Home, Home, and Home


A friend got married back in my hometown of Estevan, Saskatchewan on April 1. I packed up the family and drove 5 hours to be there, and just barely made it.

Then we drove up to Regina to see my new nephew and my brother and sister-in-law. Cute little guy, he is (my nephew, not my brother).

Driving back to my new home in Winnipeg today, my 5 year old daughter said, while still under Saskatchewan skies, "Daddy, I love this land."

So do I. A few years ago I collected some Saskatchewan dirt in a jar, and I now have it placed prominently in my office.

Something about one's home turf inspires reflection. The above picture is of the tree I used to sit under while on recess breaks in Junior High. The school was torn down recently, hence the landscaping difficulties in the background. That tree was my private chapel. I would pull out my pocket New Testament With Psalms and Proverbs and tap into the psalmist's anguish and his zeal. That tree saw me grow physically and spiritually... and it seems bigger too.

My old home visited, my new home returned to. My future home...?

What do Pope John Paul II and Obi Wan Kenobi have in common? "Strike me down, and I will become more powerful than you could possibly imagine."

My beloved Papa is in my future home right now, sitting under a tree. But not just any tree. I made a deal with him - the same deal I made with my grandparents and with my little miscarried Rachel Liberty a few years ago: "Meet me under the Tree of Life."

So the four of them are sitting there, getting to know each other, basking in the love of Jesus, and worshipping him while they pray for me. Wow. I'm sure that every now and then St. Benedict pops by to see how their intercession is going.

Everybody sing together now: "All holy men and women...."