So many thoughts and feelings have been swirling around within me since learning of the remains of 215 children discovered buried on the grounds of the former “Indian Residential School” in Kamloops. I’m sure, like me, you are reeling with the emotional impact of such a tragedy. As I have said elsewhere in this Newsletter let us ask God’s help to transform those thoughts and emotions into determined action to be part of the journey we share with others toward a more just, loving, inclusive, society. Let us be among the forces of ‘good’ that work for healing, reconciliation, and right relations as between Indigenous and Non-Indigenous peoples. I am reminded that all people, everywhere, are part of God’s good and beloved creation. We are all connected by virtue of our common humanity and by the presence of the Spirit flowing in, around, and through us. We are all cherished and loved by God. And we are called to cherish and love one another and be in right and just relationship with one another.
Here is a poem that speaks to me of this connectivity, not only within the human species, but all species, all creation. Let us nurture a strong sense of that connection that exists between and among all God’s creation:
The Web
"As I walked through the bush one morning during autumn,
I came across a perfectly formed spider’s web bright with dew.
The delicately woven strands reminded me that as we live and work….
We spin out the thread of life that connects and supports us all.
The web of support that joins me to my friends is like a lifeline.
Sometimes I can almost feel it – tiny golden threads tying my heart to the hearts of others.
My passion for life….fueled by theirs.
And my life is never the same.
I am a porous being.
There are new spaces in my soul like the open places in a web.
Other people pass through me.
I am changed and sometimes I am born again
to a whole new way of being, of understanding myself,
my work, and the world.
The dreams we spin need to be tied to something.
The spider’s web I saw was attached
to the graceful curve at the end of a wild blackberry cane.
By Jeanette Stokes. Birthings and Blessings. P. 84.
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