Thoughts on What the Future Might Hold...

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It is a sad day for Canadians: Prime Minister Harper and his Conservatives Party's Omnibus Crime Bill C-10 (An Act to enact the Justice for Victims of Terrorism Act and to amend the State Immunity Act, the Criminal Code, the Controlled Drugs and Substances Act, the Corrections and Conditional Release Act, the Youth Criminal Justice Act, the Immigration and Refugee Protection Act and other Acts) is law.  It was passed by Parliament yesterday and given Royal Assent this afternoon.

I wonder what kind of Canada my son will grow up in.  I watch what has been taking place in Canadian politics and I worry.  How long will it take for the generations to come to undo the damage that the current government seems intent to wreak upon our country?  They seem determined to destroy the environment, to increase economic disparity, and to promote crime and incarceration.  I worry about what kind of country my son will inherit.

I'm not normally in the habit of praying for our nation (though it's a good practice).  I'm beginning to think that I ought to be.

Ruler supreme, who hearest humble prayer,

Hold our Dominion in thy loving care;

Help us to find, O God, in thee

A lasting, rich reward,

As waiting for the better Day,

We ever stand on guard.

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Thoughts on Fatherhood: Pleasantly Suprised

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I have long looked forward to fatherhood.  I imagined myself spending time with my son or daughter, teaching him/her about life, love, and the mystery of God.  I imagined myself answering questions about the world we live in.  I imagined myself taking him/her out to explore the wonders of creation on little journeys of discovery.  I knew that to get to that point I would have to have a newborn child.  I knew that there would be nights of crying, piles of dirty diapers, and all the like.  What I never expected is that I would so love having a newborn.  I never expected to appreciate the opportunity to hold and console an over-tired little boy.  I never expected to jump at the opportunity to change a diaper or give a bath.  I never imagined that I would wish for nothing more in my afternoon than to sit with my son and trade faces and sounds with him.  I never imagined that a little child with nothing to offer but need would have so much to share with me, would elicit so much love. 

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Thoughts on the Paths we Choose (and those we do not choose)...

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I was sitting in class this morning and one of my classmates showed me a picture of his girlfriend.  She is currently working on her Ph.D. somewhere back East right now.  It turns out that she graduated with her Bachelor's degree from the same University as me, the same year as me.

I was suddenly struck with emotion.  Here I was sitting in a first year Sociology class at a community college (technically an University, but really...) and this woman who had graduated the same time as me was working on finishing up her Ph.D.  I had been planning on taking that path before changing plans completely.  I think what I felt was a sense of loss.

I was a little bit conflicted.  I felt a sense of loss for what could have been... but I love where I am and wouldn't trade it for the world.

After a moment, I let it pass.  I would gladly take the wonderful reality that I have right now (with dirty diapers, loss of sleep, and all the rest) over a thousand potentials that might have been.  Nonetheless, we often struggle to come to terms with our past expectations when compared with the path we have chosen and where we currently find ourselves.  If only for a moment, I inwardly lamented the 'loss'.  Just for a moment... then I thought, "screw it! I'm heading home to my beautiful wife and son".  Indeed, I have suffered no loss, only wonderful, unexpected gain.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

Gratias Deo

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Eucharistic Reflections: Thoughts on this Christian Walk...

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It is one of my favourite times of the week.  I sit there and watch them make their way up to the front.  I see a son kneel down beside his mother; I see an elderly couple slowly make their way up together; couples, families, widows and widowers all walking up to the altar.  I see the tangible sign of our grace and redemption being received with open arms and grateful hearts.  Today as I watched an elderly woman with a cane being helped up to the communion rail it struck me that this is a clear reminder of how the Christian lives.  Sure, there those who will advocate for an individual faith, one centered on the autonomous choice of each person, but this is not how we live.  I carried my little newborn son up to the altar to receive a blessing from the priest.  Not long from now he will be baptized, welcomed into the community faith and joining in the journey with a whole host of witnesses who have walked the path before him.  We can pretend that we walk through this life by our own strength, that we make choices based apart from those around us, but this is not the faith tradition that I am a part of.  Isaac, my son, is carried to the altar to receive grace; when he is old enough, he will walk beside me; one day, God willing, he might hold his arm out to assist his elderly father as I struggle with cane in hand to the altar.  For now, my dear wife and I will carry him as we go to share in the Eucharist.  This is an honour beyond description.

I consider it such a blessing to share in the central Christian celebration with those in my church.  I am thankful for the grace we receive in the Wine and the Bread.  I am humbled by the reminder I receive every week that I do not walk through this life alone: to be a Christian is to be a part of a glorious community of those who have come before, those who have walked beside others, been carried by others, and carried others on this great journey.

For all those saints who have come before, for all those future saints who walk beside me... I give thanks to God.

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Leonard Cohen: Show me the place...

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I recently heard this song from Leonard Cohen's new album on CBC Radio 2 (if you're wondering who he is, think "Hallelujah" from the Olympic opening ceremonies... that's his song).  Close your eyes and sit down for a listen.

[I really don't have anything to say about it - I just wanted to share this wonderful song]
Gloria Deo

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Quote of the Day

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"So, meat hipsters, drop that smug sanctimony. Sometime soon, bacon-spiked dessert will look just as outmoded as lentil loaf and baby-doll dresses — and vegetarianism will still be a good choice for my health, society at large, and our global environment."

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Thoughts on my father and my son...

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John Elliott Curll

1943 - 1994

That's my father in the top middle (and that handsome little guy on the bottom left was me)

Today (Jan 25) is my father's birthday.  He passed away several years ago, but he would have been 69 years old today if he was still around.  I can't imagine my father being that old.  Most of my memories of him are when we my family was still intact - I was young, he was big and strong.  I have many memories of him working out in the yard.  He built fences, made gardens, constructed a giant swing set, worked on the cars or on the house.  In my memories he was big, strong, and usually very tanned (I have no memories of him with his shirt on in the summer time).  No, I can't imagine what a 69 year old Elliott would look like.

My son, Isaac Elliott Curll, is named after him.  

As I sit here late at night with Isaac sleeping against my chest (he is fussy and seems at times to only sleep if strapped to my chest) I can only imagine how proud my father would be to meet his grandson.  I know that my father would be proud to see where I am and who I am.  But it brings tears to my eyes to think about my father holding my son.  I trust that one day they will meet many years from now when they are both in the arms of our Lord - yeah, that's a bit comforting.  Still...

My father was thirty-five when he had me.  It struck me today that he was only a two years older when he had me than I am now with my newborn son.  If the pattern holds, I'll be in my late sixties before I might be a grandfather and hold a little grandchild.  I pray that God will grant me such a blessing.

My father will not hold little Isaac Elliott.  But I will take great joy in ensuring that Isaac grows up knowing where his middle name came from.

Father - I pray that you are resting in peace.  I look forward to seeing you again one day.

Gloria Deo

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