I immigrated to Canada when I was just 20. I am no longer the girl I was when I left my family nearly 55 years ago, a naïve young woman who was open to adventure and discovery. With the exception of a dose of homesickness on my first New Year’s here, I barely looked back over my shoulder. I expected to return to the country where I was raised, but knew I wasn’t going to live there again.
In ideal circumstances, families prepare us to go out into the world; this is something we are supposed to do. We will go home to visit, but not necessarily to stay.
On one level, this is what happened to me. I was invited to Canada, my family let me go, and I came. Everything that has happened in my life since then has occurred because I took that action. I could say that what I did was a random decision, but I am a Christian and have a relationship with Jesus. I look at my life’s journey through that lens of faith.
I don’t think I was aware that God was at work in my life when I immigrated to Canada. To leave home is to take a risk – my family, friends and job provided a familiar landscape. At the same time, I would be living in Canada with a couple who had been part of my parents’ lives for many years. Whether I understood it or not, they provided me with a safety net during those first months in a strange country.
I think sometimes God takes us away from what is familiar so that we will discover who we really are. My friends also showed me a different landscape. They were agnostic and took me to a Unitarian church. For the first time, I questioned whether the God I believed in really existed. Gradually I came to the realization that He did. I now owned the faith I had inherited.
My faith deepened when I moved to Toronto. At the same time, my umbilical cord with my family was broken. However, I still needed the kind of support they had provided. I joined a group for young adults at a local church, made friends in other areas of my life, and became part of a community. Slowly I began to put down roots.
These roots were fed and watered in the same church for over 45 years. Then I became aware of a strange restlessness. A voice inside me seemed to be saying, “It’s time to explore my world beyond the pew.” It was an invitation.
At first, I resisted. I felt secure and couldn’t believe God wanted me to move on. When I immigrated to Canada, I knew where I was going. This time I didn’t know my destination. I also didn’t know who would provide me with a safety net. But I had to be willing to listen to the voice that now seemed to be saying, “Take the first step and I will show you.”
As I ventured outside familiar territory, I discovered God’s world could look very different depending on which direction I took. On a surprisingly warm Sunday in November, I rode the ferry to St. Andrew-by-the-Lake on Toronto Island. As I left the church that morning, the steps were coated with ladybugs. I had just spent an hour with people who were really pleased to see me. As I stepped outside the door, one of them said, “Do come back again.” I didn’t know it at the time, but I had found my new safety net.
I moved outside the pew when I joined Contemplative Fire. The worship is experiential and uses metaphor to illustrate the scripture reading of the day, which engages me. This monastic, dispersed community has a rhythm of life rooted in prayer, study and action. As I meet with other members to meditate, learn, and then go out into the world, I realize I am traveling on an inner journey. I am not the person I was when I first left the church to which I belonged seven years ago. The journey is not over yet. I continue to evolve.
God nudges us into new territory
I immigrated to Canada when I was just 20. I am no longer the girl I was when I left my family nearly 55 years ago, a naïve young woman who was open to adventure and discovery. With the exception of a dose of homesickness on my first New Year’s here, I barely looked back over my shoulder. I expected to return to the country where I was raised, but knew I wasn’t going to live there again.
In ideal circumstances, families prepare us to go out into the world; this is something we are supposed to do. We will go home to visit, but not necessarily to stay.
On one level, this is what happened to me. I was invited to Canada, my family let me go, and I came. Everything that has happened in my life since then has occurred because I took that action. I could say that what I did was a random decision, but I am a Christian and have a relationship with Jesus. I look at my life’s journey through that lens of faith.
I don’t think I was aware that God was at work in my life when I immigrated to Canada. To leave home is to take a risk – my family, friends and job provided a familiar landscape. At the same time, I would be living in Canada with a couple who had been part of my parents’ lives for many years. Whether I understood it or not, they provided me with a safety net during those first months in a strange country.
I think sometimes God takes us away from what is familiar so that we will discover who we really are. My friends also showed me a different landscape. They were agnostic and took me to a Unitarian church. For the first time, I questioned whether the God I believed in really existed. Gradually I came to the realization that He did. I now owned the faith I had inherited.
My faith deepened when I moved to Toronto. At the same time, my umbilical cord with my family was broken. However, I still needed the kind of support they had provided. I joined a group for young adults at a local church, made friends in other areas of my life, and became part of a community. Slowly I began to put down roots.
These roots were fed and watered in the same church for over 45 years. Then I became aware of a strange restlessness. A voice inside me seemed to be saying, “It’s time to explore my world beyond the pew.” It was an invitation.
At first, I resisted. I felt secure and couldn’t believe God wanted me to move on. When I immigrated to Canada, I knew where I was going. This time I didn’t know my destination. I also didn’t know who would provide me with a safety net. But I had to be willing to listen to the voice that now seemed to be saying, “Take the first step and I will show you.”
As I ventured outside familiar territory, I discovered God’s world could look very different depending on which direction I took. On a surprisingly warm Sunday in November, I rode the ferry to St. Andrew-by-the-Lake on Toronto Island. As I left the church that morning, the steps were coated with ladybugs. I had just spent an hour with people who were really pleased to see me. As I stepped outside the door, one of them said, “Do come back again.” I didn’t know it at the time, but I had found my new safety net.
I moved outside the pew when I joined Contemplative Fire. The worship is experiential and uses metaphor to illustrate the scripture reading of the day, which engages me. This monastic, dispersed community has a rhythm of life rooted in prayer, study and action. As I meet with other members to meditate, learn, and then go out into the world, I realize I am traveling on an inner journey. I am not the person I was when I first left the church to which I belonged seven years ago. The journey is not over yet. I continue to evolve.
Author
Helen Robinson
Keep on reading
Youth, leaders seek support for CLAY trip
Proud Anglicans
Market Day
Bus trips builds bonds between congregations
Why Refugee Sunday?
Animals delight young and old at service