Monthly Archives: December 2012

part-time hermit

its 3:19am on sunday morning.  im up too late again.  the white dusting on the roads outside my window is just the beginning of a large winter storm coming my way.  its supposed to bury the city under a big blanket of snow.  im hibernating if it does.

thats a promise.

i think im already becoming a part-time hermit.  my fingers have been feeling itchier than usual lately to write and my eyes cant seem to feel the holes behind them when it comes to reading.  i get glimpses of the reasons why men and women of old would shut themselves in from the rest of the world to be alone with their thoughts; to ponder endlessly the possibilities, acceptabilities and unknown philosophical realities dancing around in their minds.

a few years back i flirted with the idea of shutting myself up in a monastery for a time and a bit.  i thought then that my soul needed some serious alone time.  i still think it does.  i chickened out and didnt follow through.  as much as the thought of going deeper excites me, it also frightens me.  ‘it’s an interesting combination: having a great fear of being alone, and having a desperate need for solitude and the solitary experience. that’s always been a tug of war for me.’

i totally internet-mined that quote.

whatever.  thats what google is there for, right?

i didnt mine the next quote, though:

‘sometimes gratitude – of an intense magnitude – can only be discovered in solitude.’

i have no idea who wrote that but it replays in my mind from time to time.  when i look around at all the blessings in my life – the roof over my head, the food in my fridge, the clean, drinkable water from my tap, the electricity that turns on my lights and warms my apartment, etc – im very thankful to Him who has blessed me, but at the same time i am cut to my heart of hearts because i know that the distractions and noises of my world keep me from the deeper, more real gratitude.

i take so much for granted.  even the air i breathe is a gift that i all too often forget to be thankful for.

large sigh..

mining for another quote lead me to this:

‘it is in deep solitude that i find the gentleness with which i can truly love my brothers. the more solitary i am the more affection i have for them…. solitude and silence teach me to love my brothers for what they are, not for what they say.’

if thomas mertons words are true, this storm may be just what i need to recharge.

i cant afford to take the time away to stay in a monastery any more but i can hole myself up in my basement apartment for a time and a bit.  who knows what could happen..

details to follow.



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christmas day

i think christmas flew by faster this year than any year previous.  im finally starting to see and believe what all those grown ups told me as i was growing up – ‘better enjoy your younger years because they will fly by when you are older’.  i always scoffed at those would-be fortune tellers, only to now see the value in their words.

time does fly by much faster now.

regardless of how fast it went, the memories wont so quickly to vanish with the season.  this christmas was one of the most memorable ones for me.

heres why:

a few weeks before christmas i began asking some of the guys i know on the street what they would be doing for the holidays.  some were heading out-of-town to see family, while others had no plans of even celebrating.  christmas is a rough time for a lot of people.  for the guys i know on the streets its usually very rough.  depression, extra anxieties, suicidal feelings are par for the course. the past has a way of doing some extra haunting around the christmas season.

the wonderful part about living by myself in my humble basement apartment is that i no longer have to ask any roommates if they mind when i invite guys in.  i had roommates in the past who were ‘ok’ with having them in, though they usually disappeared behind their locked bedroom doors, but most were not as inviting.

ignorance is a heck of a thing.

so with no roommates to ask about having a christmas party, invites were liberally thrown out to many of the guys i share every day life with on the street.

craig told me he would come.  craig is as old as my dad but about half the size (my dad is a big man).  he was born with very bad hearing and eyesight.  when you talk to craig you have to speak fairly loud so he can understand you.  you have to struggle equally as hard to understand what he is saying.  while communicating with craig is challenging, when you do have a chance to talk with him you begin to see a kind, intelligent, and thoughtful man who lives a very lonely life.

i picked craig up at the bus stop around the corner and we walked back to my place.  he moved pretty slow as his cane jumped along the pavement in front of us.  i walked on an angle, leaning his way so i can hear what hes saying and speak back into his ‘good’ ear.  he tells me in the 44 years he has spent in halifax no one has ever invited him over for christmas.

44 years without friend or family to celebrate christmas with is a downright sin.

ryan, glen and dave – three of our street soccer players – come over as well.  ryan brings with him some finger foods to pop in the oven.  they’re gone as soon as they hit the coffee table.  he is happy with his contribution, as he should be.  he tells me about the donations he was able to get for some great organizations in the city.  his smile beams as he tells of his selfless accomplishment.  im proud of him like a big brother is of his younger sibling.

we hug it out.

dave grabs the guitar and begins to serenade the group.  he mixes his stories in with the lyrics as he usually does.  dave always has more stories to tell.
glen brings in some chips he was able to buy with some money he received from pan handling.  he gives me a bag full of things he bought kat and i for christmas.  shampoo for kat, socks and gloves for me.

presents are always nice to get on christmas, but these gifts mean more than all of the others.  thinking about glen sitting there on the side of the road pan handling for our christmas gifts chokes me up.  im starting to really understand why Jesus hung out with the homeless so much during His days on earth.

a couple more people join us.  finger foods, christmas cookies and glasses of punch litter the coffee table in my living room.  conversation is lively and uplifting.  everyone seems to have left their cares somewhere else, if only for the afternoon.  moses, my cat, makes his rounds around the room to get his attention and try nibbling off peoples plates.

i sit back in my chair and take it all in.  a big smile comes to my face.  im surrounded by friends and people i love and who love me.

im blessed beyond measure this christmas.

happy birthday, Jesus and thanks for the blessing of friendship, both with You and with my friends on the street.


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not just a native issue

some people woke up early on saturday morning because they didnt want to waste their last day on earth.  december 21st, 2012 finally arrived.  while i cant say i shared the same mind-set as those doomsdayers, i hit the alarm button on my phone earlier than normal saturday morning.  we didnt want to be left without a good seat.  a press conference for the idle no more campaign/movement was being held in downtown halifax, at the same time hundreds of other demonstrations were being staged across the country.  it seems the latest political maneuvering by the harper government has awoken a sleeping giant.

a bit of background:

bill c-45 is a giant 400-page omnibus bill that has been forced into law by the conservative government of canada.  while the canadian public was told the bill was specifically a budget bill, it became clear that the harper government’s bill was even more keen on repealing legislation, changing laws, ‘handling’ first nations issues and repealing environmental acts.  despite hundreds of amendments introduced by opposition parties, the bill passed untouched.

so much for democracy.

the gutting of the protections offered by the navigable waters protection act is a pretty serious change.  hundreds of thousands of lakes and tens of thousands of rivers are now no longer protected federally. 97 lakes and 62 rivers will be covered by the new act — less than one percent of canada’s waterways. here in nova scotia, 3 lakes remain protected.  in a province that has more than 5400 lakes, that is quite alarming, to say the least.

first nations land, once under the authority of first nations governments (and rightly so!), has also come under threat with the introduction of bill c-45.  the bill gives the government a significant amount of control over first nations reserve land.  this means that when the government wants to send pipelines through first nations territory (see  enbridge’s proposed Northern Gateway pipeline) they would have little trouble doing so.

corporate profits before people.  where have we heard this before?

what may be most alarming about this bill is the unconstitutional nature of it and its blatant disregard for articles in the united nations declaration on the rights of indigenous peoples. a statement found on the website:

‘the unilateral imposition of these bills is in direct violation of the treaties and the treaty relationship that the original peoples of turtle island made with the british crown. indigenous peoples and nations have not been consulted and therefore, the actions taken by the federal government does not reflect the international standard of free prior and informed consent.’

these actions by the harper government are illegal.

in the un declaration on rights of indigenous peoples, article 18 states:

Indigenous peoples have the right to participate in decision-making in matters which would affect their rights, through representatives chosen by themselves in accordance with their own procedures, as well as to maintain and develop their own indigenous decision- making institutions.

the canadian government is once again showing the world that it has little regard for what the international community has laid out as appropriate treatment and behavior towards its indigenous populations.

as a proud mi’kmaw man, i stand shoulder to shoulder with the idle no more movement and refuse to allow this present government to continue their deplorable actions against my people and my beautiful country.

its on, harper.

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hugs and cabbage casserole

the guys were outside smoking as usual as i approached the side door of the cottage.  it was snowing a bit and the walkway was slippery under my running shoes.  today was officially a boots day but i didnt plan it that way.  dont you hate when nature doesnt consult you first?  i do and so do my soggy socks.

without fail, every day i show up at the cottage we hug.  big manly hugs.  we call each other brothers and slap each other on the back.  its pretty rad.  i love the guys i work with and am blessed to serve alongside them.

after the manly hugs and back slaps have been had, coffee is poured, soup is tasted and conversation flows from one topic to the next.  today breakfast was quiet.  only 59 people came in to dine.

only 59.

some times i have to catch myself.  its easy for my mind to think strictly in numbers.  high and low numbers create a barometer of sorts.  the number on our counter becomes another number i plug into the invisible barometer.

but people arent numbers, the voice inside my head screams.

i swear im not crazy yet.

59 human beings in my city, who cant afford to feed themselves, came in to dine tonight.  59 low-income, poor men and women came in to share a meal together. 59 people of black, white, yellow and brown skin, many with some sort of disability (mental and physical), came in to eat our cabbage casserole.

i know what you’re thinking: ‘what kind of grubby ass food you serving down there?’

when someone told me cabbage casserole i, too, had a similar reaction, but let me tell you: the church ladies from a local church can whip up a mean casserole!  i didnt think cabbage could taste so good before today.

volunteers were sparse so i was main course server.  usually we get the volunteers to serve the food at the kitchen window, and we do the rest.  but not tonight.  tonight i scooped cabbage casserole and doled out cupcakes and mini cinnamon buns.

i was mr popular.

i got to talk with everyone that came in, if only for a brief 15 seconds.  112 people dined tonight.  im too tired to do the math on that properly but im pretty sure thats 27 minutes or so of hello’s and enjoy your meal.

i really enjoyed it.

i bet you would too.  try it out.  find a local soup kitchen in your city and volunteer this holiday season.

you wont regret it.

i promise.


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trying to understand

it hurt my heart a great deal when i heard the details of the latest school shooting.  to think about such evil being committed against innocent, young lives makes me scared of a world my younger siblings, cousins, nieces, and nephews will grow up in.  i want a safe society for them to live in, not one in which there are horrendous acts like this one committed.

i pray and will continue to pray for the families and all those involved.  may healing come upon your homes.

i have a problem with the way the conversations have been phrased after this latest mass shooting in the united states.  i suppose the media is to blame for some of this but i think theres a collective responsibility as well.  with all respect to the victims, both those who lost their lives and the ones left behind, i think theres something a bit off-putting about this story and its not for all the immediately apparent reasons.

is gun reform the biggest issue here, as the media claims it is?

quick fact: it is easier for americans to access guns than mental health services.

it bothers me that the conversation is being had almost exclusively around gun laws and no one seems to be saying much about mental illness.  yes, guns were used to take innocent lives.  yes, if there had been better safeguards in place then this might not have happened.  yes, we need to look at gun laws and reform the necessary parts to protect all of us, but it was a broken human being who used those guns to kill.

broken mentally.

that this young man had a large problem with his mind is so apparent and obvious that it feels redundant to say anything about it, and yet its being placed in a secondary column of interest and concern.

that scares me.

it scares me that our society can be so blind and dumb towards the ugly reality of mental illness all around us.  we are a collective of ostriches hiding our heads in the comforting sand, all the while the proverbial bombs tick down above the surface.

if this isnt a deafening wake up call to us what will it take?

7.1 percent of the american populace accessed mental health services in 2012.  its estimated though that 26.2 percent of americans suffer from a diagnosable mental disorder.  this number is most definitely higher when considering stigmatization of mental disorders and the lack of appropriate mental health services.  nearly 20 percent cant (too expensive) or wont (stigma) access mental health services.  here in halifax, nova scotia, less than 4% of the health budget is directed towards mental health.

what does that tell us about mental health? does it tell us that it is not a problem?

tell that to most of the people i work with on the streets.  of the hundreds of people ive met and/or worked with at street level, maybe a couple of them didnt deal with mental illness.

or try telling that to the almost 1 in 10 of canadians who deal with major depression.

lets ask the canadian mental health association.  heres a few things from their website:

Mental illness indirectly affects all Canadians at some time through a family member, friend or colleague.
20% (1 in 5) of Canadians will personally experience a mental illness in their lifetime.
Mental illness affects people of all ages, educational and income levels, and cultures.
About 1% of Canadians will experience bipolar disorder (or “manic depression”).

im not going to bother mentioning the percentage of mentally ill people occupying our prisons.  a quick google search will give you the staggering stats.

so it IS a big problem.. and its getting worse.

we cant expect things to get better when we keep ignoring the obvious warning signs and refuse to tackle the problem head on.  but with our heads firmly planted in the sand, the likely hood that things are going to get (much) worse before they get better is an unsettling reality.


the other thing that bothers me about this is the horrible contrast it shows between western people and other people of our world.

why is that the children in gaza dont get the tears of the world for the latest bombings in palestine?

why dont these children, who live on the wrong side of an apartheid state, gain even a fraction of the tears and prayers the western children get?  i dont want to get weighed down in quantifying senseless deaths against other senseless deaths but there seems to be a particular skew here.

what about the children who have died in pakistan and yemen by american drone attacks?

why dont these children (an estimated 178 of them) get us teary-eyed and mad at their murderers?  why dont we send each other mass facebook prayer letters and doctored pictures with kind and inspiring words for these children?

a car bomb goes off in damascus and 50 people are killed, some of which are innocent children.  the scene is gruesome.  more innocent lives lost to senseless violence.

do we blame the media for this?  surely, they must be most responsible because of their biased opinions, right?  we dont get to decide what news we consume, do we?

do we?

i realize at this point that this post probably wont get me too many fans.  ranting about mental illness is one thing but calling into question our collective moral integrity might be cutting a little too close to some people’s central nerve.

see, it wasnt just gun reform we need, nor mental health funding, nor learning to care more about other people you dont know.  we need a gut check and ask ourselves harder questions.

are all the people of our world weighed on the same scale?

if so, why doesnt it seem like that?  whether its mentally illness or foreign people dying/being killed, its the same story.

can we afford to lie to ourselves any longer?

no, they are not being valued/weighed the same.  some children/women/men are less valuable than others.  its plain as day, isnt it?!  our news media, facebooks, twitters, chats over coffee, supper talks with the family, etc, etc, ad nauseam(!) tell us it is.

there are ‘us’ and there are ‘them’.


whats happening to us?!  or, maybe its more apt to ask, what has happened to us?!

(long pause)

are we losing our humanity?

(another long pause)

(still pausing)

or are we just sick and need help?
maybe we need healing from our mental, emotional and spiritual wounds, and help understanding who we really are.

i hope help and healing come soon, because our world really needs it right now.

//end of long rant

RIP all  the children of the world who have died due to war, starvation, poverty, disease and everything else that steals a life too soon.  may your souls rest well in His kingdom.





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nothing like nothing

i had an interesting conversation the other night with an intelligent man who lives on the other side of the world.  well, 13 hours away.  close enough?  anyways, my new korean friend is back visiting family for the holidays and i happen to know his family.  its not too often i get to talk with someone on so many different interesting topics on several different levels.

its a good buzz.

im not even sure how we got started talking about existential things as it came out of left field.  i dont meet too many people who will launch out into deeper waters right away.  most take a considerable amount of time to exchange pleasantries and small talk.  my new korean friend wasted very little time questioning the very existence we both sat within.

ultimately, the course the conversation boiled down to one question: ‘whats it all about?’

life.  reality.  existence.

is there a meaning attached to this life of ours or are our lives without any real meaning?  is there purpose to any of this or are we random atoms formed together to live, eat, breath, sleep, die and become food for worms?

heavy stuff to wrestle with, right?

what about truth?

is there such a thing?

im speaking about the objective kind.  is there absolute truth?

the concept of truth has come up before in conversations with others, whether in philosophy courses at university or late night coffee talks.  those late night coffee talks are unpredictable!  ive spoken with my fair share of people who feel that there isnt such a thing as truth.  ‘everything is relative’ is what i have generally heard.

is it?

this raises (for me at least) a few questions..

are the meanings you place on some thing the same as the meanings i place on it? is the same thing you believe just as true as the thing i believe?  what if they contradict each other – still both true?  are both not true?

what if my truth says yours is a lie – are they both still true?

can math be relative?  could one person say 2+2 = 4 and another that 2+2=7?

what about history?  can world war 2 have been 6 years long and also 106?

i realize this is sounding a bit absurd but thats kind of what im getting at here.  truth must be objective for certain things to exist, like math and history, but also for other more important things like justice and love.  if nothing else the statement ‘everything is relative’ becomes true if all things are relative and then refutes itself.


if truth is just relative, then what about right and wrong ?  how do we figure out moral behavior?  if one person thinks something is right and another wrong, who is right?  the stronger person?  the more intelligent person?  what if there are two people who believe something is true but one doesnt – majority rules?  that would be a silly way to figure out what is true wouldnt it be?

i think so.

what about justice?

how can one have any justice  at all if truth is relative?  if truth doesnt really exist then who is to tell the criminal who stole your stuff that what he did was wrong?  he thinks he is liberating you from your stuff.  his defense is that hes your liberator.  seems reasonable enough, even if its not his true motive.  who decides?  what about the person who commits (insert really bad crime)?  who is to tell him that what he did was wrong if right and wrong doesnt really exist?

it seems that if truth isnt real, morality can take a large push off the deep end.

take a look at our western culture for one moment:

we are a violent collective.  we abuse everything.  we abuse our children, spouses, friends, selves and the environment, through verbal, physical, spiritual, emotional and psychological ways.  when we arent abusive on the domestic front we are abusive on the foreign front, waging war against other people, usually for reasons of dominance, power and  control.  most of our urban centers are plagued by drugs, crime and poverty (so much for loving ones neighbor).  we lie, cheat and steal, crawl over other peoples backs to the top of the ladder, scorn loyalty and trust, and generally do a bad job of being decent human beings.

if you think im being overdramatic i dare you to read the newspaper or watch the 6 o’clock news.

ok, now that you have done that and are in agreement with me, let me connect a couple of dots:

truth/morality is relative + violent western culture = our current reality

now im not saying that its this simple.  im also not saying that this is the whole picture.  there are certainly other factors involved.  what im trying to figure out in my own mind is how a society can look any different when the generally held belief is that ‘truth is relative.’

ignore for a second that the logical end to the denial of truth is nihilism, which is defined as nothingness; extreme skepticism of any real existence.  ignore for another couple of seconds that all the major philosophers of nihilism wrote how their own philosophy lead them to despair (main theme of nihilistic philosophers).  ignore for one more second that despair destroys lives.  just ask the 4 in 10 north americans who report dealing with a form of despair (eg. depression, anxiety).   thats not counting those who go undiagnosed or unreported because of stigma.  ask the roughly 150 million people what despair has done to their lives and loved ones.

i realize that this is a fairly pessimistic view of things.  i wish it wasnt.

so, what then?

whats the answer?


(to be continued)

ps. my apologies for all the rhetorical questions.  i got a bit carried away.


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the big OK

the ‘hope’ in hope cottage is fitting.

the area surrounding hope cottage houses a lot of people who live under the poverty line.  there are two men’s homeless shelters about 5 minute walk away.  theres a womens shelter four doors down and another one 10 minutes away.  several small and large public housing buildings dot the urban landscape.  the public row housing and duplex units are all around the cottage.

we have a policy that we only serve meals to adults.  any kids younger than 19 cant eat at the cottage.  when i asked eddie what that was, i was told it was to protect them.  there are known convicted child molesters living in the area who come to the cottage for food.  kids can get sandwiches to go but they cant stay and eat.  i understand why but its still something thats hard for me to swallow.  why should convicted child molesters get precedence over the kids in the community?  i guess if you dont know all the possible offenders then its better to air on the side of caution.

a lot of addicts come for breakfast and dinner daily.  alcohol, crack, opiates – most people fall into one or a couple of these addictions.  escaping reality and filling the addiction become the invisible shackles and chains.

invisible slavery.

im not using that word as a hyperbole either.  i mean literal slavery defined as ‘the condition of being subject or addicted to a specified influence.’

it kills me to see what some people will do to themselves and others to fill their addictions and appease their slave owners (drugs).  im sure you are no different.  most of us have had to deal with a friend or family member who had a destructive addiction.  theres a certain helplessness that comes from seeing them destroy themselves..

after talking with some other community stake holders, i came up with an idea.  its nothing original or mind-boggling but i think its some thing desperately needed in this community.  the idea is a grass-roots recovery program for addicts.  redeemed and recovered addicts helping current addicts gain the freedom they need to live their lives more abundantly and productively.

eddie, one of the main guys at hope cottage, is a recovered addict after spending a considerable amount of his life battling substance abuse.  after failed attempts at sobriety eddie explained to me that God came to his rescue.  the physical solutions couldnt fix what was a spiritual problem.

the same thing happened with my uncle, peter.  addictions, too, had plagued him and caused him to spiral out of control and make life decisions that were destructive.  God showed up to him in a powerful way and delivered him from his slavery to substance abuse as well.

both these men call the north end of halifax home and they both have a huge heart for the addicts in their community.

the director of the cottage just gave us the big OK to start a recovery group in the new year.  with the leading of God and behind the incredible testimonies of redemption from eddie and peter, i think this is going to be a powerful opportunity to see restorative justice done in our city.

all prayers and well wishes welcomed 🙂


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“I think insomnia is a sign that a person is interesting.”
― Avery Sawyer


i wonder if mr sawyer was trying to soothe his mind by thinking himself ‘interesting’ and not ‘crazy’ when the delusions brought on by insomnia over took his mind.  i try to tell myself the same thing (among others) at sleepless times but i know the game im playing within my own mind.  my mind hasnt figured out how to trick itself.. yet.

wouldnt be so bad to think that if boring = sleep and interesting = insomnia, my sleeplessness makes me interesting.

math for insomniacs.  maybe i should write a book.  the way this night is going i could probably have it done by morning.


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team play

you know when you lay down for a nap and its only suppose to be 30 minutes, 40 tops, and it turns into a 3 hour sleep?  well after church today i had me one of those naps. now because of that im wired and wide awake as the minute hands approaches a quarter to 3am.
this isnt going to be good for my insomnia..

i walked into the st andrews gymnasium just shortly after 5 tonight.  at 5 they begin serving the community dinner to the poor and homeless of the city.  tonight they had all the tables covered with red and green table clothes for christmas.  i noticed 6 new tables in the large room and faces ive never seen before.  the need for food among those below the poverty level continues to grow here.  these newly added tables and new faces are a silent reminder of that.

paul is the first one to me.

‘are we playing tonight?!’

last week when we canceled street soccer for the week paul was the most upset, or at the very least showed it the most.  his face physically dropped from a giant smile (that he usually wears) to a floor-rattling frown when i told him ‘no street soccer this week’.  some of our guys (paul especially) really look forward to this night together playing sports.  to some it may look like just a game with a round ball and small red nets, to others it means spending time with a community of friends doing something they love.

‘yes we are.’

big hug.  we are a group that loves to hug 🙂

other players get up out of their seats and make their way over.  informal team meeting happens.  more players asking about practice tonight followed by high fives and fist pumps.  i wish i was always this popular.

glen cant play because of a leg injury but decides to do color commentary from an elevated seat on the stage.  glen usually likes to give play-by-plays on the action, with an enthusiasm unmatched by most.  his stories are so seamlessly told along with his commentary that i dont notice the change overs.

‘what a great move by ryan!  that reminds me of the time i moved from east vancouver out to the mountains.  what a rough winter that was.  colder than the north pole, i swear!  i saw more snow that year than i bet you will ever see in your lifetime.  i hope it doesnt snow this winter.  i dont have any winter boots. i sold them for a silver toaster oven so i could touch up on my baking skills.. what a pass!’

thanks, glen.

lots of players out tonight.  some new faces and younger kids.  dylon, who i guess it about 9 or 10 years of age, played on my team with john, who has almost lost his big belly!  he looks so much healthier.  dylon came out with a couple of older at-risk youth who have been out to play a few times.  unsure and slightly hesitant at first, he eventually became comfortable in his new surroundings and played really well.

i get thinking about what type of background dylon comes from and what he goes home to.  foster home?  group home?   it makes me think that we need to do something more intentional with kids of younger ages as well.

fransisco, a relatively new player from chile, is out once again to play.  he has a smooth style to his game thats pretty graceful and fun to watch, even better to play alongside.  only problem is that his english isnt very good and my spanish isnt any better.  communication between us is quite difficult but we manage.  the guys love having him out and playing with him.  he seems quite grateful to have a community of people to belong to and we are more than happy to have him.

after the last game wraps up (a win for val’s skins team), everyone shakes hands and says their goodbyes.  some guys say a short goodbye and leave for home, while others hang out till the last possible moment, soaking in every last bit of time with their teammates and coaches as they can.

starving for community.

nets and balls are put away.  lights go off in the gym.  doors are locked up. couple more hugs shared between friends.

street soccer is over for another week,  and its now time for me to wrestle with the sandman.



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a short ode

before time began
You had the plan
in spite of man
You proclaimed, ‘I can’
because no man can plan
the things you can

im amazed..

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