Hello Families

I am thinking about how each of you might be feeling as you read this newsletter. I wonder what your week was like, what you thought of the poem from last week. It is an unusual business to be a minister, particularly in this time. Our job, at least in part, is to reach out to people, to comfort them, to administer care to their spirit, and in this time of physical distancing; I must trust that my words alone can reach you. I cannot see your faces or share a smile at a Messy Church gathering. The relationship that I was hired to facilitate must be forged without us knowing one another. The strangeness of trying to reach out to you without our eyes meeting is not lost on me. But for many years, the written word has tugged upon so many of us and made us feel like we have been seen and understood. The great writers, past and present, have reached into their own souls, to the part of themselves that is connected to every other thing in creation, and told their story. Ultimately, when done well, their story is our story. I find that an inspiration and a great reminder that whatever it looks like on the outside—we are not separated. I have always loved to write. When I was a little girl, I was a voracious reader. They say that every writer begins that way, just devouring words as if they are food.

One of the greats whom I admire is Maya Angelou. She was a woman who faced great tragedy in her life. As a child, after a traumatic event, she stopped speaking. For seven years, she did not utter one word. Instead, she read. She read and she read, and she read some more. Eventually, she did speak again. And she wrote. She wrote magnificent books of poetry and she danced, and she sang. She fought for justice and became a regal, fierce, phenomenal woman. Tragedy visited her life, as it visits all of us human creatures, but it did not have the last word. It never does. I do not know if you have had a hard week or an amazing week. Perhaps like me, this time has made you see that those things--amazement and challenge, are often all bound up together. Whatever it was for you, I hope there is some peace. I hope that you remember that you are not alone. I am thinking of you. We at McDougall are thinking of you. And you are not alone.