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October 27, 2026 • 4 Minute Read
Daddy, I'm scared
Our youngest son has been doing some exposure therapy. For the last few weeks, our morning drive to daycare has taken on a bit of a different complexion. The air is chilling requiring different dress, the trees that flank the roads are exchanging their summer skin for their autumn glory, and what was formerly clean-cut grass has been draped in darkness. “Those spooky things are not good for me” he began saying from the backseat as ghosts and ghouls, warlocks and witches watched us pull into the neighbourhood. It’s almost Halloween, and he’s noticing. Aiden is a feeler. He’s a small boy with a large capacity for emotion. He covers his ears at loud sounds, conceals his eyes at scary sights, and is not shy to use his voice to say what’s going on in his heart. These things that he’s frightened of—bolts of lightning, monsters at night, witches on the road—he can’t hide from. He’s learning to face them. So on his daily walks with his classmates through the neighbourhood, he encounters the falltime decorations as they come. A bat hung on a limb, the Paw Patrol inflated and ready to roll, a demonic clown. Each step he takes under their gaze on the sidewalk is a step he takes towards the light. He’s learning that he doesn’t have to be afraid.
I’m afraid that the exposure has been a bit too effective, however, as yesterday his backseat voice called out excitedly, “Dad, that one is good for me! You love that one too, Dad.” I’m not afraid of all of these Halloween decorations, but I am curious about them. Why do we dress our homes in death? What does it profit us to intentionally stoke fear? I think we all have an innate sense of the supernatural. We live in a regrettably disenchanted world paved in concrete and laced with cynicism. We so desperately want to believe that the world is sacred and that there is something truly spiritual beyond what we can see that we go to great lengths to reach out and touch it, if only for a moment. We tell ghost stories around the campfire, we listen to true crime podcasts, we watch scary movies, we dress up for Halloween. I do believe there is a discerning line between what is good and what is evil, what is profitable and what is deplorable. That line is certainly not black and white or set in stone. Halloween itself was a day marked on the sacred calendar long before it was a contested day in cultural Christianity. In fact, the secular celebrations and decorations are rooted in ancient religious practice. Halloween, or All Hallows Eve, is the night that precedes a Christian holiday called All-Hallows, or All Saints Day. For over a thousand years, All Saints Day has been set apart to remember great saints who lived faithful lives and often died the death of a martyr. It’s why I’ve grown quite fond of the day. For each day this fall that the pumpkins dress our porch and the goblins dress those of our neighbours, I’ll revel in the opportunity to mock the powers and principalities of this world. Yes, I believe in demons and dark things. I’m convinced of the presence of things unseen. I don’t confess, however, that they have any power over my past, present, or future. We will not be afraid. I agree with the Creator of the cosmos that death has been defeated, and life everlasting is our inheritance. Nothing can steal or scare that away from me. So take heart, dear Christian. Do not be afraid. Mock the darkness, revel in the light. God is alive. Grace and peace,
Pastor Alexander
October 6, 2026 • 3 Minute Read
Who created this?
Glance at the sun. See the moon and the stars. Gaze at the beauty of earth’s greenings. Now, think. These words were written about a thousand years ago by a woman called Hildegard. She was a mystic visionary with eyes to see God in creation and a voice to tell of the glories she beheld. This weekend in our church community, Joy put on Hildegard’s mantle and encouraged us not only to think, but to tell of where we have recently seen the glories and goodness of God. Many of us chose to speak up and share of our experiences, and notably, every single testimony spoke of encountering God in the created world. You heard God’s voice in the loon’s call and felt His nearness in the monarch’s flutter. You saw His face in the setting sun and His glory in the clouds. The moon, the stars, and the maple trees all testified of His handiwork. It’s no coincidence that we see and experience God in the created world. The cosmos is His self-revelation. It’s been said that “Christ wears two shoes in the world: Scripture and nature. Both are necessary to understand the Lord, and at no stage can creation be seen as a separation of things from God." Creation is the manifest image of a creator God. The rocks cry out His praise. And so do we. Joy’s word to us didn’t end with, “Now, think.” That’s where it started. It ended with, “Now, say!” Think of the goodness of God, then speak your doxology. Give your glory sayings a voice! To be able to speak of what we’ve seen, we have to have first seen. If your vision of God feels cloudy and the evidence of His work seems hard to find, consider this evening practice. Tonight before you rest, pause for a moment of prayer. Give the time between turning off the screen and closing your eyes for sleep to God. Come to quiet, and acknowledge the presence of God. Breathe slowly and deeply. Inhale his love, exhale your hurry. Review your day like a film in your mind. Let each moment come to you—don’t stress or strive to remember them all—and as you see yourself move through the day that was, look for God. Where did I notice God? Where did God feel far off? Notice your emotions. Pay attention to what comes up, and let God meet you there. No emotion is unwelcome. Give your gratitude to God for all the things you received. Give your confessions to God for all the things you did or neglected to do. This type of evening prayer is called an examen, and it’s a good daily ritual to begin practicing. It will give you a shape for prayer when you don’t know what to say, it will heighten your awareness to God’s constant movement in your life, and it will grow your heart in gratitude to the Creator of all things. God, give us eyes to see and a voice to speak of all of your wondrous works. Grace and peace,
Pastor Alexander
September 22, 2026 • 3 Minute Read
How much is too much?
That’s a bit too much sugar in my tea. The music is a little too loud in this restaurant. I got too much sun on my skin today. How much is too much? In some ways, it’s the perennial question of our day. Not because we all have more than we need, but because the spirit of the air incessantly persuades us to believe that more stuff, more pleasure, more money, more of more will fill the God-shaped hole in our hearts. When the truth is, you already have everything you need. God, the giver of life, has given you the grace enough to survive. You are alive. In Him, through Him, by Him, and for Him, we live. We have all we need for being. Yet as we are living, it is imperative to know how much is too much. Gregory the Great calls it the great art to moderation. In all things, he suggests, the Christian should seek to live a life of balance. Not too far to the left, or not too far to the right. Not too high or too low. A moderate life, unable to be swayed to extremes in either direction, steady in step on the journey with God. It’s apt that St. Gregory calls this moderation an art, because it truly is a learned discipline that is formed over time to know how much is too much. We’re not born knowing. A five-year-old doesn’t intuitively know how much sugar is too much. A fifteen-year-old must be told how much screen time is enough. A fifty-year-old is still learning how much money they should seek to earn, keep, and give away. We will not stumble our way into mastering this art. This is true of every spiritual discipline. The question is not am I being formed, the question is what is forming me? This much is sure—we will either be formed on purpose or by osmosis. So consider this: begin the practice of regularly asking yourself, your closest friends, and those in your church community, how much is too much? By asking the question, we open ourselves to an answer. God is sure to meet us in our prayer with an answer, guiding us by his grace into learning how to live a moderate life. I imagine that we will find great joy, peace that lasts, and newfound liberation along the way. Grace and peace,
Pastor Alexander
September 8, 2026 • 2 Minute Read
A Blessing For A New School Year
For many people in our community, today marks the beginning of a new season. Students are going back to school, and littles are making their way there for the first time. Teachers are going back to work, and parents are adjusting to new family schedules. To navigate any transition like this, we turn to prayer. We commit our anxiety, our stress, and the rhythm of our entire lives to the Giver of life. Wherever you find yourself today, pause for this moment and prayer this blessing. The year is tilting
toward the start of school again,
but truth be told,
we’re not ready. We’re still hanging on to summer,
to the promise it held for
long-awaited connections and celebrations,
for refreshment for our bodies and souls
in water and sky and colour and sunlight,
and all those little moments given to us
where we could linger just a little longer. Now that it’s almost over,
we don’t want to let it go.
The beauty.
The freedom.
All that was life-giving. God, could you help us stretch it,
extend it,
and maybe even blend it
into this coming school year? Parents, students, teachers, all,
may your newly-structured days
breathe with creativity,
your new duties be infused with delight. As you write on those fresh new calendars
may you trust that your plans
are a lot like magic ink. Much may seem to disappear into obscurity,
but whatever is done in love will remain. (Kate Bowler)
September 1, 2026 • 2 Minute Read
Back to school!
Seasonal signposts In our Christian community, we’re committed to telling time by re-telling the story of Jesus. As the earth revolves around the sun, our storytelling revolves around incarnation, resurrection, and ascension. It’s sacred time, yet our lives are also marked on a secular calendar. You know the signposts—fire works on New Years, camping on long weekends, and back to school. For many, this is the last weekend of summer. Teachers in our community will go back to work, students will go back to study, and our rhythm of life will evolve with the season once again. This weekend at church we want to mark the moment. We’ll graduate some of our kids into their next level of children’s church, our college-aged young adults are hosting a bake sale, and we’ll have a bouncy castle and ice cream after the service. Also, Rebecca and Alexander will report from the mission field, sharing about their summer trip to Uganda. Thursday, September 3rd 🙏 Join us every Thursday at 1:00pm in the sanctuary for prayer. Bring your own prayer requests, your prayers for others, and your willingness to be formed through the practice of prayer. Sunday, September 6th 📚 Back to school Sunday! Bouncy castle, ice cream, bake sale, and more.New here? We'd love to connect. Community Prayer We are a people of prayer. Here’s what we’re praying for this week: 🙏 Students – For all of the school-aged learners in our community, pray that God would calm their anxieties and give them the courage to go back to school. 🙏 Teachers – For the teachers in our church community, and in the schools in our community at large, pray that God would guide them in their vocation, leading young people into wisdom like God leads all of his children. Submit your own prayer request here. Giving Your generosity makes our work in Niagara possible. We’re so grateful for you.Give Now Here Stay Connected 📩 Subscribe to this Collection to get these updates delivered directly to your inbox. 📸 Follow us on Instagram 💬 Pastoral care or questions? Connect with us here. Services: Sundays @ 10:30am
384 Concession 7 Rd., Niagara on the Lake
July 31, 2026 • 2 Minute Read
Home sweet home
And just like that, we’re home Well, it wasn’t quite just like that. We left Uganda at midnight on Monday, flew through the night, and then boarded our cross-Atlantic flight to finish the final leg. All in all, our travels were great. It’s good to be home. We were not extended the grace that we were hoping for by the Minister of Health, so we’ll be quarantining at home for the next 21 days. If you have any creative ways to tell a two-year-old why he can’t go to the park, be sure to let us know. Asher asked out of habit for me to do a “snake check” before playing in the backyard, but besides that, our adjustment to being home has been effortless. Over the next few weeks we’ll certainly be reflecting on our summer in Uganda. One of the very first things that comes to mind when we think about our time away is how grateful we are for you—our friends and family who believed in us, prayed for us, and invested in our journey with Jesus to Africa. When we think about you, there’s a line that comes to mind by a missionary of old. She said, "I am carried on the shoulders of those who cannot see the landscape I describe. I owe them far more than my weight." We’ll do our best to continue to describe the things that we’ve seen, but we wouldn’t have seen them if it wasn’t for you. We owe you. To those of you who are helping us get through these next few weeks through food and favours and simple text messages, thank you too. We’ll see you soon. Grace and peace.
Alexander, Rebecca, Asher & Aiden