You Aren’t Dollarama.

We were sitting in the sanctuary yesterday about to start our Sunday service. It was 1:55, and most everything had been set up (or so I thought). Had opened the doors, gotten the song books out, put communion on the table, and gotten distracted by lighting the advent candles for the first time ever. I was so pleased to have a special job, that I forgot to set up a couple of things, including our singing bowl and offering basket. This was not a big deal in the slightest. We all participate in our Sunday service, as a staff and community. A community member had noticed the offering basket was missing and found it herself to place at the front. This kind of participation is encouraged, if not celebrated. I am not the sole setter-upper for one day, none of us are.

In a joking way I said out loud, “Oh man! I forgot the offering basket. Who even let me in here? Sheesh!” A friend and fellow community member was sitting in front of me. She tends to take things literally, not necessarily noticing sarcasm. “Well Mama Meagan…” she said (this is her affectionate nickname for me). “You aren’t Dollarama. You were made to make mistakes.”

I was very confused. I looked at Erinn for guidance and she also was confused. “Say that again?”

“You aren’t Dollarama. You were made to make mistakes.”

She went on to explain that at Dollarama there are no exchanges and no refunds. If you buy the wrong thing in a mistake, then you’re stuck with it. She much prefers our local small discount shop called Budget, where you can’t return for a refund, but can at least make an exchange.

I was amazed at my friend. She often makes up little expressions like this, or actions to songs we sing during church like her own sign language, and funny little puns. Her wisdom and grace was a gift to me in that moment in the form of an expression that was a riddle to me. Of course now it makes perfect sense.

I am thankful for grace which allows me to make mistakes, that I have encouragement upon forgetting, and that I am joined by a community of other people that are happy to participate in our service. I am thankful for my friend and her sayings that mean so much. I know Christmas can be an overwhelming season where fatigue is high and patience is low. I hope you remember this week that it is okay to make mistakes. We are not perfect. We get the chance to repair.

You are not Dollarama!

I am a Community Worker at The Dale Ministries in Parkdale. In order to do this work, I must fundraise my entire salary! It is only possible through generous financial gifts from people like you that I can spend time with this community that I love. I invite you to consider giving, by visiting thedale.org/donate and indicating that your gift it for me. Thank you!

The Sounds of a Monday.

My phone dinged at 8:58. “Getting in the car! Be there soon!” The sound of a message coming through from my friend and co-worker, Olivia. She was on her way to pick me up so we could head to work together. As we drove, sounds of chatter filled the air of the car. We had not seen each other in a few days, so there was catching up to do.

We entered the office, our feet echoing off the floor and walls of the empty building so early in the morning. Settling into the office as a staff, we started check in – this is how we begin each week. There was laughter, hmmm and ahhhs as we heard about each others week. The week had been heavy for each of us in our own ways. The vibrations of our phones could be heard against the desks… community members calling to check in or tell us something. This is not unusual for a Monday morning. We move to put them all on silent, as we pause to pray before the day gets going. Silence then and deep breaths. We take a few seconds before we pray in succession. Sniffles, tears, laughter, and amen. We begin the day.

The sounds become louder then. We enter the kitchen where we prepare our meals to hand out for lunch. The oven fan is always the loudest, as the fan pushing hot air work hard to heat our food. Theres grinding of beans being broken down for coffee. Plastic bags being opened, their rustling filling the room. This all takes time, each of us doing our own jobs. Closer to 11, I can hear washing and chopping. Joanna and Olivia are preparing a pasta salad for the vegetarian folks in line. We talk as we go, more checking in and laughter. We use this time to talk about a TV show we want the other to watch, music we’ve heard that we are recommending, a funny thing that happened in our family lives, or how community members are doing. It feels familiar, like family, these sounds I hear. They are similar each week and I have come to find comfort in that.

We serve lunch to-go outside at 1pm under the archway outside the church on Cowan Ave. Even though we have moved outside where the sounds are louder, there is familiarity here too. Cars slowly drive by, watching us on their way and wondering what the line is for surely. A mystery man who works at a bakery honks at us as he parks in front of the church – a signal that we can open his back door and get a bag of leftover bread he donates to us. There are hello’s too as we greet people in line while we bring the food out. “Here, give me that table,” Steven offers to me, even though his aged hands are shaking. I accept his help even though I can carry the table because it is important to allow people to show their love by giving their time and effort. “Mama Meagan!” shouts Sue. She always has something to tell us. We hustle to get ready, making sure people aren’t waiting much longer in the mid-November chill of the day. Feet shuffle, the creaking cart squeals under the weight of the food, and our breathe becomes heavier with this physical work. It is nice to chat with people in line and see how their weeks went. People are often the same as they always are, leaving us with the same expressions. Our friend Bill does the sign of the cross up to the Heavens towards the church and leaves with the expression, “Thank you! Bless you. Every day’s a holiday.” Hearing his optimism helps me with mine.

Sometimes the sounds of the day become muffled week after week. We are busy, especially in this end of year season, and it is easy for the sounds to become muted or ignored as we rush around. But it was a joy this day to pay attention and listen, not just hear. I love these sounds that have becomes signals of family, safety, and love. I appreciate our routine. I find peace in the chatter. I like the familiar. I am grateful for this community and all the noise it holds. It is love to me.


I am a community worker at The Dale Ministries in Parkdale, and I love using this blog to share our weeks and my work with you. My entire salary has to be fundraised in order to continue to work here. If you would like to participate by supporting me financially, please visit thedale.org/donate and indicate that your gift is for me. Thank you for being part of this journey.

A Little Hello from Above.

One beautiful thing about working in Parkdale is the sense of tight community. I think Parkdale feels like this in general, and working at the dale has made it even more true for me. Participating in community meals, walking outside for outreach, connecting with so many different people – we start to see and know each other. As a staff, we love walking to the store, walking to get our van, walking to the coffee shop or library… because we see a good handful of people each time and those little connections where there’s no “stuff” given or received or no expectations are the best kinds of little hellos.

On Tuesday, Joanna and I walked through the Parkette to get our van from its parking garage. We were chatting away and in my mind I was thinking of a friend, Samantha. She lives in the building we were passing by, along with a large handful of other community members. It’s hard for her with her aches and pains to get out sometimes, so we don’t see her as much as we used to. I was missing her, and wondering how she was.

Suddenly, I heard a loud yell from above. “Hi, Meagannnnnn!” I looked up to the apartment towering above us and saw Samantha from her 8th floor balcony. She was waving and smiling. “I was JUST thinking about you!” I yelled in return, blowing a kiss up to her. “I love you!” I yelled, not caring how loud I was or who was watching. We had to get going so the exchange was quick, happening all in the span of 5 seconds. “I love you too!” She yelled, blowing me an air kiss back.

And that was it. A little hello. A showing of love. Comfortability. An answer to my prayer that Samantha was okay. Connection. Community. Knowing. Familiar. Family.

I love my work at the Dale. I love relationship building, praying for each other, walking around and knowing people. Each person in their own spot, sitting or panning, each with their own personality. We can walk by and wave, chat, cry, pray, smile, sing, dance, pet dogs and cats, worry, be assured, and so much more. I love the familiar.

I hope you have a pleasant little hello today… they’re the best.

——

My job with The Dale requires that I fundraise my entire salary! If you would like to support me in my work, visit thedale.org/donate and indicate that your gift is for me. Thank you for your prayers for my work, community, and family. Your support of these ministries is a blessing.

Finding Common Ground.

Often, as children especially, we make friends though doing the same things. Whether that be school, sports, church, or musical groups – the common ground is in place before you meet, so you have something to talk about as the friendship grows. Through my time here at The Dale, I have come to learn that building friendships with a community that is so diverse takes time and patience. Sometimes, it is harder to find a common ground. You may have come from different neighbourhoods, different backgrounds or family lives, different experiences of home, church, race, gender, age etc. In that case, what do you talk about?

Not knowing what to say can be scary. I know this to be true from my own experience. I have also learned that silence can be golden. Holding space to be present with each other is important, without always having to fill the air with words. Sharing a meal can help bring that common ground, which is why I do miss eating around a table together at The Dale (hopefully one day soon we can share this experience again!). But time and patience is key. Sometimes, it starts with small talk. The weather… sports… Parkdale life. Then asking questions. Trust is built. I offer information about myself. They do the same. Sometimes I offer my name and no name is offered in return. One step back. Soon, they tell me their name. I think when I first entered into this kind of work, I was very intimidated and shy. I thought, “What do I talk to These People about?” These People. That’s the wall right there.

I am these people. You are these people. Common theme? People. WE are people. There is no us and them. So even though talking to a community that has experienced houselessness and poverty and addiction can seem intimidating at first as I thought, there is still common ground. You may be addicted too, to your phone, food, or money. You might have experienced trauma, loss, grief, sadness. You may have lost something important to you such as an apartment or job. We all have things in life that we go through, just differently. Once I learned this, I realized we have a lot more in common than I thought. And this is a beautiful thing, because it allows for the giving and receiving that we talk about at The Dale. I have been prayed for, cared for, asked how I am doing and loved on more than I can count.

There is a community member here at The Dale who I don’t know too well. I know his name, and we say hi to each other in the line or on outreach. We talk about the weather. But recently I started cycling to and from work – a habit that keeps my mind and body happy. And this guy? He cycles too. Everywhere! So now we talk about bikes and riding and bike lanes and gear. He offers me tips and advice. I am grateful because as a beginner, I need all the help I can get!

Finding common ground is not as hard as I thought it was. Sometimes, with some people, it just may take a little longer. A little time, a little trust. With some people, as I have experienced, it is fast and easy. This is community. It is not always as you would expect. Sometimes, it’s hard. Sometimes, it’s not. Just like lots of other friendships we make in life, where the common ground is there before we are. I am thankful that God maybe feels like this with us too – sometimes we come to Him easily, sometimes not. But He is there always, waiting for the common ground. I think that is Love.

Peace.


I am a Community Worker at The Dale Ministries in Parkdale, Toronto. In order to do this work that I love to tell you about, I need to fundraise for my entire salary. That means asking people like you to partner with my financially and support my work here. If you are able to give, please consider visiting thedale.org/donate and indicating online that your donation is for me!

Peace Filled Eyes.

A couple of weeks ago, Ian and I went on vacation to British Columbia. We went back to Salt Spring Island, a little island off of Victoria, where we honeymooned nearly five years ago. Charlotte stayed back here with my mom and had some quality grandma time… for that we are so thankful. It was peaceful to wake up every morning, look at the ocean, watch the sunrise and take in the beauty of the mountains. I found myself taking lots of pictures… of the sky, the mountains, the flowers and trees, the ocean – everything. We went on hikes, drove around the island, ate great food, and took time to slow down and breathe. I found myself feeling more at peace, relaxed, and able to be present in the moment. It felt like time stopped when I sat on the deck to watch the sun rise.

View from the deck!

One morning while we were there watching the sun rise, I prayed and asked God to help me to keep this feeling upon returning home. This feeling of peace and security, of being present and not just looking but really seeing what was in front of me. I have thought about that prayer a lot, and I know that God has been testing me.

I love living in the city, but there are many distractions. Advertisements for this and that, the internet, work, parenthood, social media. Some of these things are so beautiful – like parenthood. And some of these things can be so bombarding – like social media. I have already succumbed to being distracted, spending too much time on my phone, being busy, and looking but not seeing. I try and capture the beauty of things… Charlotte’s smile, a flower, the sun. But I have a hard time slowing down, and being in the moment. I look and think, “How nice…” and then the next thing to do pops into my mind.

I know this is a part of life, and maybe until I am retired I won’t have the pleasure of sitting and looking at the sky and mountains for hours. But maybe that’s not what I was hoping for when I prayed that prayer back on the island. Maybe I wasn’t hoping for a life without distraction and worry… I think that is impossible. I think I was hoping for an inner feeling of peace and presence that comes from God. I know when I look at the mountains and sky that God created those things and maybe some of that is what brings me a feeling of peace. But I want to feel that when I am in traffic, when I’m looking at a grey sky, when I eat a delicious bite of food, when I hug Charlotte and sing to her, when I am at work… In all things.

This can take a lot of practice. I can’t just switch on “peace” and feel great about everything. But I can practice, ask God for help, and choose to look at things with peace filled eyes. I know practice makes progress. I have trusted this progress through my work at The Dale. Five years ago, it was all new. I had a hard time being in the moment, not worrying about the future, and seeing the beauty of it all. Now with time, patience, experience, and help, I can see that there is beauty here and love and joy and hardship and pain and that it all goes together – hand in hand.

I pray today that through practice I can see the beauty in life’s everyday, simple mundane moments. And I pray that for you too. May you see things today with peace filled eyes. We all need a little practice!


I am a community worker at The Dale Ministries in Parkdale, Toronto. In order to do this work, I must fundraise my entire salary. If you enjoy these blogs and hearing about life here at The Dale, my pondering, and what I am learning I hope that you would consider becoming a financial supporter so that I can continue to do this work. Please visit https://www.thedale.org/donate/ ! Thank you!

The Art of Giving.

One thing that we make sure is known and valued here at The Dale, and which I have talked about a lot before, is the idea of giving and receiving. We all have something of value to offer, no matter who we are. It could be prayer, our presence, money, help with the dishes, flowers, a painting, and so much more. I have been given so much in my time here at The Dale. One thing that I have received in abundance is encouragement, especially from my friend Kim.

Kim and I are into a lot of the same things. Gardening, nature, art, crafts, making something with our hands, and having little gatherings with our closest friends. You might remember me writing last fall about an outdoor art group that I facilitated – Kim participated that day and was so encouraging to me. She encouraged me beforehand when the original group was cancelled due to rain. And she lifted me up after the art group finally happened as well by telling me how proud she was of me (she knows facilitating a group makes me anxious).

To my delight, this Spring Kim came to me and asked if we could have another art group in the summer. We chatted about our ideas, looked through Pinterest together for crafting inspiration, came up with a location and a list of supplies we needed, and invited our friends. I know that Kim loves art and I know that she loves me. Which is why she encouraged me to do another art group and sat with me to talk it through and came that day to participate and told me how fun it was. I know she wanted to encourage me to do a hard thing and know that I could follow through. Kim is a great friend in that way.

Our art day this summer was so fun. Kim and I decided we would paint terracotta pots and plant seeds in them. We would have a small group gather in a community garden here at the church and paint together in the shade. When the day came for the group to gather, it was so hot. We found a little spot of shade in the garden and painted together for an hour in the afternoon. It was just four ladies together doing art, but it meant the world to me. I loved it, and I loved that Kim encouraged it to happen. It wouldn’t have happened without her.

Thank you, Kim, for the way you love and encourage. Your gift is the way you see the good in people and help them to see their ideas through. You’re a big dreamer. And all of those things are a gift to me too. I am grateful for our friendship and our art groups!

I hope you all have a friend like Kim. With Peace,

Meg 🙂


I am a community worker at the Dale Ministries in Parkdale! You can learn more about how to support my work financially at thedale.org !

Just Being Invited

The village of Parkdale is also known as Little Tibet. In fact, Parkdale has the highest concentration of Tibetans outside of Asia! Walking down Queen Street, you’ll find lots of folks in their traditional Tibetan clothing, monks in robes, and store after store selling Momos (Tibetan dumplings). His Holiness, the Dalai Lama, is an important political and religious figure in Tibet. Last month was his birthday which is a huge day of celebration in Parkdale. There are celebrations around every corner, dancing, free momos, and much more.

The Dale staff team was invited to participate in a birthday celebration for the Dalai Lama! At the church where our Covid HQ has been are a number of community organizations who also work in this building in different offices and kitchens. A number of those folks are Tibetan, and so they invited us to eat with them and partake in the celebration. We gathered outside in the parking lot with a tent and so much food. There was a picture of the Dalai Lama and a birthday cake. The MPP for Parkdale/High Park was there as well!

The hour was filled with emotional speeches, pictures, chats, and lots of food. We were served traditional tea and rice, and had a large plate of delicious food. We were invited to take a white scarf that was provided and wrap it around the picture of the Dalai Lama as we silently wished him well. We were told to fill our plates again and again. The generosity was astounding. Our friend cried tears of joy at how special this day was for her as a Tibetan, and how happy she was that we could be together to eat and celebrate.

To be honest, I was uncomfortable. I didn’t know what to say or where to put the scarf when I was invited to wish the Dalai Lama well for his birthday (although I was certainly not forced to do this, and chose to participate!). I didn’t know what some of the food was or what it would taste like. I didn’t know how to feel or talk to the MPP, as she was only the second MPP I had met before! I didn’t know how to express the gratitude I had.

I think most of all I was uncomfortable because I felt so included and taken care of as a guest for this celebration. We were invited into something – a celebration, a tradition, a feast, a gathering. We were served and cared for. We were fed. We were thanked for being there, even though we had done nothing but be present. We were just invited, and we chose to accept.

This is such an important part of life at The Dale, and a lesson I am grateful to relearn again and again. It can be easy to fall into the role of caregiver in this field – hospital visits and prayers, carrying supplies during outreach, signing papers and making phone calls, preparing meals day after day. However we always say at The Dale that we are a community that gives, yes. But we also must receive. We must receive coffee that someone bought with the last of their change. We must receive prayers over our family. We must receive being served during drop in by another community member. We must receive an invitation to be present, to participate, to eat and give thanks, and the tears that come with it.

Giving and receiving is an important part of this work. It is not “us” and “them”. It is “US” together. We. Family. Community. Partners. Friends. The joy and sorrow, the heavy and light, the good and bad. We are in it together. Whether we are serving or being served, there is hope and love to be found in learning how to be together well.

I am so grateful to just be invited.

I am a community worker at The Dale Ministries in Parkdale! In order to do this work I must fundraise for my entire salary. I am inviting you into this community as well to participate in a prayerful and financial way. If you would like to support my work in this community, please visit https://www.canadahelps.org/en/charities/the-dale-ministries/ and indicate that your gift is for my salary. Thank you!

The Giving Garden

We have a plot in a community garden across the street from where our Pandemic headquarters have been the past couple of years. We’ve actually had this plot longer than the past couple of years but definitely have become more attached and attentive to it during the Pandemic when we needed something to care for and a peaceful place to go.

I love when it’s my turn to water the garden. We have a schedule but I often offer to water on days that aren’t my own, or go with whoever is watering to check in on how our little garden is doing. Most often I water upon my arrival at work, before 9:30am when the air is still cool and I need some relief from the stress of taking the bus to work.

Today, however, I only had time to water before I left for the day. I found two of our community members eating lunch together at a picnic table in the garden and laughing together. I waved at them, and them at me and proceeded to fill a watering can from the rain barrel. I don’t know these women too well yet so I didn’t want to disturb their lunch and laughter too much.

Suddenly one of them was at my shoulder offering me a bag with a few tomato plants inside. She said that it had been given to her but she had too many and wanted me to put it in our garden. I thanked her and took them out of the bag, planting them in the only little spot left that we had room.

Upon watering and inspecting I found some mature green snap peas hanging from four of our plants. I plucked them off, a small offering, and put them on the table where the women were eating. “For you!” I said and they thanked me abundantly asking if I was sure.

I went back to fill the can again and I heard the woman laughing and giggling. I looked over and one of them stood up with a small container containing a slice of cake. She smiled as she handed it to me and said, “For you!”

We all laughed at this game we were playing of back and forth and as I finished watering, I grabbed a few more peas and placed them on their table, laughing with them about the gossip they were sharing even though I had no idea what it was about.

I was pleased to see them so happy, and to foster a connection with these women in a new way. I’ve only ever seen them in our line for to go food where the chance to stop and connect is there, but smaller and shorter than it used to be when we sat and ate together. I was grateful for this giving garden. It gives me joy and peace, produce and a place to take care. It gives me friendships, new plants, cake, and laughter.

We share the food that comes out of it, the opportunity to water it, the land of it with our friends, and much more. This giving garden has given much indeed, and I am so thankful.

Buying plants for our garden

I am a community worker at The Dale Ministries, a community organization in Parkdale. In order to do this work I must fundraise for my entire salary. If you would like to support my work, please leave a comment below and I will get in touch!

At Least It Was Moving

Last week after our church service on Sunday, I walked as I always do to the bus at Queen St. West and Dufferin. It was a Sunday afternoon which meant service was moving along slowly (slower than usual). I was quite annoyed having just missed a bus as I was walking up to the stop and it was evident things were not moving quickly. As I stood there waiting for the next bus, more and more people came to the stop. I knew it would not be a pleasant ride home.

After about 15 minutes, a Dale community member who was at church caught up to me. I was looking at my phone, not really wanting to interact with anyone. I was hot, annoyed, and feeling impatient. I just wanted to get back to my family waiting at home. He greeted me and stood beside me, waiting for the bus as well. He quietly took out his scissors and paper to make cut out shapes, a coping mechanism that he is well known for. I continued to look at my phone when he asked me if I wanted a candle. I said sure and put my phone down as he proceeded to cut a candle out of spare paper for me. He then asked if I wanted a heart in the middle of it and I said yes. A few minutes later I was given this beautiful piece of art and I added it to the growing collection I have with my belongings.

Candle with a heart.

This person often gifts paper crafts. He gave Ian and I an abundance of paper tulips for our wedding decor. He cut out hearts for Charlotte at Valentines Day and they are up in her room. I have another heart ring in my wallet. And now a candle in my backpack. He is also known to make rabbits at Easter and reindeer at Christmas. Sometimes on the subway I find little pieces of paper that I know he has been cutting in his travels. A city wide treasure hunt if you will.

Finally the bus came and my friend and I got a little separated. I was still feeling bothered, being squished on the bus. Especially so when it turned when it shouldn’t have and I realized we were on a detour. My friend travels everywhere and anywhere all day long, often walking or taking transit. He did not seemed phased by the delays or detours, finding someone else on the bus to chat with who he was sitting closer to.

We eventually made it to Dufferin Station, where I knew we would both be getting off. My friend had said earlier he was making his way to Dufferin Station to look around for beer cans. There is a beer store close by where you can return them for money. We found each other off the bus and before walking downstairs, he said goodbye to me. His parting words being, “Hey! At least it was moving!” – meaning the bus.

I was taken aback by his comment, only able to smile and say goodbye. This whole time I had been annoyed and frustrated, bothered by the slow pace at which I was moving towards home. Meanwhile my friend could look on the bright side, happy with the movement of the bus. Like my friend, the bus was moving, albeit slower with nowhere to go anywhere quickly. But it was moving, keeping on and doing it’s thing.

My friend taught me about resilience and patience in that simple moment. Not only did he wait patiently, he also gave me a beautiful gift of his art, chatted on the bus, made sure I wasn’t alone, and encouraged me on my way off. I am grateful for the peace that he presented to me when I was not feeling it, and grateful that I was able to receive it. Sometimes all it takes is a recognition of forward movement, no matter how slow, to make one appreciate things. Thank you, friend.


I am a community worker at The Dale Ministries. I am so glad you come by here to read my blogs and join in on this journey with me. I must fundraise my entire salary in order to be able to do this work. If you would like to support me, please visit this link: https://www.canadahelps.org/en/charities/the-dale-ministries/ and indicate that your gift is for me. Thank you!

The Forgiveness Table.

A couple of Sunday’s ago, Ian was driving me to work for my shift collecting our weekly meals from Second Harvest. We were early, and we were also having a disagreement. We got to the church and Ian pulled over on Cowan Avenue and we tried to talk it out but it wasn’t going anywhere. We couldn’t even agree to disagree. With this in mind, after about 20 minutes of talking, I just decided to say goodbye and go into work. It was not the best farewell.

I was walking up the driveway to the church entrance when I saw a table discarded on the driveway. I had seen it before being used by one of our partner organizations and loved it. I was even keeping my eye out for one similar (if you know me, you know I love finding free stuff on the side of the road or on Facebook Marketplace!). This table was now broken, and the leg was nowhere in plain sight although I did eventually find it in a planter near the door. I stood for a couple of minutes beside the table looking at it, wondering if I should put my name on it and take it home later. I was about to just forget it, thinking I had no way to get it home, when I looked up and saw Ian was still sitting in the car looking at me, waiting to make sure I was okay. I was expecting that he would have driven away quickly after our departure, but there he was at the end of the long driveway.

I picked up the table and started walking back to the car. Ian got out, and silently started moving the seats around to fit the table in. I ran back for the leg, put it in the trunk, and he closed up the back. I looked at him, he at me, and we hugged each other both saying sorry. “You drive me nuts, but I love ya.” – something we tell each other often, covered in deep love. This garbage broken table brought us together in an unexpected way, and is slowly being fixed and repainted in my backyard.

Forgiveness is something I struggle with sometimes. It is hard for me to admit I am wrong, and it is hard for me to know someone may think I had bad intentions. Being married to Ian and working at The Dale have been the biggest lessons in unconditional love and forgiveness I have been witness to and been the recipient of.

There are many times I have seen community members come together with a handshake when I thought their friendships were over. There have been times I have been stopped on the street by a community member and forgiven for things I have done. There have been times that Ian has forgiven me when he could have held onto anger. I am trying to lean into these hard lessons, and remember that the grace I receive from my community and my family is not perfect, but it is important. And the grace I receive from God covers all things, all of my imperfections, and all of the lessons I have yet to learn. I am so grateful.

Sometimes, it takes a handshake to come together. Sometimes an offer to go to a movie together. Sometimes saying “I’m sorry.” And sometimes it takes a table destined for the trash – but God’s love is funny that way. He saved our brokenness and I know he uses these things to teach us some lessons too.

With peace.

Meg


I am a community member at The Dale Ministries in Parkdale. In order to do this work and share these stories with you, I must fundraise for my entire salary. That means asking people like you to support me financially in this work! Please consider giving at https://www.thedale.org/donate/ and indicate that the donation is for me. Thank you!