Departing Vancouver British Columbia

Per chance, an accident . . .

The End of 2002

When I last wrote, I shared that I had received a strong message to “Stay put” in the Vancouver area. The events that transpired over the next few weeks quickly erased any doubt I might have had regarding that wisdom.

First, in mid-December, en route to the local Superstore to get a film developed, I was involved in a motor vehicle accident. While driving along a busy street during rush hour (W 70th, for those familiar with Vancouver), another car rushed out of a side street directly into my path. I managed to get the van turned slightly so the impact was on the side of both vehicles as opposed to colliding head-on. Luckily, no one was injured in the accident, and the other driver has claimed full responsibility. His car was totalled; Buckskin took the damage down the passenger side, including a gashed tire. Unfortunately, the other driver was not insured. The appraiser estimated the damage to my van at just over $6000, but then it doesn’t take much body damage to rack up a big bill. SGI (my insurance in Saskatchewan) claimed a total loss for the van, which meant they paid me, and I have arranged for the repairs myself. In addition to the body work, Buckskin needed repairs to the suspension and steering, not to mention new tires. I am happy to report that the repairs were completed this week, and that the van passed the safety inspection with flying colours.

Second, I spent most of Christmas in bed with a fever of 102. Whatever virus I was hosting kept me down for almost 3 weeks with a variety of symptoms, including fatigue. This week, I am finally feeling well again.

During my time here in Vancouver, I have felt as though I have been encased in a cocoon. At first, the security of a safe and quiet space was very comforting, but after a few weeks, I began to feel restless again. I think I have discovered how the butterfly feels. During the initial stage of the metamorphosis, all is quiet as the new wings begin to take shape. Once the wings are formed, however, the restlessness begins, driving the butterfly to stretch and push against the confines of the cocoon wall. To me, it feels like I am surrounded by a pulsating buzz that originates from deep within me. The trick is to let the process unfold naturally, however, and I am reminded of this story:

One day as a small opening appeared on a cocoon, a man sat and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled to force its body through that little hole. Then it seemed to stop making any progress. It appeared as if it had gotten as far as it could and it could go no further.

So the man decided to help the butterfly. He took a pair of scissors and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon. The butterfly then emerged easily. But it had a swollen body and small, shriveled wings. The man continued to watch the butterfly because he expected that, at any moment, the wings would enlarge and expand to be able to support the body, which would contract in time. Neither happened! In fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled wings. It never was able to fly.

What the man in his kindness and haste did not understand was that the restricting cocoon and the struggle required for the butterfly to get through the tiny opening were Nature’s way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly into its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it achieved its freedom from the cocoon.

Sometimes, struggles are exactly what we need in our life. If we were allowed to go through our life without any obstacles, it would cripple us. We would not be as strong as what we could have been. We could never fly.

Without a doubt, I have felt the struggle of the past few months as I have journeyed through a time of intense grief. Through this time, I have felt surrounded by many prayers, and it has been a time of deep blessing. But now, I feel ready to fly again, and so…

I have been invited to provide pulpit supply for a congregation in the south end of Richmond (which is south of Vancouver) on Sunday January 19. I’m taking that as a hint to head south! So, following the service, I will continue south to Seattle aiming for the deserts of Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas. I will continue searching out ancient holy sites and aboriginal rock art.

I want to express my gratitude to the many who have maintained a sacred space for me during this time of transition. Holy Creator of all that is divine, I give thanks for the blanket of prayers that has surrounded me, for the generosity of those who own the home I have been house sitting, for the graciousness of the congregation of University Hill Chapel, for the wisdom and patience of my spiritual director, and for the many strangers who have welcomed me. It is good to have an end to journey towards, but it is the Journey that matters in the end. Here’s to the J/journey!