​When I was seventeen, I had a heated argument with one of my mother's friends. I was insistent that, as a twenty-first century young woman, I had all the opportunity of a twentieth century young man. Perhaps even more opportunity, I argued, because school systems at the time were being identified as favouring ‘female’ learning styles. How lucky was I to believe I could do anything?! What more could I want for my daughter?
 
And, I am privileged, because it has taken me until becoming pregnant and having a baby to feel like the cards are somewhat stacked against me because of my gender. I started my PhD  this September. And, transitioning into academia has been very hard simply because it is a culture in which women predominantly do not have kids. No one has done anything rude or told me I can't succeed. But, the fact that the majority of my mentors have chosen not to be mothers is daunting. I had one professor tell me out of the blue that she “doesn't know how she could do her job if she had kids.” Though I think she meant the comment in admiration of my work ethic, it did make me question if doing both is possible (while maintaining some level of sanity).
 
While finding myself intimidated by the prospect of walking the line between mother and academic, I have also found myself grateful for participating in a spiritual community that affirms a sense of 'calling' or 'vocation.' It is easier for me to approach life these days as a journey towards a 'call' rather than steps along the academic career. A call doesn't really have failures or 'publish or perish' threats. Maybe my call right now is simply to negotiate a way to straddle the roles of mother and academic, while making intensely personal choices about my own priorities. 
 
In any case, having a daughter has certainly troubled my academic aspirations, but it has also ignited a desire to passionately live into my muddled calling so she knows she can follow her vocation, whatever that may be. 

​Summer is a busy time- away on the road, travelling to family and cottages and places far flung.  We could get guilty about not being at church- but I would rather like to think about how can you bring faith on the road? I know of a church that invites their people to bring a “cartoon Jesus “on the road with them and they take photos of it and share photos and adventures with the congregation. Where do you see the body of Christ active where you are travelling? We remember that God is already active and moving in all the places we will visit – it’s our gift to try and spot it and get involved!

​     Our son, Nathaniel, loves church. More specifically…Nathaniel loves it when Jane, the organist, plays the organ at church. In fact even before he was born, Nathaniel would start to kick each Sunday morning when the organ started to play. He absolutely loves the music. (I think that we can start saving for lessons in the future) Now, what’s great about this is that Nathaniel tends to be quiet during service because even if he’s fussy, it’s normally only a couple of minutes before the organ pipes up again. And with that, he typically falls back to sleep. And so a few weeks ago it shocked me when, during the Apostle’s Creed, I heard him start to cry. Now on that Sunday there were multiple children in church – any of whom could have been making the noise.  And needless to say that I have certainly heard children exercise their lungs in the middle of worship before. In fact, I like it when you can hear children playing and talking in the middle of service. And yet on that Sunday, and when Nathaniel started to cry, it took everything in my power not to stop the service, go back to where my wife, Holly, was sitting, and check on my son. I knew that Holly had everything under control…and yet when I heard his cries, they echoed into the depths of my stomach, and in that moment I wanted nothing more than to make the crying stop. Not because it was interrupting the creed. Not because it was disturbing the service. But because my love for my son means that I never want him to be upset…I never want him to be hungry…I never want him to be scared. Oh sure, it will happen. In fact it already has. But my love means that I will do just about anything to come to aid of my crying child.
            I think that the same can be said of our God as well, for God too hears the cries of God’s children, and comes to our aid. In fact that is precisely the promise we find in John’s gospel, the promise that when we hunger, and when we thirst; it is the bread from heaven which satisfies our needs. We who have eaten today, may not quite understand the depths of human hunger that a piece of physical bread can satisfy. But we do know what it is like to hunger, to need something. And we most certainly know what it is like to have a God whose love meets us in the midst of that need. For when we find ourselves hungering for peace amidst a racing and tumultuous world, it is God who gives us a moment of rest. And when we hunger for healing amidst illness and disease: it is God who sits with us, and comforts us while we wait. And when we hunger for community and connectedness: it is God who unites us into one connected body, into one community. Fractured, broken, imperfect though we may be à God hears our cries, and God gives us hope. For when we needed forgiveness, God tore open the heavens. When we needed direction, Christ stooped to wash his friend’s feet. And when we needed to know that we were loved beyond all measure, it was a defeated cross and an empty grave that whispered God’s grace and God’s love into our lives.
            You know, when my wife and I were preparing for Nathaniel’s baptism a couple of weeks ago, friends from Ontario came to visit. On Monday morning we made our way to Hirtle’s Beach, stopping at a little convenience store in Rose Bay along the way. Now in that store you can find just about anything. From Schnitzel to Sour Candy and everything in between. And this worked out well, for as our friends were searching for something to drink, they happened upon several bottles of Pop Shoppe Pop  – a beverage that drew them right back to their childhood. Well they were beyond excited. In fact, the old saying, like kids in a candy store, would have been an understatement. They filled a basket with these cherished beverages, and then even convinced us to buy a couple bottles of Pop Shoppe Pop to try for ourselves. They loved that stuff so much, that they couldn’t imagine passing it by. But what’s more, is that they were willing to go out of their way to make sure that we too got a taste.
            I want us to be that excited. Not about a sip of Pop Shoppe Pop…but about a taste of the living bread from heaven. I want us to be so impassioned about the promised hope of Christ that we simply cannot imagine passing it by. And perhaps most of all, I want us to be so enthused for ministry that we will go to the darkest places….the deepest valleys…the highest mountains…and the furthest corners of God’s world – just to make sure that everyone knows the sweet taste of the goodness of God. Because it is in that bread that we will be fed. It is through that cup that we will receive God’s perfect love. And, dear friends, it is by the gifts of God for the people of God, that we will be filled with God’s most abundant hope.
 
 
 

​Kids in church has been a hot topic in the blogosphere of late. All I want to do in this piece is share a short good news story, because we can always use more of those. 
 
I attend a church that most people would avoid. Actually, where it not for some very specific circumstances, I would probably have avoided it as well. The church has a history of years of conflict; lately it has been at a low point recovering from a series of upheavals. But these days I am at this church most Sundays with my family, and, as it turns out, another young family began attending last year as well. So, we have exactly 2 committed families at my church and a whopping total of three children. Everyone else is over 50. I am not exaggerating.
 
Despite our small number, last spring, church council empowered 'the parents' to do want we wanted to create space for our children at church. All of us decided that we wanted to have our kids in the sanctuary during the service. Now, a few months later, we have a quiet time play space in the sanctuary and a crying room right outside. Two more families have begun attending church semi-regularly. I have heard no complaints about the pews that were removed to create the play space. But, many people comment on how great it is two have up to 7 kids in the service. 
 
Who knows if more kids will come. My point really is: it took one committed long term church member and two sets of parents about 5 hours over a couple months to create a kid friendly/family friendly space in worship. I'm not a fan of Nike, but the "just do it" philosophy certainly has its merits.