Somewhere in Canada, I was given four glorious days to spend time at Victoria, BC. It was a gift for being part of belonging in a delegation to make a better British Columbia for the working class.
In between times, before the convention, I wandered aimlessly in the city, looking for a sign from God. Some of them are written on the wall.
I did not question God why are you doing this? It’s not His doing in the first place, People did.
Amidst the gift of suffering, I can see that there is a constant gift of resurrection. Joy springs forth knowing that God is everywhere.
I saw it on a lone visitor taking a selfie in front of Victoria Parliament. A man in the dark reading the glorious dead monument. Glorious because they fought the war for the glory of their country, Canada. A day of mourning honoring the people who died at work due to work hazard and fighting for the living to continue lobbying for a safe working environment.
Then my heart softens when I saw older folks walking hand in hand crossing the street, a healthy tabby cat in a very narrow alleyway of Fan Tan Alley, beehives to pollinate the lavish Empress Hotel gardens. These are God’s creation.
I met people crossing the threshold of their lives from sobriety, homelessness, physical to invisible disabilities and much more. The buskers playing the pipes, guitar, cello and violins. People wandering aimlessly like me with Starbucks coffee or ice cream on hand. These are the many faces of God.
At the end of the convention, the rain came back. The rain felt good on my face and I welcomed it. Finally, I met my friend’s sick old dog he brought along to Victoria to care for in between the convention.
Allowing my body wandered, my mind wondered to the mystery, wearing my heart on my heart and life never ceases to amaze me.
At the same token, my group constantly wonders about me and looking for me where the hell I am. My response was, in my own little world and I will meet you at the convention as planned, on time.