Volume 25 Issue 10

Amidst the darkness and uncertainties of the past year, there have been some gifts in this pandemic time. One of these gifts has been increased acknowledgement of the existence of mental-health challenges, and of the reality that, for many, this is a profound struggle.

To some, rest is a four-letter word. There are a myriad of reasons why people avoid sleep: some restrict it in a counterproductive attempt to increase work output; others devalue sleep for the preference of entertainment; still others are reluctant to acknowledge their limits and they push through when their body signals it’s time to sleep.

From 1992 to ’95 I worked at Rosthern (Sask.) Junior College as dean in the men’s dormitory. It was my first step away from the farm. I was 40 when I moved there, and the experience was rich and challenging. It was rich in that I was reminded that we are created in the holy image of God, that each one carries that core of goodness that waits to be recognized and affirmed.

It was the first Sunday of Advent and we had lit a single candle in our living room as part of our online worship service. Our Advent wreath was neatly set up on the coffee table, safely away from anything flammable, and our children are old enough to know to be careful with fire.

“Let us consider how we may spur one another toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the day approaching” (Hebrews 10:24-25).

What does biblical togetherness look like during a pandemic?

“It was not a sudden oh-my-goodness-what-are-we-going-to-do conver­sation,” says Liz Baerwald of her church’s decision to close. As she sees it, the conversation began more than a decade ago.

With one in five Canadians experiencing mental illness in any year, according to the Canadian Mental Health Association, it is likely that most people might be called upon to support a loved one with a mental illness. But many people are at a loss as to how.