Farewell may be a new beginning for beloved Rosebud couple
Laureen F. Guenther
Times Contributor
Performing in the 2011 Passion Play turned John Moerschbacher’s life around.
“I had pretty much lost all my faith in humanity,” he says. “The Passion Play restored a lot of the belief that I really wanted what (people) had to offer.”
The acting was so “hugely fun,” he attended Scout Week, a step toward enrolling in Rosebud School of the Arts (RSA).
“Not with the intention of applying for admission,” he says, “but because I wanted to prolong the fun. (But Scout Week) only increased my love of theatre.”
In August 2012, he and his wife Lynn left their jobs, rented out their Calgary home, and moved to Rosebud. John was a student again – in his 60s.
“It was no small thing,” John says. “But I was quite determined and Lynn was determined that if I was determined, she’d become determined too.”
Lynn took a job in Rosebud. They expected to stay four years. But in summer 2013, Lynn was laid off – so they couldn’t afford John’s second year of school.
Rosebud’s Thorny Rose Cafe asked them to take over as managers. John is “fast in the kitchen,” he says. Lynn’s strengths are “decorating, with making things pretty and inviting.”
More importantly, they wanted to “love on” the customers.
“We have a heart of hospitality,” Lynn says. “I know that it’s God’s love. It’s not my love that I love people so much … it’s God’s love. And when you see them with His eyes, you can’t help but reach out and cherish, from the littlest two-year-old to the granny.”
“What I’ve loved about the cafe,” John says, “is meeting so many people from so many different places. And being able to make their day special by being there, by talking to them … so in coming in, we just offered what we are, and what we had.”
“I know this last year and a half has made a difference for lots of people,” Lynn says. “We bless others but in turn we’re so, so very blessed … it’s been like we’ve had this great big family here.”
John also took RSA’s playwriting courses, and acted in half-a-dozen roles from Calgary to Edmonton.
But running a café “is a mountain of work,” he says. By the end of summer 2014, they’d worked four months of 70-hour weeks.
“We were at our end,” he says. “We took two weeks off and we couldn’t see straight.”
And none of John’s acting was in Rosebud.
“I came to the conclusion,” he says, “that my acting career … is best served in a larger center where there’s many different things to audition for.”
They decided they couldn’t run the cafe another summer. They’re moving back to Calgary. The café will continue under new management.
John will return full-time to his job at Rona, keep writing plays and doing acting auditions. Lynn will look for a job where she’ll keep making a difference.
“There’s lots of people that need loving on,” she says. “Lord, where do You have for me next?”
John says, “we also look forward to having some time where we can come out here and enjoy the things that we haven’t had time to enjoy, living and working here.”
But they’ll miss living here.
“The sweetest thing (about Rosebud) has definitely been the people,” he says. “The residents as well as the visitors, all of them … you get to be very close to people here … it will be hard. We’ll definitely miss that.”
Rosebud will miss them too.
“What they’ve given to the community is remarkable,” says Paul Muir, RSA’s education director. “Beauty and creativity run through Lynn as much as through John.
“In all kinds of ways, there’s been deep disappointment (for them here). But in that disappointment, they continued to give, give, give.
“Their future is bright. The dream that’s planted in John, it’s still unfolding … I don’t think John’s going to give up on the dream.
“Who knows what (their story) is going to look like? God takes us on a certain journey. We think it’s going to go a certain way. But God is taking it this way.”
John and Lynn remind each other that God has unknown opportunities ahead.
“God makes a way for everything. God’s grace is sufficient,” John says.
“This is not the end,” he says, quoting Winston Churchill. “It is not even the beginning of the end. It is perhaps, though, the end of the beginning.”