This is a very long poem...but it tells me something about what brokeness is...

THE DEATH OF THE HIRED MAN

-Robert Frost

Mary sat musing on the lamp-flame at the table
Waiting for Warren. When she heard his step,
She ran on tip-toe down the darkened passage
To meet him in the doorway with the news
And put him on his guard. 'Silas is back.'
She pushed him outward with her through the door
And shut it after her. "Be kind,' she said.
She took the market things from Warren's arms
And set them on the porch, then drew him down
To sit beside her on the wooden steps.
'When was I ever anything but kind to him?
But I'll not have the fellow back,' he said.
'I told him so last haying, didn't I?
"If he left then," I said, "that ended it."
What good is he? Who else will harbour him
At his age for the little he can do?
What help he is there's no depending on.
Off he goes always when I need him most.
'He thinks he ought to earn a little pay,
Enough at least to buy tobacco with,
won't have to beg and be beholden."
"All right," I say "I can't afford to pay
Any fixed wages, though I wish I could."
"Someone else can."
"Then someone else will have to.
I shouldn't mind his bettering himself
If that was what it was. You can be certain,
When he begins like that, there's someone at him
Trying to coax him off with pocket-money, --
In haying time, when any help is scarce.
In winter he comes back to us. I'm done.'
'Shh I not so loud: he'll hear you,' Mary said.
'I want him to: he'll have to soon or late.'
'He's worn out. He's asleep beside the stove.
When I came up from Rowe's I found him here,
Huddled against the barn-door fast asleep,
A miserable sight, and frightening, too-
You needn't smile -- I didn't recognize him-
I wasn't looking for him- and he's changed.
Wait till you see.'
'Where did you say he'd been?
'He didn't say. I dragged him to the house,
And gave him tea and tried to make him smoke.
I tried to make him talk about his travels.
Nothing would do: he just kept nodding off.'
'What did he say? Did he say anything?'
'But little.'
'Anything? Mary, confess
He said he'd come to ditch the meadow for me.'
'Warren!'
'But did he? I just want to know.'
'Of course he did. What would you have him say?
Surely you wouldn't grudge the poor old man
Some humble way to save his self-respect.
He added, if you really care to know,
He meant to dear the upper pasture, too.
That sounds like something you have heard before?
Warren, I wish you could have heard the way
He jumbled everything. I stopped to look
Two or three times -- he made me feel so queer--
To see if he was talking in his sleep.
He ran on Harold Wilson -- you remember -
The boy you had in haying four years since.
He's finished school, and teaching in his college.
Silas declares you'll have to get him back.
He says they two will make a team for work:
Between them they will lay this farm as smooth!
The way he mixed that in with other things.
He thinks young Wilson a likely lad, though daft
On education -- you know how they fought
All through July under the blazing sun,
Silas up on the cart to build the load,
Harold along beside to pitch it on.'
'Yes, I took care to keep well out of earshot.'
'Well, those days trouble Silas like a dream.
You wouldn't think they would. How some things linger!
Harold's young college boy's assurance piqued him.
After so many years he still keeps finding
Good arguments he sees he might have used.
I sympathize. I know just how it feels
To think of the right thing to say too late.
Harold's associated in his mind with Latin.
He asked me what I thought of Harold's saying
He studied Latin like the violin
Because he liked it -- that an argument!
He said he couldn't make the boy believe
He could find water with a hazel prong--
Which showed how much good school had ever done
him. He wanted to go over that. 'But most of all
He thinks if he could have another chance
To teach him how to build a load of hay --'
'I know, that's Silas' one accomplishment.
He bundles every forkful in its place,
And tags and numbers it for future reference,
So he can find and easily dislodge it
In the unloading. Silas does that well.
He takes it out in bunches like big birds' nests.
You never see him standing on the hay
He's trying to lift, straining to lift himself.'
'He thinks if he could teach him that, he'd be
Some good perhaps to someone in the world.
He hates to see a boy the fool of books.
Poor Silas, so concerned for other folk,
And nothing to look backward to with pride,
And nothing to look forward to with hope,
So now and never any different.'
Part of a moon was filling down the west,
Dragging the whole sky with it to the hills.
Its light poured softly in her lap. She saw
And spread her apron to it. She put out her hand
Among the harp-like morning-glory strings,
Taut with the dew from garden bed to eaves,
As if she played unheard the tenderness
That wrought on him beside her in the night.
'Warren,' she said, 'he has come home to die:
You needn't be afraid he'll leave you this time.'
'Home,' he mocked gently.
'Yes, what else but home?
It all depends on what you mean by home.
Of course he's nothing to us, any more
then was the hound that came a stranger to us
Out of the woods, worn out upon the trail.'
'Home is the place where, when you have to go there,
They have to take you in.'
'I should have called it
Something you somehow haven't to deserve.'
Warren leaned out and took a step or two,
Picked up a little stick, and brought it back
And broke it in his hand and tossed it by.
'Silas has better claim on' us, you think,
Than on his brother? Thirteen little miles
As the road winds would bring him to his door.
Silas has walked that far no doubt to-day.
Why didn't he go there? His brother's rich,
A somebody- director in the bank.'
'He never told us that.'
'We know it though.'
'I think his brother ought to help, of course.
I'll see to that if there is need. He ought of right
To take him in, and might be willing to-=
He may be better than appearances.
But have some pity on Silas. Do you think
If he'd had any pride in claiming kin
Or anything he looked for from his brother,
He'd keep so still about him all this time?'
'I wonder what's between them.'
'I can tell you.
Silas is what he is -- we wouldn't mind him--
But just the kind that kinsfolk can't abide.
He never did a thing so very bad.
He don't know why he isn't quite as good
As anyone. He won't be made ashamed
To please his brother, worthless though he is.'
'I can't think Si ever hurt anyone.'
'No, but he hurt my heart the way he lay
And rolled his old head on that sharp-edged chair-back.
He wouldn't let me put him on the lounge.
You must go in and see what you can do.
I made the bed up for him there to-night.
You'll be surprised at him -- how much he's broken.
His working days are done; I'm sure of it.'
'I'd not be in a hurry to say that.'
'I haven't been. Go, look, see for yourself.
But, Warren, please remember how it is:
He' come to help you ditch the meadow.
He has a plan, You mustn't laugh at him.
He may not speak of it, and then he may.
I'll sit and see if that small sailing cloud
Will hit or miss the moon.'
It hit the moon.
Then there were three there, making a dim row,
The moon, the little silver cloud, and she.
Warren returned-- too soon, it seemed to her,
Slipped to her side, caught up her hand and waited.
'Warren?' she questioned.
'Dead,' was all he answered.

acquainted with the night
-Robert Frost

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain --and back in rain.
I have out walked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.

Mugging....

 

Words for the church

I am grateful for your interest in our work.

We believe that everyone deserves proper housing. They support specific
projects that house those who are most vulnerable.

In simple terms we provides short term transitional housing for women with a history of street involvement, homelessness and prostitution. After a two year run the original project was closed due to lack of funding. After a four year closure, I am happy to report that we have now reopened.

My name is Dave and I am the project manager. The house is currently home to six women who came to us from shelters, the street or unsafe housing. By late January an additional 7 residents will be able to call our place their home.

Our place is made up or four houses, 16 bedrooms, 8 bathrooms, 4 kitchens, 4 living rooms and two laundry rooms. Within those walls women who find the courage to believe that change can happen in their lives are supported while they begin the precarious journey of reclaiming their lives. This journey will include facing the dark and difficult realities of addiction, mental and physical illness and relational brokenness. Beyond these challenges, women living with us are asked to consider the barriers which exist to their independence and success. Each woman owns a story marked with similar themes and characters. Labels and stigma attached to their stories make it difficult for them to imagine life in a home, with their children and a stable network of friends, supports and services to build a sustainable future.

During their stay with us, women and trans-gendered individuals are supported by a team of compassionate and supportive staff members. The staff endeavors to remain involved in each woman’s story and to support positive changes and steps toward independence. This can be an agonizingly slow series of steps. We rejoice in an appointment booked and kept, we celebrate when a resident asks for help in entering a treatment program. We feel that women are moving forward in their journey when they begin to consider housing options.

A measure of success happens when a client has come to the place where they choose to live in a community and accommodations of their own choosing. As transitional housing, we are able to provide an important step in getting there. The work of our team however does not end when a woman moves into her own apartment. The team then becomes part of the wrap around supports to build successful tenancy into each woman’s story. Women who move out to live independently are provided with a bed, dresser, kitchen table and chairs as well as bedding and towels. No one moves out into an empty place. Staff members are involved in the furnishing and outfitting of new housing.

In Jonathan Larson’s Broadway hit musical Rent a year in the life of its characters is broken down into minutes. The opening of the second act begins with the words:

525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear.
525,600 minutes - how do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee.
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.
In 525,600 minutes - how do you measure a year in a life?

A year in the life of our program can be measured in minutes as well. It can be measured in the number of days someone stays clean, it can be measured in visits with children who hope to rejoin their mother in a home of their own. Days and hours mark the regimen of medications needed to ensure another year of life. A year can be measured in conversations that lead to decisions and relapses that create an opportunity to consider change yet again. Within the 525600 minutes of each year groceries and bus tickets will be needed; salaries and utilities will have to be paid. In order for the houses to be homes furniture must be purchased, bedding provided, fridges must be filled, clothes and life necessities must be provided.

During this season you will be given many opportunities to give to good and worthy causes. I want to thank-you for including us in your generosity. The broader questions within our society need to be asked: Why do we have to exist? What aspects of our society create a market price for women who are vulnerable or homeless? But those questions only find meaning when we realize that real women and girls with names and families are a part of our extended human family. They are at least worthy of respect and an opportunity to leave their lives of exploitation if they choose to. Their voices are often drowned out by the clamor of other legitimate needs. At least this morning allow me to join with these women and countless others who may pass through our door and ask you to remember these daughters, mothers and sisters. As a person of faith and as a Christian brother I count it a privilege to bring them to you today and speak for them when I say thank-you on their behalf.

O Lord, I have heard a good word inviting me to look away to Thee and be satisfied. My heart longs to respond, but sin has clouded my vision till I see Thee but dimly. Be pleased to cleanse me in Thine own precious blood, and make me inwardly pure, so that I may with unveiled eyes gaze upon Thee all the days of my earthly pilgrimage. Then shall I be prepared to behold Thee in full splendor in the day when Thou shalt appear to be glorified in Thy saints and admired in all them that believe. Amen.

I work in a school...

"For man is born for trouble, As sparks fly upward." -Job 5:7

I keep coming back to this blog...and hoping that I will continue to build it. A lot has changed since the last post...in fact almost everything has. I am working at a new job...in Edmonton's inner city and it is a place where I suppose not many people would want to work. My office looks out over the one of the toughest and most impoverished neighborhoods in Canada. And it it is exactly where I want to be...

I lost my other job when the company I worked for went bankrupt. It was a surprise...and it left me a little rattled. The cashflow changed, and the focus of the past five years was blurred into a million questions about what, when and how the future was going to unfold. It still makes me shake my head when I realize what kind of jeopardy my future was in.

I went to a job interview in this old school. The people who met me at the office weren't sure what job I had applied for and to tell you the truth...I wasn't really sure either. The lady that interviewed me looked tired and care worn. The people in the room seemed to want to ask a thousand questions...about my resume (I have some questions too!). In the end they hired me...not because of my resume...I think...but because we had a great chat and somehow I convinced the people in that room, and especially the care worn woman that I could manage a program in their organization. That I could take it from theory and history into the present and future. It still makes me scratch my head and say...."hmmm".

Welcome friends...there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother...

I have never been to Peace River. Can I tell you about a miracle...I was having a pep talk with myself driving to Peace River...(I don't usually go to Peace River...but recently was assigned two accounts there)...It was one of those... "You are in a rut, you must get out of the rut...the ruts are everywhere...you are 45, you need to grow up, you need to take some responsiblilty." I went to my 9:30 appt. no one showed up...no problem, went to my 10:30, "She won't be here til one". I found myself in the prettiest town in Alberta...hands down...with a few hours to wander around and be with myself (try it some time it isn't as much fun as it sounds). I thought about the only people I know in Peace River and I thought if I wandered around enough I 'd run into my old friend Jake. It was kind of unlikely...but I had a "sense" that I would. When I showed up for my 1:00...who was standing behind the till? Jake...my blessed (say...bleh said) friend. I think we were both a little shocked...I couldn't articulate there what was going on. In the we said goodbye, he gave me a worship CD and I drove off, with the promise that we would have lunch together the next time I was there. I am not sure that he will ever realise how good, genuinely, altogether good, it was to see him. That meeting has unleashed a flury of facebook postings and re-acquaintance with more friends, better than I could have dreamed...there is something ordained in it all. My mother always said, "To err is human, to forgive divine". It has taken me a long time to engage the divine on my behalf, but I believe it is happening...peacefully, in my heart, without the added noise of religion, or guilt. Without the blush of shame and the darkness of ungrace.

A LONG TIME COMIN'

I know...it has been a long time...but not to say that I have forgotten entirely about this blog. I turned 45 a few days ago...and I was woken up from a slumber of sorts. I am glad to say...that I have seen some light on the horizon of my spiritual journey...it has been clouded by my past and for a season God and I had a strictly hands off policy. Not to say that we weren't on speaking terms...but we were both quietly leaving eachother alone. Its a long story...one I am not sure I entirely understand...

Can you help us?

The picture here is one I took last fall in Vancouver. My Mom and I drove through the city on a big trip we took. She had come to visit many friends and we saw the better part of both Vancouver island and the lower mainland. The lady in the picture is not my mom...but I thought it was beautiful...the huge sky and ths little lady...

Home Week

It has been so long...but have been thinking about this blog and wanting to add to it. We are in the midst of planning a big trip. First, on June 29 Peggy, me and Lealand will fly to San Diego with a team from our church...to build a house and do some outreach in Ensenada, Mexico. Aimee and Tage will join us a week later and we will go on a cruise along the west coast of Mexico. Five days later we will land and head up to the hills above San Diego for a week of rest and relaxation at a condo/resort. Since we went to Hawaii we have been trying to figure out how we get back to somewhere with palm trees.

In the mean time we are all working hard. Well almost all of us. This is a week at home for me. I am off the road waiting on a new cycle. So...I am reading, cleaning my office and clearing junk out of the house.

I have been working with the team that is going to Mexico since last fall. I have to say I am proud of them. Hard working, adventurous, passionate and excited. Quite a few on the team were with me in Toronto a couple of summers ago (you can see blog entries about that trip a few pages back). I told them then I'd take them anywhere in the world I went. A few have taken it up with me. The rest are a mish mash of good people. And the fundraising is going great! No head aches there.

It is finished...

men that r trees

Hippy Summer

Savior....like a shepherd lead us...

Monday...already?

We are one week into our trip...already! The kids fly home today...sigh! We will miss them. They are a lot of fun when work, school and university are not cluttering their lives. Lealand has bought a Ukelele! Anything with strings! We went out the other night to celebrate mother's day and my birthday...

Yesterday, Sunday we spent the better part of the day at Big Beach...saw another turtle and Tage and I saw a shark...we think...it was the biggest fish we had seen...and it was long and sleek like a shark...at least 5 feet long...we promptly swam out of the water...but it did not deter us from heading out again...