One Church Many Tribes Review

Though I’ve titled this a ‘review,’ it’s more of a reflection on the book “One Church Many Tribes: following Jesus the way God made you” by Richard Twiss (Taoyate Obuajin, of the Rosebud Lakota/Sioux).

“One Church, Many Tribes” was published in 2000; and author Richard Twiss has since died.

Through the pages of this book, he voiced his dream to see indigenous peoples encouraged to worship God through their own forms of music and dance; and to see the Western/white church welcome many indigenous Christian leaders.

The first of these dreams has been coming true over the last few decades.

The modern missions movement has embraced the idea of seeing God worshiped through a variety of cultural expressions, with an emphasis on fulfilling Revelation 7:9: “After this I saw a vast crowd, too great to count, from every nation and tribe and people and language, standing in front of the throne and before the Lamb.”

Unfortunately, though, it seems his dream of multiple indigenous Christians being welcomed as leaders and important voices has yet to happen. I am only familiar with three indigenous Christians who have influenced the Western church: Richard Twiss, Terry LeBlanc, and Randy S. Woodly.

This book’s most encouraging chapters, I found, are the final two. One tells the story of the World Christian Gathering of Indigenous People. And the other explores how First Nations have a window to preaching the gospel in countries hesitant to trust Christians; thanks to a global fascination with them as a people.

I recommend this book to any Christian who’s interested in learning more about the ways God is using indigenous peoples to impact and build his Church.

The Locust

Time for another bug post!

Did you know that, once upon a time, we had locusts in Canada?

Every year, there comes a season in our region - Northeast British Columbia - where grasshoppers seem abundant. As you walk through town, every several steps, you disturb one and send it hopping across the sidewalk; crashing into storefront windows; or flying into the street.

I watched videos of a desert locust swarm. It became hauntingly apparent from those clips that our “abundance” of grasshoppers is… nothing. A desert locust swarm is, as the Bible so poignantly puts it, an army. Forceful. Purposeful. Crowded.

But… can you believe we once had swarms like that in parts of Canada and the United States? A species called the Rocky Mountain Locust plagued prairie farmers until it’s sudden disappearance in 1902.

Some scientists (perhaps the ones fascinated by grim history and horror stories) suggest our locust isn’t extinct: just dormant in a non-swarming form. That’s one funny trait locusts have: they switch between swarming and non-swarming forms, and the two are so biologically different they seem to be different species.

I’ve put together a little storyboard about locusts and the people affected by them! Click the far right image to move forward, and the far left to move backwards.

f you’d like to help people suffering from locust plagues and other food crises, organizations like World Vision have a special fund set aside for such problems.

True Canadians

Before last year, I don’t believe I ever stopped to think deeply about racism.

That may sound odd. After all, I dealt with an openly racist character in Kingdom of Bats, and The Quest and The Loss are largely about interracial interactions. It’s not as though the topic hasn’t crossed my mind.

However, I haven’t deeply thought about how it’s relevant to my life here in Canada.

Canada, in theory, embraces multi-ethnicism, and holds our Native population in highest regard. So being “racist” is, generally speaking, uncool. Doesn’t happen.

…Right?

I’d been thinking and praying about racism after the death of George Floyd, when someone said something to me that caught me off guard.

“I’m not racist,” she assured me. “But can’t they find any REAL Canadians to do (such and such a job around our community)?”

I hadn’t noticed before that the workers looked East Indian. Not because I don’t notice race, but because (admittedly) I tend not to notice people, period.

Somehow, if all the workers were white, I don’t think she’d have been so quick to assume they were recent immigrants… or declare them not “real Canadians.”

Since that event, I’ve been on a quest to learn more: I’ve collected books on racial justice for our church library; worked through some of the resources provided by an organization called “Be the Bridge;” and continued praying about the topic.

It’s a journey that I’m glad I decided to take.

I’ve actually found it’s been a great boost to my faith.

One thing that amazed me was discovering the passionate Christian leaders among African-Americans and Aboriginals. Many Christians who leave the church do so because they can’t stand the church’s hypocrisy. Yet, here are people who have suffered under some of the church’s greatest hypocrisies, and their Christian faith has endured, even thrived.

I’ve found that the story of the Israelite’s exodus from slavery takes on greater meaning when preached by an African-American. God giving Israel a specific land to call home becomes special when seen through a First Nations perspective. And many of Jesus’ actions and words take on greater meaning when viewed from a Jewish cultural context.

There’s a lot we can learn from people who have a different history and perspective.

Handling Crisis Part 2

To think: the year 2020 will be over in just a few weeks.

A lot has changed over the course of this year. I know I’ve gained a new perspective on life. One for which I’m not ungrateful.

This year has brought both pain and joy for me: the sadness of events surrounding the pandemic and the sense of unrest; and the joy of my new baby girl.

When all the craziness of 2020 started, I hoped to come through this year with greater wisdom and strength. And I believe I have gained both.

I was reminded that prayer can be more than an activity I pursue on the side. If I’m more intentional about it, it can change me, my priorities, and how I see the world. Maybe it can even change the world itself.

Racism wasn’t really on my radar before. Thanks to this year, I’ve realized I spent my time thinking about cultures far away, and forgetting that other cultures live alongside my own. Cultures practiced by people who, quite fairly, can feel sidelined, ignored, or unheard.

What to do with that knowledge… I’m still learning.

I feel like this year has marked the start of a new journey for me. Maybe some of you feel the same way.

I could go on, but I believe I’ve rambled enough for now. I’ll leave with this final note…

Fsjcritters

For the last few years, I’ve been casually working on a series of designs for a project I called “fsjcritters.”

The goal of fsjcritters was to draw attention to often-overlooked animals and habitats in the Fort St John area, using visuals like brochures, cards, and infographics.

My hope was that I would learn to embrace the wildlife where I live, instead of always wishing I lived somewhere else.

I believe I’ve succeeded in that. Though I consider the designs less responsible for my change of attitude than my husband, who loves many local critters and has inspired me with his passion!

So, I’ve decided to officially end this project.

As a part of saying “farewell” to fsjcritters, I’ve decided to create a condensed, ‘sampler’ version of my designs over the years.

Does this mean I won’t be creating any more designs about local wildlife? I might yet. I’ve just found myself making other types of designs lately. Designs I’ll hopefully be sharing on my website before too long.

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Distractions 2020

The cards for the game I invented arrived!

I should explain…

When I first became a writer for the video game team Soltorch Games, I felt out of my league. Someone recommended to me “Slay the Dragon” (by Robert Denton Bryant), a book about writing for video games.

One of the exercises the book suggests is creating a (simple) board game, to learn about how game mechanics work.

I decided to go with a card game instead, and… well… I turned a simple exercise into a chance to stretch myself creatively.

It couldn’t take that long to invent a card game, right?

After several months of play-testing with family, adjusting the mechanics, designing and re-designing the cards in Canva, I ordered my deck through Make Playing Cards. And they look amazing! “The Bug Zoo Game” now feels like an official card game!

So… what did I learn about making video games through this exercise?

Well, honestly… I guess I learned that, if you want to write for a video game, you should probably spend more time writing, and less time turning a simple exercise into a months-long project.

But it was lots of fun!

I’m not sure I’ll be creating another card game anytime soon, though I’m glad I gave this one a try. Between this project and the designs I’ve been doing lately, maybe I haven’t been spending as much time on writing as I could. But I think I needed the break, to try something new.

Paper Wasp Part 2

Paper Wasp forced her wings to flap, and she took to the air, abandoning her half-started nest. I will find myself some food, and lay down under a rock. And I will sleep, for as long as I can.

And when she woke up? I don’t know what I’ll do then.

She thought of the grasshoppers: always taking, always happy, never crying.

She thought of the scorpion: never trying, never failing, always fine.

And she thought of the ant: always practical, always confident, never praying.

Maybe, she thought, maybe I’m just the saddest, silliest, and stupidest of all creatures. Maybe, if I’m lucky, my life will end before tomorrow. Then, I’ll never have to wonder again if creating is worthwhile or beauty is real.

Her wings took her deep into the forest, past tree after tree.

She’d told herself she was looking for food, though her eyes never landed on anything. Instead, she gazed into the air before her, unthinking. Mindlessly, she flew on and on.

Soon, she’d gone deeper into the forest than she’d ever been.

Her heavy heart weighed her down, until at last, she could go no further. She landed on the ground, numb to her surroundings.

Paper Wasp sat there silently. A long time or a short time, she didn’t know. But after a time, she heard a Voice whisper through her mind.

“Get up,” the Voice encouraged. “Get up, and finish your nest.”

Is that you, God? She wondered. She remembered the ant’s words and thought scornfully: It could just be in my head, my own imagination playing tricks on me.

“Get up,” the Voice said again. “Get up, and finish your nest.”

“Why bother?” Paper Wasp replied aloud. “The world is owned by the people who take, not the people who build. Someone will just come and destroy all the hard work I’ve done.”

“Get up,” the Voice said. “Get up, and finish your nest.”

“But who needs a nest?” Paper Wasp argued. “I could live wherever I feel like it, free of cares and free of work. If I don’t bother trying, I won’t ever fail.”

“Get up,” the Voice said. “Get up, and finish your nest.”

“How do I know that I’m not just talking to myself?” She retorted.

Her mind filled with silence. Even the air around her felt still and empty. She waited there a moment, unsure what to do next.

I can’t live like this, she realized. What would be better? Should I sit around and soak in my anguish, wondering whether creating is silly, work is worthwhile, and beauty is real? Or should I get up and try to build my nest some more?

So she forced herself up, and flew out to gather some wood. She chipped away at a tree, then took back her bit of wood to her nest, and worked on another layer of paper.

Paper Wasp worked until the sun set that day. Weary, she settled down for the night.

When the sun rose again, she took in a deep breath of the new air. The new day didn’t cheer her sad heart. But she determined: I will press on.

So she made another layer of paper, and another. As she did, her sadness faded into the back of her mind. She focused on her work, on making her nest beautiful.

At last, she finished her job. She flew in circles around her nest, examining it from every angle.

“It is good,” she decided. And she felt a hint of joy slip into her tired heart. Then, she settled down to sleep.

She didn’t notice that a human had been watching her work. He stared at her intently as she chipped wood and molded her paper.

“What a useful thing, this wasp’s paper,” the man said to himself. “Useful, and beautiful. I wonder if I could make some of my own…”

And so, mankind learned the art of paper-making from the Paper Wasp. Yet, the Paper Wasp probably never learned how she changed the course of human history. She only continued to do what she was made to do.