The Spiritual Bond: Embracing Canada Over Conflict

As a lifelong Michigander and a Canadian in spirit, I’ve been blessed to live a life woven into the cultures of both regions. Canadians aren’t distant neighbors to me—they’re family. Their warmth, resilience, and quiet kindness have shaped who I am. I love their towering forests, rugged mountains, tranquil lakes, and rolling plains. I love the Great Lakes that bind us, the rivers flowing like lifeblood through the land. Above all, I cherish the spiritual connection I feel here—a bond that transcends borders and whispers of something eternal.

Lately, though, that bond has been eclipsed by pain and grief. The U.S. government’s portrayal of Canada as a villain – an adversary to be threatened with violent takeover – cuts me to the core. It’s not just rhetoric; it’s a betrayal of a sacred relationship. Canada isn’t a faceless entity; it’s home, refuge, inspiration. To see it demonized is a personal wound, unraveling the unity I’ve built in my heart over a lifetime.

This isn’t just my sorrow—it’s a broader injustice. The United States, a democracy fraying with division and distrust, turns outward instead of inward. We target Canada, a peaceful neighbor lacking the strength to resist. It’s cowardice, not strength, to exploit our power against the vulnerable—a failing nation cloaking its greed in bravado. Worse, we repeat this aggression with Panama’s jungles. We threaten Mexico’s deserts and Greenland’s icy expanses. Each threat is a fresh stain on our conscience. And then there’s Ukraine. We’ve abandoned it to face overwhelming odds alone, flexing our muscles elsewhere while a desperate ally falters. I’m ashamed of who we’ve become: a nation that bullies the weak and forsakes the suffering as our own house crumbles.

What makes this greed galling is its clash with our self-proclaimed Christian identity. We claim to follow Jesus—his teachings of humility, compassion, love for our neighbors. Yet where’s the humility in menacing Canada with domination? Where’s the compassion in leaving Ukraine to its fate while we chase selfish ambitions? The Christ I know spoke of turning the other cheek, caring for the least among us, seeking peace over power. Our actions reek instead of a lust for control—a betrayal of every sermon we’ve preached about moral superiority. This isn’t Christianity; it’s hypocrisy draped in false piety.

Canada, Panama, Mexico, and Greenland aren’t geopolitical pawns; they’re nations of people deserving dignity, not domination. I’ve walked Canada’s land, marveled at its waters, been welcomed by its communities—none of it ours to claim. I recall a crisp morning on Lake Superior’s shore. The mist rose like a prayer. It reminded me that true strength lies in coexistence, not coercion. Yet our threats sow fear where trust should flourish, division where solidarity should reign. This narrative, driven by conflict over cooperation, betrays the human and spiritual values that have long sustained us.

The fragility of this moment deepens my grief. Bonds forged through shared history and humanity are precious but not unbreakable. Watching us abandon Ukraine shows how easily we can lose what matters most. We are also menacing neighbors who wish us no harm. Still, I refuse despair. I hold fast to the love that ties me to Canada. The people there have embraced me. The landscapes restore me. The waters reflect our shared existence. That love gives me the strength to stand with them. We must unite against the hatred and fear tearing us apart.

We have a moral duty to reject this aggression. A nation struggling to uphold its own ideals has no right to force its will on others—least of all neighbors like Canada, Panama, and Mexico, or distant Greenland, whose peace should inspire us. We have no right to turn from Ukraine while claiming superiority. Instead, let’s reclaim the peace and understanding that define our better selves—values that echo the faith we profess. Let’s demand a shift: policies that prioritize partnership, voices that amplify the vulnerable, a discourse that heals rather than divides. Our shared humanity dwarfs any boundary or power play.

Reflecting on Canada’s beauty—and the dignity of all we’ve threatened—I’m filled with quiet determination. I cling to hope that compassion and reason will prevail, that we’ll stop painting Canada as a villain, stop menacing the defenseless, stop abandoning the suffering. I envision a day when we walk alongside others—not as tyrants in pious disguise, but as kin on a journey toward something better. In adversity, I find solace in the people, the land, the waters, and the spiritual thread uniting us. Together, we can rise above this pain, grief, and shame, building a future worthy of our highest calling.