All of my life I have felt called to serve, and I have spent a good deal of my life doing that in various ways, in whatever role I was in at the time. Then a few years ago, Archdeacon Peggy saw a deacon in me. It was at a time when I had just moved, my husband was retiring from being a musician, and I was happily in my stream of school and writing books.
Once I knew what a deacon was, I thought yes! I saw that in myself as well. I felt excited to share myself and my work with the Anglican church. But there was another part of me that was afraid. I’m not sure if I was as afraid as the disciples when Jesus told them the temple would be destroyed, but maybe close, because I knew that while my foundations would be destroyed and built up even better, there was one aspect of my life, that might never be the same.
I may have mentioned this or maybe you don’t know, but my Sḵwx̱wú7mesh family is from here, when I say here I mean the lower mainland, and Stanley Park in the Ancient village of X̱wáýx̱way (whoi whoi). Our family played a large role within the evolution of lower mainland but also suffered greatly at the hands of the Residential Schools and churches for generations. Still now, as I sit and those things reverberate in my DNA, I can feel the fear of the unknown, what will happen when Indigenous People learn of my call to be a part of the place that once injured and changed them forever. It is a fear only the words of Jesus can quell, especially when he says people will hate me because of him, but, in the next line I am saved,
“But not a hair of your head will perish. Stand firm…”
Luke 21:18-19
“You too, be patient and stand firm.”
James 5:8
And so, I do and when I do, fear is replaced with trust.
Jenn Ashton