"A farmer went out to sow his seed…" (Spring 2001)
In the spring of 1969, at the age of 12, I asked my parents’ permission to transform a 10-foot by 15-foot area of lawn into a vegetable garden. After peeling back the sod and turning the earth with a shovel, I granulated every clod of dirt by hand. Preparing and planting that garden awakened me to new perspectives. To this day when I consider Jesus’ words, "…the smallest seed planted in the ground…yet, when planted, becomes the largest of all garden plants," in my mind’s eye I see the towering sunflowers I planted that summer and am humbled.
A Day in the Bush (Winter 2003-2004)
For the past couple of weeks now, we have awakened to frost on our lawn. A small fire in the stove takes the chill out of the air inside. A week ago I arose before dawn, made a few sandwiches, loaded my gear, and drove to the edge of the Duck Mountain Provincial Park, 15 miles southeast of where we live.
Walking to Bethlehem (Christmas 2006)
Here’s a ditty to turn over in your mind as you walk. Written by W. H. Davies it goes: “Now shall I walk or shall I ride?” “Ride,” Pleasure said; “Walk,” Joy replied. I owe many things to my parents, not the least is my love for walking. I would rather walk than ride any day and I want to invite you to come along. But before we go too far down this trail together, I need to tell you up front that walking can become an addiction as deadly as that of any crack-addict, as time-consuming as that of any stock-market trader, as wasteful as watching soap-operas. But even when driven to these extremes, it is a glorious madness, and I recommend it with a passion. “Ride,” Pleasure said; “Walk,” Joy replied.