Musings of a Modern Mennomystic

 The Stark Reality of Prairie Trees Scraggly sticks stuck in stubbled soil, a sad giant’s poor playthings. Stunted stems in rows and ringing homesteads, a human endeavour to stave off sweeping winds. Scrawny clutching claws outstretched, a striving to grasp into endless expanse. Dwarfed are these otherwise towering trees by sheer infinity of space between earth and ether. Denuded stark gnarled limbs drawn against such bounteous backdrop of blue. Diminished, with no hope inspiring awe in themselves, instead, by association granting glory to the prairie skies.

  The Nature of Death and Life – Contemplating on the Prairies Most of my life has been spent on the Prairies of Southern Manitoba, save for a few months up North. It is from this place that I sit and think prayerfully about life, my lived reality through God in whom I live, and move and have my being. I literally walk this Contemplative path in this environment. Being on this Contemplative journey leads me to new ways of thinking and living in relationship with the rest of the world. This path is not straight, nor easy. The journey has been a painful process of dying small deaths. And it’s only now, as I look back along the trail that I see all the resurrections. I’ve observed the Prairie soil, not as a farmer or soil scientist, maybe as a gardener, although a very poor one, but more so as a Contemplative. By being a part of the Prairies for decades and learning a bit about how they were formed and knowing a bit about plants I began to ponder over the nature of creation. Knowi...