The fine art of shadow casting

Today I write from a cafe in Toronto, where the wireless internet flows fast and free. I have been in the GTA (Greater Toronto Area) for a little over a week now, and have a few more days to go before returning to St. Stephen. It has been a very amazing time here, and the full implications of that amazingness have not yet been revealed to me.

In my Southern Ontario swing thus far I have renewed my friendship with some old friends, made new friends, and continued enjoying the company of those with whom I had not ceased to be friends.

Also along the way I attended a Youth Summer Camp, as a Counsellor. That was a tremendous experience to say the least. I saw some kids who had no reason in their hearts to believe that God was real, or that he loved them, become completely transformed by the week's end. Today they have gone back to high school and have had to come to grips with the fact that God is real, loves them very much, and also loves their friends and family very much (who may have a hard time accepting the new world-view that has been adopted).

So in my last post I commented on how my life was linked to a particular tree in my Grandfather's yard. Well, to carry on the metaphor just a little longer, the tree is pretty much stationary, but as the sun moves across the sky the shadow moves along the ground, first very long to the west, then shorter, shorter still, then very long to the east, then it ceases to exist as the sun sets and all shadows become one.

Then at the prescribed time, decided by the earth's axis, and speed of rotation, the sun rises again, causing the tree to cast a long shadow to the west.
I think the metaphor is limitted in that I often choose where and when I cast a shadow on people and places in this life. But I cast no shadow whatsoever without the sun shining in the sky. And as we know, the sun shines on the wicked and the just alike, so I make no claims as though I cast a shadow and others do not. We all do.

But there is a secret that I am learning, and that is the fine art of shadow casting. Maneouvering one's body and limbs in just the right way, at just the right time, one can cast a shadow of a shape, or symbol, or figure that could mean something to someone. In my time back in Toronto I have learned that I have cast many an interesting shadow here, and that people remember the shapes I have made.

It's humbling, but it's also amazing.
What kind of shadow are you casting? Are you providing shade for those who have been worn out by life? Or are you blocking out the sun for those who desperately seek its rays?