#16 Toronto: Following Directions into the Mosh Pit

It can be a little intimidating for a couple of country bumpkins like us to head into a mosh pit like Toronto.  But we've been called to pray around Canada and a lot of Canadians live in Toronto.  Conventional wisdom would say that if you DO have to pray through Toronto in a lumbering old motorhome, stay on the freeways and let Google Maps guide you through.  But we've noticed that Google and the Holy Spirit don't always choose the same route.

The first time we went to visit Bill and Donna was to ask them an important question.  Are Patty and I meant to get married?  We knew they heard directly from God and wanted to get the inside scoop.  Bill's answer after an hour of listening for guidance?  "I didn't hear anything.  All I felt was praise."  From that I learned a lesson that has stayed with me my whole life and into our present journey:  God never promised to show us the end. He's not a fortune teller. He only promised to lead us.

Now, four decades later, we were going to visit our friends for the second time.  Bill and Donna have been pastoring an inner-city church in Toronto for 30 years.  If they could do that, surely we could haul our clumsy conveyance off the 401 and onto the side streets of Canada's largest city. We wanted to encourage them and guessed that it would go both ways.  We boondocked our rig on a Loblaws parking lot and then spent the evening eating roast beef and hearing stories of God touching the outcasts of society.  When we told the Dyck's that we were planning to visit our nephew the next morning on Queen's, Donna's reaction surprised us.  "You can't do that. That's a really bad area.  If you take your RV there, there won't be anything left of it."

In my heart I knew we had no choice.  Our Good Shepherd pursued a little lamb he loved through some treacherous crevasses.  Were we going to chicken out now?  It turns out that Donna knew what she was talking about.  And scarier than the occupants of the neighborhood, was trying to negotiate our 25' of motorhome - with hitch basket and bike rack past that - through the narrow streets of Alphonse's neighborhood.  

We drove and walked in areas I had only read about: Kensington Market, Cabbage Town, Yonge Street, Bay Street.  We shared Gus Tacos and laughter and wisdom with our nephew before dropping him off.  As we pulled onto the street in front of his home, Alphonse madly waved us to stop.  Somewhere on a tight turn my bikes on the back must have hit something (and I prayed it wasn't a person.)  Now the bikes were broken, crooked and coming off the rack.  With several attempts over several blocks, moving on when I was blocking traffic or getting away from a drugged-up woman yelling at me  with Patty running interference, I frantically tried to make repairs and secure my load.

I'm not sure what the whole episode did to my blood pressure or how many non-grey hairs I have left, but that's where our divine GPS had led us.  And thinking about it after we had cleared Toronto city limits and my heart had stopped racing, I don't think I would have picked a different route.  It felt like we had to go into the mosh pit to pray for the people there.


Popular posts from this blog

#1 A Single Step

Image
Laozi said that ‘the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step’. In our case, the journey of 32,000 kilometers started with a date ... at the James Ave Pumphouse Food & Drink in Winnipeg. Adventures are my thing - not Patty’s. Her perfect holiday is visiting family at the end of a tried and familiar path. I thrill to the unknown. Our common ground is wanting to make our lives worthwhile. To walk by God’s leading. So when I get the idea for an adventure (and this happens regularly), the first litmus test to differentiate between a ‘Terry sparkler’ and ‘Divine calling’ is Patty’s response. I have learned that a good presentation doesn’t hurt my cause so I picked the setting carefully. The tables at the Pumphouse overlook a century-old collection of giant pipes and pumps – still covered in original grease. These were used to move Red River water to distant hydrants for fire-fighting. A restaurant with a combination of history (my love) and good food (Patty’s). P...
Read more

#2 The Forks, Winnipeg: Iau Descends

Image
It felt to me like we were standing on holy ground. Probably the same feeling I’d get if I was to visit the location where Moses saw the burning bush and where the tribes of Israel gathered around the base of Mt. Sinai to feel God descending with shaking and thunder and smoke. If I’ve put together the clues correctly, something very similar seems to have happened at the Forks. On the Mountains of the Prairie, On the great Red Pipe-Stone Quarry, Gitche Manito, the mighty, He the Master of Life, descending, On the red craigs of the quarry, Called the tribes of men together. From his footprints flowed a river, Leaped into the light of morning, O’er the precipice plunging downward Gleamed like Ishkoodah, the comet. And the Spirit, stooping earthward, With his finger on the meadow Traced a winding pathway for it, Saying to it, “Run in this way!” An indication that something special had happened here first came to light when an Anishinaabe elder approached Sid Kroker, the head archaeolog...
Read more

#4 Dominion City MB: That’s a Bit Audacious!

Image
A few people tagged along on the first leg of the journey from The Forks to Dominion City. We were hungry and I had promised a special lunch, but first I wanted to tell three stories from local lore. Countess of Dufferin In 1877, t ogether with her husband, the Governor General of Canada, the Countess of Dufferin was visiting Manitoba for diplomatic reasons. I hope she brought her rail-working clothes because she was roped into pounding in the first spike on the first railway in Western Canada. When finished, it would connect Winnipeg with St. Paul, MN. Having done the deed , the Countess and the Governor General boarded a paddlewheeler heading south up the Red River on their way home. En route they passed another paddlewheeler heading north and carrying the Countess of Dufferin. Confused? This particular C of D was a locomotive named after the lady in the other boat. They waved at each other (actually I’m not sure about that) never to see each other again. T he locomotive ...
Read more