On burying a friend: learning to journey with others as a pastor
After graduating from Moncton High School, in the scenic coastal province of New Brunswick, I made my way to Loyalist College in Belleville, Ontario (another beautiful Canadian province). I was there for two reasons: one, to study police science with the hopes of a career in criminilogy or something along those lines; secondly, I was running - not in a physical sense, but probably in every other sense. I was running from loneliness and isolation I knew in my young life, caused by a myriad of reasons, among them the death of my father when I was 10. I was running from people I loved, from my roots, my family and friends; not because I didn't love them, but because love is hard. I was running from what I knew but never allowed myself to embrace. And, yes, I was running from the Lord. I first came to know of Jesus through reading the New Testament; this was a gift from the Gideons to me at the age of 10 shortly after I had started Grade 5. I read that New Testament most days and ev