Leah Perrault

For the last month, I have been playing a game every morning with my son called Connections. When the answer is revealed, the connections are obvious. How did we fail to see?

For as long as I have lived, I have been a natural spiritual seeker and a lover of learning. I have found God everywhere, and maybe especially in places that were not governed by rules or authority.

Every year, my grief lines up with Lent and Easter, with the turning of winter toward spring. The alignment intensifies things in a way that is both beautiful and overwhelming.

In these last months, I have been walking alongside some big transitions that are more adjacent to me than truly mine.

This winter finds me in a new micro-climate. Chinook winds blow up over the mountains, creating a rapid warming as the air comes down the other side.

I work in a retreat centre, where people come to find space for quiet, for reflection, for rest. It’s an extraordinarily peaceful (and beautiful!) place.

My prayer for Advent this year emerged out of an evening retreat, given by a colleague at the retreat centre where I work: “Jesus, move in me.”

Advent is calling. The Church new year begins not with resolutions and parties, but with a season of purposeful waiting.

My whole life, I have been a doer. I love to roll up my sleeves. Tackle a big job. Make things happen. I love this about me, and I think it is safe to say that others often appreciate it too. And, there are many times in life where that is neither my job nor what is needed.

Harvest is stretching into September on the Prairies. The labour is long awaited, bringing home what is hoped for and sustaining life for another year. This weekend, I surprised my daughter with a trip to one of her favourite places – the airport.