Cadet Uhura on their journey to open up to connection and belonging.

Which, in your own vocational and life formation, opens up two questions for you:

  1. What is your life purpose?
  2. Who are the mentors that helpded you in discovering and entering this purpose?

This has been a rough week or two journey for me. Where the word irrelevant has preyed upon my heart. Making me wonder if it was worthwhile, if I could still do something valid. Especially as it appears that our world is darker than it should be as anger and hate push for control and power.

“Your employers actions will show how they value you, more than their words”

Yet,

in these moments, a question from so long ago, on a night shift in a Calgary shelter, as I spoke with a guest rings in my soul:

“How do I ger hope?”

Hope.

A simple four letter word.

Can we regain it? Where do you feel it?

Can we emerge into the light? And see one’s simple intrinsic value in the beautiful diverse mosaic that we are created in the image of? Are we, even more powerfully, able to look in the mirror, and see that in ourselves?

“I wonder if Alberta Separatists wishing your Happy Canada Day, hear the hypocrisy?”

Unwanted Walk 2

Posted: April 3, 2022 by Ty in Spirituality
Tags: , , , ,

Speak to freely

of wanting to be with your loved ones and buddies at the grand tea party on the other side

The struggle within that you try to share outwards

falls on many as non-verbal

for those who know and love

hear what you share and say

no more invasive pain for a little bit of change

no more owies

Your light dims, like under a bushel,

want to laugh and love

our little miracle

that machines said all those years ago

game over,

and you laughed into the void

and the Holy smiled

and the machines said life goes on

the experts stumped

what is usual

becomes the living Holy Mystery

the joy bringer

the love spreader

the one that shatters the concrete barriers

as some shared

in their cards of stories of you

As the mid-journey begins

how much time?

For that time so long ago, when Great Granny had such joy to have her great-grandbabies in church, she spent time so you could sing proud of the love you brought, and Jesus had for you.

Echoes in my soul,

as you ask

for Daddy to be the pastor

for your tea party time

and I shatter

can I be with you

at this time

as those that are to respond

see nothing wrong

when you are emotionally blue

mentally blue

physically blue

go home,

it’s safer

for a world under pandemic

you hear resoundingly from around you

are not a valid life

my joy

my light

my son,

do not go,

linger longer

laugh more

cheer more

Hockey!

play more,

For a day from 43

can I not cry into the unknown

Holistically-physically-neurologically which stroy is true?

A teenager? A middler? A senior?

How much time?

For the fun moments

Like your Ozzy sing-alongs

Mouth trumpets

high fives

hugs

As you continue to ponder joining the Great Tea Party—–

Stay a while longer

To continue to change the world

For how does a Daddy answer that which you ask?

I love you…stay while and continue the party here…

Let your light shine…


Many moons ago, with a Rosary in my weary end of night shift hand in the sanctuary of a Roman Catholic church awaiting the weekday Mass, the still small voice would whisper to me “build my church”, it was an echo sentiment from years before, in a United Church, where I cam back to church as adult with my Nan, after presiding over the Sunday Service, and greeting faith family afterwards, the still small voice would simply say, “you are called”… To scant months before in my first service, where after singing in pre-sing my Granddad’s favourite hymn, the voice, his voice, would simply say “it’ll be alright”, Each of these instances are a piece of book one of three for my life. The book of laying the foudnations and preparing. Experiencing what it means to build the church. That is simply, to create the courageous safe space of connection, purpose and belonging for the beautiful mosaic that is our neighbourhood (the Imageo Dei)

So many bumps along the road. Stories. Pieces of knowledge, ancient wisdom applied to the modern world, and modern wisdom working on the souls of many. Truly striving and stumbling to live out what home is, and having the true open door that I have been told has blessed many. But at my core, I am a simple story teller. That is the core of my parallel multi-career paths, and the core of the calling as book two opens…for what is the core of blessed community but the story of love and hope at its centre?

It is stories that have shaped my life, and still do. Many look at me weirdly in the academic, political and spiritual circles I exist in for the resonance I have to so many of our modern legends and mythologies. Not only the resonance, but how effectively they can be used as points of connection, intersection and discussion… so many ways to meet and understand neighbour. Whether it is the modern super hero stories (I am sure many know of the reflections shared around Spider-Man, X-Men, Batman, Superman, Flash, the list goes on and on) our modern pantheon of gods and demi-gods as found in anceint folklore and mythologies (which I also love). Or the more recent addition of Doctor Who? The Doctor an amazing story of constant curiousity, inspired problem solving, fun and, yes, new life (ah regeneration, since I went through my own health issues, and now into c-tine, it does so feel like a moment of regeneration?). To the inquisitive nature of Sherlock Holmes, the mysteries solved, and the importance of the right partners.

The Arthurian Legends, stories I so wanted to read as a child, and a system said I could not comprehend, and a Dad that said yes he can…and well, the copy of that hardcover from Smithbooks still resides on my bookshelf, never tell a child they can’t when an interest is shown. The wonder, magic and splendour of Camelot. The idea of quest, blessing, calling, and the connection/belonging of the Round Table. To the first movie I ever saw in theatres, Walt Disney’s Robin Hood, and the core truth that all have value, and every role in society is needed for us to be healthy, how easily power can corrupt (and I have seen it happen to far too many good people) for when power becomes the goal like with Prince John– well, the fact it is actually people involved is forgotten for the pursuit of gold (or is it oil?). When a season of life ended, I hope my team at that time understand the blessing of sharing that story book with each of them.

But a core story that has stayed with me throughout my life. From when there was the one night of the week as repeats aired on CBC, Star Trek. A true reflection for me, of what Brother Jesus taught our world was meant to be. Our universe, where all have equity, justice, equality, hope, can pursue who they are meant to be and we affirm the ideal you they are currently and are becoming. Where we aid others. Each of its iterations has brought a new era of story and contemplations into my life. From the Next Generation to Deep Space Nine to Voyager to Enterprise to (Kelvin) Star Trek movies to Discovery to Lower Decks to Picard…each piece introducing new characters, new allegories to our reality now and where we can be, what we can aspire to.

The re-connection to the stories, happened sharply over the last several years as I started to build myself back. As we unearthed, and healed the darkness, smudge and trauma that almost, yes, took my life, though it took me off of one path and opened up an epilogue/prologue upon a new path. A new story. My loving wife and kiddos that have journeyed through much, and we know eyes wide open what has been in all its diverse sorrows to joys, to what we know can be in a hope seen and soon to be lived.

See, for me, as I reflect back on the journey, the long road of getting here. Some may look at the hiccups, the setbacks, the loss, and say, why bother? Or didn’t so and so ruin your life…No they did not. I still remember the day in the early part of my PNES where a congregational cycle of prayer had my son make that statement as I had stepped away a few times from church based ministry to protect him from their heresy & ableism, as with other members of my family at other moments. For me it is about living love, and it is truly about discerning if there is authentic misunderstanding, or simply a desire for a quick apology so one’s own hates are not revealed on the altar for all to see.

But I digress, see there is an understanding that it is not a pollyanic view, especially in our polarized world where many akin the word Christian or Pastor to some device of hatred and exclusion. Or like in Star Trek V when they finally gound “god” and it was revealed to be nothing more than a monster in godcloaking:

Yet, here we are, a long road, some wear and tear, great learnings, lovings, and discoveries.

As was revealed earlier in the movie with the discussion of pain, and the need for the pain to emerge into who we truly are. So it is with each aspect of our life, all the ups and downs, sorrows and joys, losses and wins…they have shaped us…to be with others. To hear the authentic quite voice once more on this journey, one that others have heard.

“it is time to answer hope’s call”

Taking a risk, at this stage of the emegent chapter one of book two, prepared and now stepping in to the uknown. Accepted back to seminary as a student to complete my Master of Divinity. Awaiting the links to open up to apply for funding. To grow my skills, for my writing, community building, and to step back into ministry within the church. And maybe, perhaps, once settled to finish the journey that started with my Psy.D. to finally get my Doctor of Ministry.

To once more, be a pastor.

To aid others in being authentic communities of hope.

To discover honestly, what the quiet voice of the Holy Spirit is whispering to each of us to live out and transform our world for the better.

And yeah, it is one of the scariest steps in my life I have taken.

But also fills me with simply being

content.


We as a world are changing gears and being stuck in the cycles of grief most congruent with anger and denial. I believe, and have observed, as it is the only thing that makes sense for the rise of hatred, and entrenchment in our world that for my side to be right it must be wholly good, and the other side needs to be completely evil, and the majority that usually exists in the pragmatic middle in most belief/ideological spectrums need to be viewed as weak, traitorous or complicit. Those are some political thoughts as we are hopefully at the end of the Polar Vortex here in Alberta, with normal winter returning. Another sign, that the environment is trying to keep us moving slower to allow for space for more healing, I mean, the pandemic hasn’t slown us. In fact it has illustrated the rise of faux labels we apply for prestige or perhaps, attempting to cry persecution for what is simply accountability and expectations of good citizenship. The current thought world of dualism, has created this weird space, where we so desperately want to assert our independent rights, but do not want to take on the interdependent communal responsibilities that come with those.

When I would speak on the history of povery and homelessness in my province, it was a key challenging question I would lay out to the first year students:

How did you get here today?

Many would postulate good grades, and hard work. I would stop them short and challenge them, did you appear fully grown and educated? Was there no adults who provided guidance and the necessities of life for you? Did you build your own house? Dig your own sewers? Treat your own drinking water? Grow your own food? Write and publish your own textbooks? Train your instructors? Build the school?

In the literal sense, one of the few times I like using the literal, did you pour the road? Make the bus/car? Drive the bus?

You didn’t?

But you had just told me that you got here through your own hard work, nothing more?

It is a simple truth our world has lost. An understanding of community, at times such as now, a leaving behind of the before times that perpetuated this fallacy, it should be a moment of renewal. Yet… fear that drives anger and denial… stops us…and creates more chasms between, silos, and perpetuates things such as the QAnon CULT (yes, cult, not in the anthropological senses of any religion, but rather the 20th century mainstream understanding ala NXVIM, Branch Davidians, Raelians, Moonies, Jonestown) all the pieces that perpetuated those tragedies brought to life online, and to bear on Jan. 6 with their faux Messiah, Donald Trump, still flexing his rage muscles against accountability at his impeachment trial (but shouldn’t this also be a criminal matter? The world is watching).

But it touches on what has been noted in Alberta during the pandemic, yes some decisions can be and are driven by the science (though lacking the transparency of knowing the CMOH recommendations fully to the UCP governing caucus this is an unknown). What is apparent is there are pockets within our province, that keeps talking personal responsibility and education in regards to restrictions, 333 days in it is time for accountability. Whether the small pocket of church or business or Member of the Legislative Assembly (alohagate, Anti-Lockdown Caucus to name but a few), need to be held to account. Business and non-profit licenses pulled, the full organizational ticket levied, coupled with those in attendance receiving full charges and tickets for breaking health orders. In regards to the MLA’s that do not comprehend crisis leadership, communal support, and health orders, they need to be expelled from Caucus. FULL STOP.

Yet, we live in a bizzarro world, like an elementary school playground that plays appeasement for the bully, instead of accountability.

For some, they will point to trauma awareness or being trauma informed. Both these lenses are highly important for creating the courageous safe spaces for healthy change and healing of a world on pause. Wondering and readying for re-imergence and knowing what has been shown as smoke and mirrors of our society before. What these lenses do not stop is accountability. They do not let one now have repercussions for actions. They aid us in understanding the actions of the person, and how to support them in the accountability for what they have done. The appropriate applications of these lenses in our public schools would have continued the powerful work of WE Days and Challenge Days in Anti-bullying, creating healthier and safer communities, instead of tying the hands of those responsible for shaping the future of our youngest citizens and leaving the bullied with the bad maxim “snitches get stitches” as they know what they share there will be no aid. A true shift needs to happen, and not just policies and false platitudes, actual resourcing and capacities needed.

Just as we need in our public health system in the prevention to treatment to cure of all that falls under health umbrella for holistic beings (emotional, physical,spiritual and mental)–or as some may see it, a Medicine Wheel, as our Indigenous siblings would guide us away from a quick triage model to an interdependent living and healing model.

Which bounces back to the yo-yo effect of open schools during a pandemic, without proper resourcing. This is not only speaking to PPE, or staffing to lower class numbers to allow for breaks, and proper distancing. It is the rolling effect of quarantine of classes after exposure (reactive measures), the lie of resilience being put forward on our children. Yes, they can be, but true resilience, well watch the brains….

See? Understand? We are creating the space for perpetuation of a complex trauma due to our desire for Twitter byte driven policy and practice decisions as adults. Instead of actual robust discussions, and reality of what is needed to ensure health and true resilience within our youth, and the adults that support and facilitate their learning. The key reason I hold, is this drive of grieving where we are lost in this tantrum like a toddler, of “my rights” instead of “our community responsbilities to one another”…

The fatigue is showing, and so is the strain, and the ripple effects. Most notably with my boy, I do not blame his school, he was on recovery day from some of his neurological conditions with barometric pressure changes and missed school. On that day he missed, his very secure cohort for medically complex kiddos was exposed. His support crew in the cohort, and the larger school are exhausted (we know and feel this). We were not called as he was not there that day. In the actual protocols this was appropriate. In a system with proper capacity (seeing the actual human supports necessary for thriving, not the false argument on human services as a debit on the lie of debit-credit household budget banksheet budgetting for governance that our Conservative populist governments try to push), there would have been enough fresh eyes to make the call to those that were not there. For those that were not there, still had a choice, to understand it was safe for their child to come, but that they would have 1 aide, and be by themselves in the classroom connected to the others via video conference. The call was not made, my son went to school, he came home, and the first thing stated to me was “they all died” and then later “I don’t want any more dead buddies”. See, in my son’s lived experience, when his chums go missing for a few days from school, he has learned at his young age, and about 16-18 times, they are now at the Tea Party in Paradise (our analogy for death, and the afterlife, our tradition calls Heaven, we created when our kiddos experienced the loss of their Granny at 5 & 6 years old).

See where proper interdependence creates robust health? Creates space for calmness? For healing? Space, where trauma is minimized, and healthy choices can be made. In the case of my son, it could have been proactive discussions on what school was to be like, or to keep him home and function with the rest of his class online. Instead we are now in a fear and grieving cycle that disrupted his learning and kept him home for the 2 days before the Teachers Convention break, and we have made the choice he will return to class when the class does.

There is no malice. We as a community are in uncharted territory, and mistakes happen. The difference between a mistake and harm, is the intent.

Which leads me to share a simple reflection from reading this week of James L. Gorman’s (2017) Among the Early Evangelicals: The Trans-Atlantic Origins of the Stone-Campbell Movement, for those unfamiliar with this version of Christianities it is collectively known as the Restoration Movement (Churches of Christ, Christian Church, Disciples of Christ, and my undergraduate alma mater, Alberta Bible College). The book explores the formation of the founders, and their, what is classed historically as primitive, but read through a 21st century eye…ecunemical. The movements within missionary societies, key traditions/denominations (what corporations would call brands) such as congregationalists, Anglicans, Presbyterians, Baptists, etc. coming together on core values to accomplish, in this case evangelizing and building the Kingdom. It also touches on the challenges that began to arise, as the focus narrowed, and it became more about, what kept others out (perceived heresies) rather than what bonded.

See the source image

Made me ponder, as we move through c-tine, and I re-affirm a calling to ministry (and some equipping to come, your prayers are appreciated). Through things such as the Religious Right, Alt-Right, QAnon, other conspiracy theories,Domnionist, anti-masks, anti-vax, anti-lockdown, sadly- white supremacist and Neo-Nazi movements, MAGA that have all become aligned and affiliated with evangelicalism and Christendom (the term for Christianities tied to political power, Empire since Constantine). That is even before we touch on the horrors of Jehovah Witness, Mormon, Roman Catholic and Quiverfull child abuse scandals, Fundamentalist Mormon trafficking across borders of minors, Residential Schools, Truth and Reconciliation for the heresy of the Doctrine of Discovery and Dominionism., and Churchtoo (ala Willow Creek, RZIM, Southern Baptist Convention, and the list goes on). Obviously some labels and brands are broken beyond recovery.

To paraphrase a teaching of St. Paul, if a name on a building or a label on a baptism certificate causes one to stumble (or a chasm be opened)– perhaps, it is time to let it go (and can you tell Frozen was played a lot in the house). As we move through c-tine, worshipping and connecting at a distance and online what is to be on the other end? Is it things such as Conservative or Orthodox? House? Institutional? Liturgical? High? Low? Primitive? Evangelica? Pentecostal? Baptist? Anna-Baptist? Emergent? Progressive? Creation Spirituality? Anglican? United? Victory? Red Letter? Salvation Army? Monastic? Gnostic? Mystic? Methodist? Alliance? Missionary? Holiness? Lutheran? Restoration? Missing any? (Probably quite a few).

But what if, we take a lesson from those who came to be in Jesus company back in the writings of the Gospels, or as reflected in Gorman’s work, or really the stories of saints and others. It is rarely an independent faith of one modality or formation. Rather it is interdependent community (family, chosen, sometimes biological) to grow in and with.Which brings me back around:

The challenge in church, is the same grieving as with society.

As we move forward, let’s draw the circle wide. Let’s grieve the loss, the change, the Transfiguration and then boldly step into it, not as fractured brands, but as a means together in renewal.

For me, what hit my heart as I thought of what can come as we let go, and prototype, a new term came clearly into view for the church ahead:

The Divergents.

Let’s become a beacon of healing, and doing life differently. Authentically, together in community, in the beautiful rainbow splendor of the Imageo Dei. Be the soul, that we were called to be for and of our world.

This past week, many have hit the c-tine wall. Lockdowns in some areas, restrictions in others, seeing neighbours die, and wondering if something will shift couppled with the sweeping cold of the polar vortex pushing us more into hibernation. One begins to wonder, ponder and mull.

As we rest in c-tine, what is the still quiet voice revealing about your experiences?

What calling is on your heart, and are you ready to step into it?

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Posted: May 9, 2020 by Ty in Spirituality
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On the eve of Mother’s Day

simply,

thankful,

for the wonderful Mum that taught me kindness, shared love, opened here family to all

A woman that many would come to see as Mum,

a blessing in our world,

and my life

and the life of my kids

whose spirit lives on in their own lives and acts of kindness

Happy Mother’s/Mum’s/Nana’s Day! May the tea party in paradise be sweeter, and the treats shareable, Mum. Not a day goes by we don’t talk, and I think of you, and see your wisdom, wonder, love and kindness in the eyes and hearts of my beautiful children, those that you shared so many laughs, and adventures with and shaped their understanding of faith beyond you will ever know, in the to short earthly time you were able to journey with us all, may the man I am today make you proud for all the heart, tears, laughs and prayers you invested in my walk

and to celebrate my Nan, my Mum’s Mum at this time as well:

Celebrating those my kids knew for a spark on their journey that aided in shaping them this Mother’s Day Weekend, like my Mum, many knew my Nan, as either Mrs. May, Nan or Granny to them and knew the love shared, laughs, and joy. For my kids I will always remember her in church with Leland helping him form the sounds to go with “Jesus Loves me” and Justina and her always taking some time together to get “done up” before tea time that we would have in the common areas of her apartment and lodges, inviting others to join as she shared how wonderful it was that her grandkids and great grandkids came for a day of fun, and the fun has never stopped with the joy shared, I still remember the day in Kindergarten when you went to the tea party in paradise Nan, and Justy came home to tell us it was all good, Granny flew down to the play ground in her airplane for tea and play time like we always do.

Celebrate tomorrow, and let your kids listen to the words of our Prime Minister

May during this C-Tine, you find your safe Mum to love and to love you, just the way you are.

mum & Nan


I wasn’t that old, it was at a family dinner at my Nan and Granddad’s I remember. The image on the screen, the man in blue and red catching the helicopter…and yes I believed what I had seen on the spinner rack at the Mac’s stores— a man could fly. Christopher Reeve was the embodiment of hope. Superman and Clark Kent. There was a time with this meta-myth I would easily say one was born knowing who Superman was, with the advent of social media and algorithms, and those that only chase “gloomy realness” I am not so sure anymore. There has been many movies (I discount Man of Steel and Batman versus Superman), t.v. shows, cartoons, radio shows, novels, comics (monthly, weekly, comic strips, graphic novels, and collections out there)–and a host of family-Supergirl, Superboy, Bippo the Super-monkey if you will.

Yet at the core, is a hero designed by two Jewish boys. The original iteration was a villain, but by the time Action Comics #1 (1928) hit the newsstands, it was the familiar hero we know today. Superman started out fighting corporate corruption, as a voice and hero for the disenfranchised, the other. He was in PSA’s against racism, and fought the KKK. He would save the multi-verse, and fight to sexual trafficking as well in his career. My most familiar version was the post-crisis one crafted by Calgarian, John Byrne.

But I digress (can you see the fan boy coming through). What is the origin of the Man of Steel? The Man of Tomorrow? And how does it tie into the ancient wisdom stories of the Hebrew Bible and our modern world discourse around climate change today?

The Moses story was the meta-narrative used to craft the origin. Moses as the Hebrew Bible’s book of Exodus, tells us there came a crisis for the Hebrew people in the land of Egypt. Pharaoh did not know the patriarch that had settled them, and he became fearful of the nation within his walls (hearing anything about our current political climate in those words? Fear generation?). As such, Pharaoh set out on an program of genocide by eliminating all male babies of a certain age to ensure a culling. Moses’ family set Moses out in a basket on the river for a safer life, a new life, they did not know if it would work, but they hoped.

Moses was raised as an Egyptian, and upon discovering his roots, became a voice and actor of hope and emancipation for his people.

Jor-El, saw a world ending crisis coming to Krypton. He took his scientific data to the governing council that did not want to act. Did not want to create a panic in the populace. Did not want to believe that nature would conspire to rebel against their unethical dominionist ways. They laughed, they mocked, they used media to discredit him as hokey, call it a farce, fake news, fake facts, that this is all about the normal rhythms of space and their world.

Jor-el and his wife built a rocket to save their son from this self-inflicted genocide of the planet Krypton driven by ignorance. For what would have been the cost to listen? What would have been the cost to make their world and their people healthier by transitioning industries? Supporting one another? Why they would have to change the great Kryptonian ethos of “we’ve always done it this way.”

Kal-el was rocketed to earth. As he grew through puberty and his powers emerged, technology allowed for him to connect with his heritage. He grew, with the support of the core values he was raised with as Clark Kent, into a symbol of hope, and an emancipator for Earth from fear and corruption though the battle was a bit more cyclical than what the Hebrews had–wait—having read the Hebrew Bible, nope it was just as cyclical as that ancient wisdom works share with us.

Both Moses and Superman became hope. Jor-el is a symbol of what happens when we ignore science and truth because it is inconvenient, or disruptive to an echo chamber narrative we want to craft. I may not think climate change will be as catastrophic as the young are predicting, but I am no scientist. Though I have to ask, if we shift gears to a healthier relationship with creation, more of a caretaker than the strip mine dominion approach, back to the actual relationship and entrustment God gave us in Genesis 3 what is the worst that can happen? Cleaner air? Cleaner water? More equitable relationships between nations? Healthier holistic life? Being able to see and be with one another as neighbour?

If it is true and we ignore the end game is Krypton’s. Though there is another end game in the journey no one is addressing, by the voracious and bully focus of climate denial, we are doing something else. We are telling a generation of youth, our leaders now and in the future, that we did not equip them, we do not trust them, they are not valid or valued as members of society. Let that sink in. Aside from austerity measures that are harming the most vulnerable:

we through our lack of ability to discourse and change, are telling our young that they do not matter and then became outraged when their response to Gen X to the Baby Boom is the middle finger.

The question before us on planet earth is simple, who in the origin story of hope do we want to be:

The Kryptonian High Council or Jor-el?


It is a story told over two volumes:

A stone skipping across a pond leaves ripples with each impact.

The joys and life of traumas are the like the skipping stone through the generations.

Soul Ripples

What happens when the helper needs help?

For over 20 years Ty Ragan served his neighbour from the rough camps to the shelters to home and every where’s in-between. The simple life lesson of Jesus of Nazareth to love your neighbour as yourself was the centre question to be answered in his life. In May 2016 his life would begin to change drastically through unknown seizures and strokes.

Enter into the ripples that brought him to 2016, the transformational power of love of family and friends as he seeks new ripples in hope for his soul.

cover

Buy Soul Ripples here.

Then enter the healing with Soul Ripples Two by clicking link in the caption of the picture:

centennial coffee

Soul Ripples 2

Enjoy the journey, and please share with those you think need to see that healing is possible…and Hope abounds.


There are many four letter words that have come out of my mouth during this journey, and have been applied to my life and the ripple effects with my family. My journey on healing from trauma was supported awesomely though by having family it allowed me the space to heal. Not only heal, but make the connections within my flashbacks to trace core memories of trauma that needed to be rooted out, and healed to create the ripple within my own person.

It did feel like energy and electricity bursting through my body and leaving during the sessions. It was amazing as the weeks between would pass and different emotions of the spectrum would be felt- both positive and negative.

Yet, the work I did between sessions I would not encourage someone without a healthy in home support network to do…for in the isolation it could very easily go from healing to suicidal, it was a trip into the darkness and trusting the light path to bring you out.

Yes I am a person of faith, and that faith whether out there or subtle have played a role in my life. The same with this journey, and I am glad that in my life prayer and action go hand in hand, and the constant dialogue within myself and the Holy Mystery is there. It was amazing as I began healing to see the different opportunities that opened up for me and my family, the different places where we could connect for joy, love and healing. Where our faith would be rewarded, and where we could see communities around us come out of their own struggles into a new dynamic understanding of belonging as happened with our home church in Calgary in regards to the faith challenged laid down by my son to them.

This is the winding road. The ripples like upon a river or lake created by a skipping stone. The soul ripples that answered the question, what happens when the helper needs help?

They discover who their true family is (whether blood or chosen, there are many who journeyed with us, and blessed us communally and individually that I may or may not have mentioned in these two volumes, to you all I say thank you). You also discover your own true self anew.

It was this sense that brought me to the remission appointment at the Foothills Hospital with my PhD. Psychologist where the healing began on February 14, 2019. Here I was entering the office once more on October 31, 2019…

Not knowing what may or may not come of the meeting, but one thing was certain.

Today was the day; I could firmly stand in my faith, in my healing.

It was the day where the four letter word that had carried my family through the darkness was fully lived and embraced. It was a beautiful four letters:

H-O-P-E-

My step into hope of the new dawn of my pilgrimage with Brother Jesus as I once more stepped into the office.