Well, I haven't finished writing and sending my Christmas cards..

I haven't bought a single Christmas present.

Apart from our tree being up and decorations in place, I just haven't done much in the spirit of the holiday season.  But as I am at this moment in Prince Albert finishing up the last Executive meeting of 2021 and other responsibilities for NCEM, I need to stay focused on the tasks at hand.

Tomorrow, we will celebrate at a "South American Fiesta" Christmas party with our NCEM headquarters staff.  We have gone to one other holiday event, yet somehow I still feel outside the typical build up to Christmas.

I think one reason for the unusual feelings is that our son, Daniel is getting married on January 1!  We are thinking of his big day, our part in preparing smoked pork ribs and invest in the wedding festivities.  So we have pared down our usual Christmas day gifts and abundance of baking and special dishes.  Our focus is on this once in a lifetime celebration for Daniel and Michaela.  

I think once I am home and can set aside formal ministry, then I will be able to concentrate and get in the spirit of Jesus' birth.  I am participating in our church Christmas Eve service and leading worship on Sunday (Boxing Day). That'll be so wonderful!  and with keeping our Christmas celebrations simpler this year, I will have more time and emotional resources to just enjoy.

My longing is for quiet moments to think on Christ.  To read Scripture, to enjoy Christmas carols and to focus on prayer for family and friends is my heart's desire.  So having less to do these next two weeks will leave me more energy for the wedding!  

I'm pretty sure Jesus is okay with my revised priorities this year.  He is pleased when we are at peace and find our rest and joy in Him.  Lord, help me lean on You!

 Advent is one of my favourite seasons of the Christian calendar.

Why?

This year I am finding myself quite off-kilter as I anticipate Advent and Christmas.  Walter and I have experienced so many changes in our "normal" in the past year that I am having to re-examine why for a lot of things.

Why am I in the ministry?  Why do I find change difficult?  Why do I like people and hate computers?  Why do I like church?  Why do I enjoy music, writing, baking, birds, flowers?  Why do we live where we live and do what we do?

So as I see some snow on the ground and hear Christmas carols playing in the grocery store, I am feeling out of sorts from the usual excitement of the holidays.  Because what we used to do in the Advent season is now a thing of our past.  Our familiar traditions are being replaced by new ones.  Embracing the new means stripping away the former and prioritizing what was important about the old.  What do I keep from my traditional Christmas habits and rituals?  What can I remove, let fall by the wayside as I experience a new church body and our new additions to our family?

Why has Advent been a treasured tradition to me?

I love decorating our home and the Christmas tree.  The dining room we built on our house is transformed from the Thanksgiving fall theme to a twinkling, green and red extravaganza!  We play familiar Christmas CD's or albums on my phone through a Bluetooth speaker.  We reminisce of Christmases past when children were little and sometimes repair ornaments that have been well-loved over the years!  The memories we have made stir up joy and love.

I love when our family is together.  Our Christmas plans are different every year, but at some point our kids will congregate here.  We will add a daughter-in-law on New Year's Day so that is something new and beautiful to anticipate!  Extended family usually join us for some festivities and it is a blessing to use our home for the ministry of hospitality.  The food, the laughter, the movies and the games we play are annual traditions that are especially part of our family celebrations.

But of course, my favourite part of Christmas is the reason we celebrate:  JESUS.

When my mom and sister and I lived in Kisbey, we started a tradition that I have continued.  We made a series of letters that spell "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" out of old Christmas cards and strung them on yarn or string.  We hung it in the living room of our mobile home.  I think since our first or second Christmas, Walter and I have hung our own birthday sign in a prominent place.  Occasionally people will come into our home and ask "Who's birthday is it?"  Then when it dawns on them that it is Jesus' birthday, they go, "Oh, right!"  It is a wonderful reminder of why we celebrate this holiday.

"I'm coming back to the heart of worship, and it's all about You, all about You, Jesus..." (Matt Redman)

"Jesus, be the center; be my source, be my life, Jesus.  Jesus, be the center, be my hope, be my song, Jesus.  Be the fire in my heart, be the wind in these sails, be the reason that I live - Jesus, Jesus.    Jesus, be my vision, be my path, be my guide, Jesus."  (Michael Frye)

Yes, I am holding on to Jesus in the midst of the changes and new traditions flooding my life.  I am holding on to the blessing of my husband and family as we continue to build new memories.  And I am going to give and serve and sing and rejoice with the church family God has given us because it is all about JESUS!

 I ran into someone Walter and I have known for over twenty-five years, just as I was going about my errands and appointments today.  He asked how we were doing and what we were up to now.  This guy used to be a bus driver and now is working for Canada Post.  Over the years, we have done many funerals for his relatives.  He and some of his family are Christians and many of them are musical.   Our conversation got me thinking... 

As I filled him in on our lives and our new ministry responsibilities with NCEM, he asked us where we go to church now.  When I asked him where he was involved, he shrugged and told me "No where."

He told me how disillusioned he was with churches and with religion.  He felt that many preachers were over-emphasizing hell and using fear to drive people.  What about God's love and mercy?

As we talked, I got the distinct impression that this man was looking for excuses to not attend church or not use his gift of music to serve the Lord.  I agreed with some of his points, but wondered if he was adjusting his beliefs because he found the spiritual walk with Christ too hard.  Was he watering down the Gospel message to suit himself and those around him?

So here's what I was thinking after I drove away from northcentral Regina: "...the love of many will grow cold."  (Matthew 24:12b)

Following Jesus is not an easy thing.  If it was, everybody would be doing it!  For those in First Nations culture, the Christian way means giving up spiritual practices of their culture.  It means being ridiculed for accepting "Whiteman's religion".  It means turning away from lifestyles that may have included gang life, addictions, abuse, criminal activity and broken relationships that hold back from healthy choices.

Following Jesus for ANYBODY involves these things.  If anyone wants to be a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ, they must "deny themselves "(Matthew 16:24), and give up their old way of life.  The fact is, our "old ways" do not bring us peace, do not relieve us of our guilt for sins and do not fix broken relationships.  So leaving behind useless and futile methods of coping with stress and struggle should actually be appealing!

The promise is that if we deny ourselves - in other words repent - we leave behind our heavy burden.  Sin is a burden.  Guilt, pain, regret, sorrow are all consequences of our sin.  We can't get rid of them no matter what psychological tricks we play on ourselves.  We can try to hide, mask our pain, sedate and medicate our guilt but we can never get rid of the burden.

Jesus said He can.  He promises to forgive us our sins when we confess them and repent of them.  "If we confess our sins He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."  (1 John 1:9)  

In the course of believing in Christ and accepting His offer of forgiveness and salvation, many people find the "following" part too hard.  Loving everyone, going to church, reading the Bible, avoiding temptation and giving up old friends and ways...many find it to be a bunch of rules...which becomes religion.

Too bad this guy who had once been a vibrant and dedicated member of a church, has now given up on  fellowship and chosen to be on the outside.  He may have been right in pointing out the faults and weaknesses of certain people who become harsh in their faith and presentation of the Gospel.  But if we give up on our church family and draw away, we become vulnerable to the enemy's attack.

"And then many will fall away and betray one another and hate one another.  And many false prophets will arise and lead many astray.  And because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold."  (Matthew 24:10-12)

If we don't stay close to the Shepherd and hang out with the sheep, we do become easy prey for the wolf!  There will be wolves, false prophets, who teach things that aren't from the Bible.  They will water down the message of the Gospel by de-emphasizing hell, sin, the devil and many other very critical points of truth.  

"For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth..." (II Timothy 4:3 & 4)

And if we think we can continue to grow spiritually by having church at home, by learning online and doing our own research, we can surround ourselves with teachers who preach what suits us.  That's a dangerous place to be!  God gave us the church and pastors and each other so we can grow and be accountable.  We are protected by the Shepherd best when we stay in the fold!  And our faith will not grow cold but we will be warmed by others' faith, as well.

I am praying for our friend who I encountered today.  I hope he remembers our conversation and is motivated to get back into fellowship with God and His people.  

  THE RESIDENTIAL SCHOOL

        Expectation.  Trepidation.  Anticipation.

Feeling all of these things, we arrived at the Kamloops Indian Residential School.  The overcast sky captured our somber mood.  Not fully knowing what to expect, my husband, our friend Frank and myself turned into the driveway of the former institution that has captured the news headlines for months:  215 unmarked graves discovered.  Shocking and triggering for the families and survivors of an extremely dark period of Canada’s history.

The imposing red brick buildings stood against the Thompson River.  The main building from behind stood four or five stories high, with the upper floors containing windows that looked to have been original to the construction  back in 1890 and then rebuilt in 1923 after a fire.  Another white structure, that may have been a dormitory, stood apart from the main buildings, also looking like early 20th century architecture.  My eyes took in the sights; my heart searched for meaning.

Walter, Frank and I had stopped to pick up a bouquet of flowers.  We were preparing to take a video of Walter and Frank placing a bouquet near the monument.  But the First Nations lady who was cleaning the monument indicated we could set our offering on a table and she would see to it that it was placed there.  Others were bent or kneeling in fresh soil, arranging coloured stones in a circle.  Some large flat slabs of stone, painted orange, leaned against a tree, but I didn’t have time to read the black hand-written messages on them.  

This monument stood on the edge of a large, groomed soccer field.  

Behind us, the residential school stood, looking very sturdy.  It had been re-purposed by the Indigenous band for administrative use and for a museum.  We were not allowed in; everything was closed off to the public.

Anti-climactic.  

I am not sure what I was expecting.  But I was praying to be open to whatever God was going to say, however He was going to impress this place upon us.  

We had spent the morning listening to the son of a residential school survivor from northern Ontario.  His mother and two uncles had been kidnapped, taken by the RCMP and an Indian agent forcibly in order to attend school away from their home community.  His grandmother fought for them but being handicapped by a childhood accident, she had only one leg and a wooden crutch with which to defend her children.  She was charged with assault of a police officer and spent time in jail for her actions. (This son explained that he uses the term kidnapped, because when he would share that his mother went to residential school, his listeners would glaze over, having been desensitized.  I had felt the shock of his use of that word but it was true.  Agonizingly true.)

*G. gave a heart-wrenching narrative of his family history.  His mother and uncles attended school and did not return the same.  They each were beaten, abused, refused family visits and then released in their mid-teens. When G.’s mother came back to her home community, she had no idea how to live there.  No knowledge of family, culture or social cues. One day, she had gone to the Hudson Bay store to get groceries.  She met a white man there from the south, the city of Toronto, and shortly thereafter ended up marrying him.  She gave birth to six boys; G. made reference to a sister, also.  They lived in abject poverty as their dad was an alcoholic and their mother raised the children.  She had not learned how to be a wife and mother.  G.’s home life was filled with fear, anger, abuse and brokenness.

One by one, G. told the stories of his brothers.  He was the youngest, so he gave their stories as he recalled.  Addictions, violence, abuse, poverty, escape, murder, and mental illness are just some of the symptoms of the tragedies in their lives.  We followed the ups and downs of his journey through trauma after trauma.  He had to identify the body of his brother after another brother had stabbed him for beating up their father.  How does anyone survive this?

By nothing short of a miracle, he met his future wife when he was living in Sudbury with his brother. They were invited to a church and he only went because of the promise of a meal after the service.  G.  heard the Gospel through the testimony of someone who had met Jesus and been profoundly changed by that decision of faith.  He didn’t fully understand the message but was drawn to return to that church.  It didn’t hurt that the pastor had several pretty daughters, so he did come back for another service with mixed motives!

He eventually prayed to become a Christian and immediately felt joy and happiness.  But the pain he carried, the suppressed memories and unhealthy thought patterns would plague him through his journey.

As we listened to this testimony, all of us at this meeting were impacted.  Shock.  Grief.  Relating from our own life experiences.  Anger at the evil.  Frustration at abuse and no one stopping it!

And then Walter, Frank and I went to the site where those types of atrocities had happened. We were halfway across the country from G.’s community, but being there made the stories all the more real.  And then we were blocked from seeing inside the building or setting our own flowers at the memorial.  We weren’t sure what to do with all we had heard in the morning and all we had built up to express in some small way.  We walked back to the vehicle in the parking lot, having taken a few pictures, and then unceremoniously drove away.

G. opened his testimony with Scriptures from II Kings about Solomon and the ships that he had constructed.  They were built strong and sturdy, ready to sail off on the seas.  Their journey was successful and they brought back tons of gold for the nation of Israel.  In contrast, Solomon’s grandson, Jehoshaphat built a fleet of ships and also sent them off to acquire gold.  But they had barely been launched when they met with tragedy and sunk, completely unsuccessful in the purpose for which they were built.  

Some lives are like these ships.  They are designed for success and have all the great investment and support to succeed.  They accomplish the purposes for which they were created.  Others never have a chance.  They begin with potential but circumstances set them up for failure and destruction.  G.’s wife came from a loving and strongly Christian family.  She grew up safe and protected, given all the advantages of biblical principles and opportunities for success.  Her story included the detail that as a young girl, she felt compelled to pray for her future husband.  She began to ask God to protect him from drugs, alcohol and other temptations.  Knowing her parents would not allow her to even associate with such people, she wondered what kind of  man would become her husband and why would God lead her to someone who might be from that dark lifestyle!  But years later, G. would hear of her prayers and would say: “So you’re the reason I never had fun back then!”

I took a picture of a teddy bear and tiny shoes placed by a tree on the residential school property.  Although G.’s mother survived her years at the residential school, the damage done to her as a woman was never healed in her lifetime.  The ongoing effects of her pain rippled through her sons.  She married an abusive man and lived her days in fear and helplessness.  Her husband died from his alcoholism.  The last words he heard from his father were: “What the hell are you doing here?” (When G. visited his dad in the hospital on his deathbed.)  

G. attributes his life change, his successful marriage and family and career and ministry opportunities to his hope in the Lord Jesus Christ.  That’s it.  But the process of healing has been lengthy, with setbacks, but also much grace and courage.

Our hearts are touched.  There is hope.

 Wood smoke swirled in the windless morning air, while I sipped piping hot coffee.  I was settled in my comfy lawn chair, the type that has the side table that swings up and locks into place.  My Bible and journal lay open on my lap, waiting for the discoveries I would make in my time with the Lord.  Nothing but a glorious day ahead; no rushing to the next meeting or checking the time to prepare for the next meal.  Summer holidays!

What freedom we could enjoy.  Sleep as long as we can, eat when we are hungry, stare into the campfire or listen to the birds.  

We joked that we would be gone to our rustic cabin in the woods, with no amenities and no contact with the outside world!  In reality, we can get cell phone service and could normally use our phones to "hot spot" and get access to the internet.  But God made it possible for us to have a quiet break away from it all - the cell service was really poor and when we did get a phone call, it dropped part way through and we had to change locations to get better signal!  Truly, it was peaceful.

For entertainment, I brought crossword and word search books.  We listened to an audiobook or to the inspirational radio programs on CHAB each evening.  We took walks and went to the beach.  I brought a few DVD's to play on my laptop - which we did watch but rarely stayed awake long enough to finish a movie in one sitting!

Something we had never done before is bring our quad to the Qu'appelle Valley.  We have had wonderful adventures behind the NCEM headquarters property on Wildlife Management trails.  So for something different, we decided to haul the quad down and see what new sights we could see.  It started off pretty tame, following the groomed "Great Canada Trail" that runs from Sandy Beach to Katepwa Beach and beyond...but it is a well-traveled with many hikers, cyclists and golf cart-ers who also frequent the path.  And ever the explorer and pioneer, Walter's eye would wander up a "road not taken" and so we did venture off the beaten track.  

A couple of trails headed into ravines that looked inviting.  A few quad tracks led up the slopes of the valley, but they looked steep for a quad with two riders.  Eventually, we did take one path that looked relatively easy.  By the time we reached the summit, I had reached my limit!  Not a fan of heights to begin with, I dared to look out over the valley and the beautiful lake below and felt my heart race and knees turn to Jell-O!  So before Walter could turn back to descend the hill, I tapped him on the shoulder and said, "I think I'll just walk down!"

So I did!  I had nothing to prove and no pride to defend.  I'm a chicken and I know it!

Walter went down with no problem, riding the brake all the way down. I followed, still with my helmet on, looking ridiculous but feeling very relieved to be on foot.  The view was spectacular.  I rejoined my husband at the main trail and we continued on our way.

The next day or so, we decided to follow one of the ravines.  It started off in a pasture space, near a wonderful Saskatoon berry patch we picked last summer.  (By the way, the berries had been poor this year and we only found small and shriveled up ones on the bushes.  Disappointing.  We picked a couple of cups worth and I threw them into pancakes for breakfast.)  Then the tracks led into a more wooded area and we wound our way along the bottom of the ravine quite a ways.  A dry creek bed curved and curled and the track took us down through it.  I jumped off as Walter wasn't sure just how steep it was.  I happily followed behind and got back on the other side.  We forgot to turn on our cell phone app that tracks the distance and makes a map of our journeys so we're not sure how far this particular path went. It may have crossed the creek bed again somewhere, but we took the trail that looked most worn until it was a dead end.

Walter turned around at the end and we retraced our path.  Then we noticed a side trail and decided to see where it led.  We saw a slight rise but thought it looked safe so we pushed forward.  As the bush cleared and we reached the yellow prairie grasses, we realized it would continue to slope upward.  Hmmm.  It had been a successful trip last time, although I chickened out at the top, but I trusted Walter's handling of the machine.  And I thought I should face my fears.

What seems an easy slope from the bottom can become steeper before you know it!  As Walter geared down to make the last bit, the trail seemed to be at a slight right-leaning angle.  We didn't see the rock embedded at the edge of the leaning track and as the front wheel lifted over the rock, the quad tipped over to the right.  The front came up and we went over!

I know it's cliche, but everything seemed in slow motion.  I wasn't freaking out.  We weren't going very fast - in first gear - but I was going to have not only the quad but my husband landing on me!  I wasn't looking forward to the pain.  Surprisingly, I seemed to land mostly out from under the weight and Walter took the brunt of the bruising and gashing.  We both stood up immediately, while Walter pushed at the quad.  It was on its side.  He righted it.  Then we took stock of our injuries.  Walter's knee and elbow were bleeding.  I could feel a soreness on my right knee/leg/backside.  With both of us wearing helmets, we didn't feel any issues with our heads.  

Adrenaline does crazy things!  I decided to run up the rest of the hill to see how far and what kind of crest it would have been.  It got steeper and I'm glad we didn't attempt to go all the way up!  Whew!

Meanwhile, Walter was manoevering the quad to get back onto the trail.  It tipped again, but stopped by the bushes.  Walter had to ride on the side, holding the throttle with his right hand and standing on the right running board.  He had done that type of move with snow machines back in the day to get out of deep snow.  It worked to get across the slope and onto the flatter part of the trail.

I'm glad we hopped back on and rode down the trail so quick.  Later, I would feel fear grip me but I didn't want to lose my nerve and forfeit some fun adventures in the future.  I am pretty sure we won't be seeking any more mountain climbing thrills anytime soon!

Once we got back to our cabin, we took a closer look at the machine.  It had some damage to the front grill/bars that Walter was able to fix with the help of the winch and a tree!  The plastic had popped out of place, but soon popped back once the bars were corrected.  The first aid kit came out and I washed up Walter's scrapes and sprayed antiseptic on his wounds.  That stung worse than the initial injuries!  I got away with pretty mild bruises and some soreness on my right shoulder.  The Lord was looking out for us.

Another first for us was to try the "Disc Golf" course near the beach.  We grabbed two frisbees from the random stuff at the cabin and played the nine holes.  It was fun!  Walter beat me quite handily; he thinks I let him win, but I am competitive enough that I wouldn't do that.  I'm already thinking through how to throw better and work on my technique so that next time, he won't be quite so comfortable!

We have a few more days off at home.  Back to civilization, running water, Keurig coffee and yes, cell phone service and the internet!

 Two Farewells, a 50th Anniversary and an Engagement

The past two months have held some special moments for Walter and me.

Our long time friends and coworkers stepped down from their leadership/pastoral role at Healing Hearts Ministry.  For 23 years, Bob and Gwen Lydiate served as co-pastors in our Regina church.  Our kids grew up together with theirs.  From baptisms, weddings and funerals to Hallowe'en parties and New Years' Eve celebrations, we shared in so many ministry moments.  

Their final service was held outdoors on a beautifully hot Sunday morning.  Bob led in worship, sharing some favourite songs that he either wrote or introduced to Healing Hearts.  He also preached from Isaiah 61, sharing the call of Jesus Christ (as He quoted this passage in the Gospel of Luke).  Just as Jesus' ministry was to proclaim the Good News, to heal and set free, Bob and Gwen still feel very much that they are to continue that focus even though they will no longer serve in full time pastoral ministry. They see Healing Hearts as a vital ministry within north central Regina and encouraged the flock to carry on reaching out to the wounded in the community.  They served cold drinks and packaged snacks - wishing we could have had a meal to share in this day.

A couple of speeches were given in appreciation and a lovely star blanket was presented to them.  The Board and leadership gathered to pray over and bless this faithful couple into the next season of their lives.  I know it was an emotional day for them and for those of us who have known and served alongside them.  Farewells are difficult but God's grace is there for these occasions.

On July 11, Healing Hearts gave us a "second farewell", which Caylea affectionately called our "memorial"!!!  The afternoon was a scorcher so we met indoors.  It was special to have a nice gathering of folks to wish us well and to honour our years of serving as founders and leaders in Healing Hearts Ministry for 27 years.  some nice speeches were given and a special prayer, as well as a star blanket was draped over us!  (The first farewell was in February, but with the restricted numbers and the service on Facebook Live, they wanted to have a larger gathering to send us off.)  

They had lovely fruit-kabobs, Munchie Mix and a special cake for us - Caylea had chosen a couple old pictures of us for the cake so we had a good laugh!  We felt loved and appreciated as many came to encourage and appreciate us.

The following Friday, we made a quick trip to Alberta to celebrate the 50th Anniversary of NEFC (Native Evangelical Fellowship of Canada).  They had planned a virtual celebration but then with restrictions being lifted, they invited several folks last minute.  It was another super hot day on the prairies.  We arrived at Kikino Metis Settlement and waited until just before 7 pm to enter the already hot church.  

The little NEFC church in Kikino hosted a radio broadcast and Facebook Live of the festivities.  A Native man shared some Gospel songs, and the Director and his wife, Kene & Milly Jackson, also sang several songs.  They all were perspiring so profusely, we were worried someone would pass out!  Walter was also called up to give some words and present a special certificate.  Then one of the co-founders, Bill Jackson, shared a sermon.  Four First Nations men were the originals when NEFC was formed back in 1971 and it was an honour to have met each of them over our years in Native ministry.  It was amazing to hear Bill, in his 80's, share so passionately about his faith and the truth of God's Word.  We were so blessed to be part of this celebration.  It was encouraging to see many First Nations church leaders and church members gather to sing, worship and fellowship together!  May the Lord keep blessing this organization and bring many more First Nations to know Jesus!

And then a real highlight in our lives...our son, Daniel, proposed to his girlfriend, Michaela Klassen, and she said YES!  We are so thankful that God has led in their lives and brought them together!  They haven't set a date for the wedding yet, but are working on the logistics of work/home base once they are a married couple.  Stay tuned for the details!

                                                               Daniel & Michaela

One morning, while refilling my cup during coffee break, I stared out the huge windows of the lodge at Big River Bible Camp.  The camp is situated on the beautiful Delaronde Lake, and when we all arrived for our candidate training a week earlier, the lake was still covered with ice.  But that morning, I couldn't believe my eyes - the ice had completely disappeared and liquid flowed in its place!

Another day, when the temperatures had risen to +28 degrees Celsius, you could almost see and hear the leaves of the aspens literally popping as they burst forth in the spring sunshine!  We took a drive in the countryside and marveled at the handiwork of God.  Seeing that delicate green fringing the slender trees lifted our spirits and filled us with a sense of hope.

What a difference a few days makes!

When the candidates began arriving on May 1, each one came with some expectations, some hopes and some trepidation.  What would they learn?  Would they enjoy the classes?  Would they make friends?  As the days turned into weeks, those who were previously strangers began to develop appreciation for each other. Each morning, we began our day with someone sharing their story, or their testimony of finding Christ and being led into full time ministry.  Through worshiping and praying together, a spiritual bond was also forming. 

Not only through spiritual activities, but through sharing in class, we all grew in knowledge and through veteran missionaries' experiences, learned so much about what a life on the mission field could look like.  As we interacted with the instructors, we grew closer to one another.

Walter challenged the new recruits to prepare and present their 2-minute and 10-minute presentations on their ministry.  As each one overcame fears and shared their hearts, the gentle critiquing by fellow-classmates helped to improve their content and time management.  We saw growth in confidence and graciousness.

As we did a final debrief, we all took turns sharing what had been most impactful of the three week orientation and training.  Some shared about the suicide prevention and intervention seminars.  Others mentioned the impact of learning from First Nations Christians about their culture and traditional religion.  Still others commented on the movies we watched that depicted some of the historic tragedies of residential school and battles to put Indigenous people on reserve land.  

We spent three weeks together, living in close quarters, sharing every meal and working side by side in the dish pit.  We learned together, cried together and prayed together...as a family!  As far as I know, no one fought or had any major conflicts, except the two 3-year-olds had some over-exposure to each other!  But they had a break from each other occasionally and ended up still being friends at the end.

I'm thrilled that we could hold the training in 2021!  Now we have 12 new missionaries equipped, encouraged and empowered to finish building their support teams and begin their active ministries.

What a difference 21 days makes!