Going Grey in May

Some might suggest that one month is no more stressful than another, and thus change in hair colour is independent of season and time. I believe, as I watch life roll by, and have had children and grandchildren who like to change their hair colour, like others would change their seasonal attire, hair colour might in fact be seasonal.  I digress. My thoughts today are not about hair colour at all; the theme of this collection of thoughts is about BRAIN CANCER.

I have been reminded, as I occasionally mention or post about Brain Cancer, that it is not the “only” type of cancer out there, and it is important to be praying for all who are struggling as survivors in the midst of this terrible disease. That is so true; any type of cancer is terrifying to say the least, and can manifest itself as a reminder that life is fragile at the best of times. Yet, my thoughts are mostly aimed at a person who has Brain Cancer. He is my son.

Ben is strong, talented in so many ways, and has a love for life and helping others. He is opinionated, feisty, up to argue his point on design and construction method and most of all highly respected for his wide variety of knowledge and skill sets, in a vast array of fields. He has tried his hand at many things and guess what… he happens to be good at all of them. He hadn't had many challenges in life that have slowed him down or stumped him, until one night in 2010 when he had a major seizure. He might have had some slight ones previous to this that he was not aware of, but not like this one. He was quickly diagnosed with a tumor and he immediately began to make decisions to meet it “Head On”. That is my Ben… a no nonsense guy who sees life as a set of challenges, and walks toward them with strength and courage that amazes me to no end. If he has weak moments, they are "his" weak moments, not shared with the world.

It seems that most or all types of cancer, here in North America, have special months. With the advent of ribbons as a sign of respect and honour, cancer awareness soon took up their use and different colours signify the various types of cancer. Grey is the colour of the Brain Tumor and their Cancer Ribbon. My wife and daughters are wearing grey this month. My youngest daughter posts her grey apparel each morning in support of her brother. Both of my daughters and my wife have painted their fingernails grey. I am wearing grey most days as well, but I am not as consciously dedicated to its use. You see I have a problem, not major, but nevertheless, I struggle.

I love my son dearly, but I also care very much about all who are facing the diagnosis and prognosis of the various types of this disease. I pray for over 20 people daily who are either close family or friends, who are cancer patients and survivors. If I know this many people who have cancer, how many people are actually suffering from this disease just in our area? Many, many more I fear, are out there; silently suffering and living a daily existence that even their family and friends cannot fully understand. They live from day to day, MRI to MRI, Dr.’s appointment to Dr.’s appointment, with a regime of treatments, antibiotics, anti-seizure meds and stomach pills to fight off further complications. Treatments meant to heal often harm the system and their resulting problems can lead to further medical treatments that take time, energy and human resources, not to mention further monetary stress to the patient.

So while “Go Grey in May” is a call to a particular type of cancer, and the desire to bring awareness so that more and greater research can be done to fight the disease and bring a cure… every month needs to be important. One month out of twelve doesn’t cut it for me. I want a resolution now and a 30 day barrage, even though it is better than none, seems rather lack-luster against the need for focused and non-biased research toward a cure for Cancer.  The point is, “big business” may trend toward high priced ways to prolong life, ending in expensive chemicals that while touted as the only way, are just another mere patch, and the real concern is for profits, not cures. That is my opinion!!!

I want my son, my family members and friends, to be as important every month, from the perspective of research for a “Cure”, as they are to us as part of our lives and families. My hair is turning grey… can that be a badge of awareness of how this disease “Brain Cancer” is affecting me, as my heart aches so badly every day, and I am not the one who is afflicted.

My son, Ben, walks towards the edge every day now. Every day there are new challenges, new things to confront his strength and courage, but there are also those things that bring great joy and pleasure while on the journey. I can only be aware and prepared, as my greatest joy is being by his side while a new project is undertaken and finds completion. I smile at the curious new takes he finds on living and approaching ideas and structure in life. His mind swirls with ideas, plans and while most are aimed at his future, some are directed at me. I get tidbits of reality check and not a day goes by that he doesn’t remind all of us that struggle is just a word.

I see that in all those for whom I am praying. Some have been in the battle a long time, while others are new and still trembling from the news. All are important… not all are grey for May… each day is part of the battle and each month is one month more to await a true cure.

So, we are going grey, in our family, in May… each in our own way, but we feel the stress of others as they wear the colour representing their cancer, for their month of importance. It is another walk to the edge, a much different edge perhaps this month, but nevertheless, we are not alone. God walks with my Ben and he walks with so many more who have turned their lives daily to the God who creates and sustains… even in the midst of this illness… that terrible and horrifying word… “Cancer!”

It Is All In The Message… Or InThis Case, The Lyrics..Or Is It?

I have been struggling over the past hour or so about whether to write today or not. I have put together my thoughts about the post of a very interesting song, performed by a group known as Boyzone.  I am posting some of my thoughts only as a basic statement of reasoning, as to how I see the folly in our first glance acceptance of some media, especially if it sounds catchy or upbeat, while having a pseudo-Christian flavor.
If you are familiar with my writing at all, you will know that I am wordy.  I try to think through things systematically, because I too have been found wanting and unworthy myself many times.  My only intention is to try to help others to avoid the traps that life can bring. If I can help one person evaluate life, reflect on their purpose, and find God’s true meaning in giving us life, I try to do so.

I have no right to judge, other than from the perspective of what Scripture directs about our duty in love, to question the validity of things sometimes. I guess we are to judge what is right or correct, in clearer terms, as a gauge for living, that we might reflect both God’s love and His desire for our purpose in Him. We are taught to love everyone, but also in doing so to follow the lines of delineation that separate us from the sin that might mask itself behind twisted truths. This means to protect our hearts and minds form Satan’s ploys, while serving those who are the downtrodden and lost, or in the activity of ministry through testimony and teaching. Losing one’s self in the work can be a dangerous folly with tragic results. The story of the betrayal by Judas begs the great example, while the folly of Peter’s denial of Christ shows how easy it is to be drawn away by circumstance. These men are two examples of the frailty of the human spirit. While one was used of Satan for God’s purpose in what is judged as a truly distasteful event, (I know beyond our human understanding!), the other tripped on his own fear and confusion (we somehow judge as a more accepted recklessness) and was used in a totally different manner for God.

So, I have been stewing on the song that was posted and many others like it. “Boyzone”, has a magical influence on their listeners. But is magical enough, or does it turn our heart away from where God wants us to be? The message of the song they sang in the post has a very deliberate duality in its presentation. The use of language and its influence in all audiences can be very leading to say the least. From the perspective of the novice, (Careful here for sure…. As I don’t want to be misunderstood) when their listening ear hears words like God, faith, belief and the particular phrase they used, “If only prayers were answer…”, it would be easy to equate this to be a song with a Spiritual base in God’s grace, but it is nevertheless, as you listen and read the lyrics, only of small “s” spiritual… based not in God’s mercy and grace, but that of self reliance and one’s own tenacity and ability.

The world today is filled with pitfalls, and it seems that even Boyzone had its own tragedy when one of its members, Stephen Gately, was found dead while he and his husband Andrew Cowles were on vacation. We live in such a mishmash of influences and it is always hard to know how lenient we are to be with our belief, knowing that we are bashed from every side with lobbyists who while heralding the anti-Christian flags, lift high the idea and importance of being “politically” correct, over being “Spiritually” correct. It is hard for most young people to find a track that meets both God and man’s acceptable standards. Today we tread a similar path that the Israelites trod, as they moved slowly toward their freedom from slavery, and finally the Promised Land. They wanted God, but had an idol of “human” need fashioned, rather than wait for both God’s directives, and direction, for their future.

I wonder sometimes about how far we can stretch Christ’s directive to His disciples, found in Luke 9:48-50. This portion of scriptures is often used far out of context, beyond its intended purpose. Here Jesus is telling his disciples to not stop those outside of their own group, stating, “For anyone who is not against you is for you.” It is nearly impossible for us today to get to the root of the full understanding of Christ, of things around him, other than His being both God and man, dwelling among us. For the disciples, the stress caused by watching someone else using Christ’s power in miraculous ways, was disconcerting to say the least. What is important here, is not the disciples understanding of what was taking place, but Christ’s ability to acknowledge what the circumstances of the event, that the disciples were then judging, really was.

In today’s social upheaval, with Satan's struggles to keep humanity in his preferred alignment, away from faith and toward destruction, we as Christians need to be vigilant in our survey of what is both meaningful and healthy in our ingestion of many hidden messages in sheep’s clothing. In a study back in the 1960’s (I covered it in a course I took in my post-graduate work) it was found that subliminal messages could be sent via mass-media, which would affect the watchers/listeners toward almost any action or reaction. (No!!!… This is not a conspiracy theory about governmental control… not as most would see it! This government control is of a spiritual nature.) In the study, which tested people’s reaction to subliminal content, there were commercial messages for certain food and drinks, placed in between numbered frames of movies in drive-in theatres. The reaction was found to be phenomenal. People rushed to the food kiosks at an amazing rate during intermission. What they found, caused the limitation of advertising to that being only non-subliminal, but did little to stop the flow of its use in how the presentation of subliminal messaging could be used, both covertly and overtly, in all forms of media, including advertising itself, following the governmental regulations that ensued.

One must be cautious not to overstate the obvious. Any overstatement can create an avalanche of recrimination against any facet of social media, including Christian music itself. It is said that the foundation of many of our “Old Faithfulls” of the past, are known to be found with non-Christian origins, having their melodies taken from the popular ancient tunes from the pubs of European society. Many the old hymn has brought men, women and children to their knees in repentance before Christ, so it is folly to throw stones at too many glass houses, I realize. The message of music is not only stimulating; when used overtly, but as stated can be a powerful motivator towards repentance and salvation.

An ol’ time preacher once stated that it was easy to bring a soul to repentance… it is far more difficult to keep them safe and secured in Christ. We hear the heralding of the benefits of more music and less sharing of the “word” in Churches today. People through the ages have always preferred music over preaching and so the seats of the church sanctuaries are oft filled with the “core groups”, those who are the mainstay of the church, and our deliberation of who they are and why they attend are left to God’s judgment, and not man’s; though those outside are oft too quick to judge that group for themselves.

“The CONTEXT, the CONTEXT”, comes the cry from the heralds of academia. When the music of faith is sung in glory to God, and not “man”, as it seems was the case for the driving out of demons, as Jesus saw it; and in the context of satisfying God’s directive to teach, preach and testify to the new creation in Christ, and what He accomplished on the cross for mankind; it makes all the difference. So, I worry about what is being presented and accepted by even true believers by times. We are all so easily both influenced and affected by what can still be a subliminal means of misleading and misdirecting us away from the true message of God’s Word.  What is most important I think, should be what He has, and is accomplishing, even today for His glory and here we must take caution in our evaluation of praiseworthiness. So our eagerness to subject most things to scrutiny before God should become not just important but an everyday exercise, for our good and the good of others.

I am, as I stated, not the best judge, as I myself am judged daily by God, but I try to consider the end results of all that is happening; as I view even more closely the end, and what that holds for all of us. I pray that as we listen, watch and absorb information of all types, even from the pews/seats of our churches, we might check the foundations of its content and meaning in accordance with God’s Word, and for our lives.
Sometimes the walk to the edge is not what or where we expect it to be. Today I am reminded that I am near the edge now; how close only heaven knows, but I am nevertheless getting closer each day. My perspective is just that, mine. But, if you go there with God, in Christ Jesus, you often find things that you are not expecting. The key is not letting go of God’s hand. Let His Spirit guide you, and the view from there can be uplifting, while also un-nerving by times… But God is there with you. Why not go there and see for yourself, if you are not there already! I am praying for you!

I leave you with this message that St. Peter wrote: 2 Peter 3:14-16 Living Bible (TLB)

14 Dear friends, while you are waiting for these things to happen and for him to come, try hard to live without sinning; and be at peace with everyone so that he will be pleased with you when he returns.
15-16 And remember why he is waiting. He is giving us time to get his message of salvation out to others. Our wise and beloved brother Paul has talked about these same things in many of his letters. Some of his comments are not easy to understand, and there are people who are deliberately stupid, and always demand some unusual interpretation—they have twisted his letters around to mean something quite different from what he meant, just as they do the other parts of the Scripture—and the result is disaster for them.

What Is There About The Number Three?

People down through the years have often stood by old sayings. Have you noticed that? For instance there is the forecasting of weather. My mother used to say that you could tell when it was going to rain by what the ants did. As we sat on the steps on good days, and watched the various insects, birds and animals throughout the various seasons, Mom would point out what was taking place. She was passing on the information that I suspect was both her experience and that which was told her by others.

The work of the ants was always curious to me. I never wanted an ant farm, but how they labored was always a curious thing. Some mornings as we ventured out to play, it was easy to notice the small mounds that were formed around their holes in the walks and driveways. I am sure that most people have seen them and will have heard the explanation for their work. Mom would say that it was a sign of coming rain. The ants would build these little dikes around their holes to keep the water out. I thought it was quite ingenious… so a stitch in time saves nine. The work they did in preparation would do a lot towards saving them from repairs later on.

Certain times of the year the birds reacted differently. Come early fall we would watch some varieties gather on the power and telephone lines; starting with a few then in large bunches stretching across several lines sometimes. They would form into flocks as they prepared to go south for the winter. And in the spring the work of gathering material for new nests began, or the refurbishing of older nests to be reused, took a priority and we soon heard that a mother’s work was never done.

This is my dog Kea but Dad used to tell of an old dog that they had named Bunny. I am not sure of the breed, but it seemed to be a typical family dog from what I can remember of the stories. She used to lie around the house as that is quite typical of most dogs, when there is not much happening. Dad used to tell of the antics of the dog, as her daily routine began to follow the course of family life as she aged. One particular trait, which I have read about and heard from others, is the ability to tell time by events within the family they belong to. Well Bunny was that kind of dog. Dad said that his mother would tell of the dog getting up from the mat in the late afternoon, where she lay all day, and stretch and want to go outdoors. She would make her rounds and then about 10 minutes before my Dad would be coming home from work, Bunny would make her way to the front gate to await his arrival and greet him… always happy to see him home again. Dog, has always been man’s best friend.

Now to this point I have stuck with insects, birds and finally animals. I suspect that by this time there is the feeling arising that I have digressed again. Well, I haven’t; I am just enjoying the thoughts that come to mind about those old sayings and how we both receive them, and how they affect our everyday lives.  Not all of those old sayings are always true. Well, there is a sense of truth, but in my experience it is like one more old saying that Mom used to quote and I heard later, on many occasions: “You can please some of the people all of the time, you can please all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time”. It remains that things are not always going to fall into the molds of our generalizations in life, but there are those things which do stand as foundations for our life’s journey.

Some time ago I took a spill as I left the house. It was one of those days that announced spring in a relaxing telltale sort of way. The sun had been out, the ice on the driveway had melted, and it was now dry, and all was well with the world. What I had forgotten was that the sun, now on the opposite side of the house was no longer able to keep the temperature up in the areas that were now shaded. So, a bit of water that had dropped from a leaking gutter was now a frozen patch of ice. I was busy looking forward and did not notice the frozen patch which lay about 10 inches below my first step. Yes… I ended up head over kettle (there is another one for you with variations!) in pain, bruised, embarrassed and unable to get up without assistance. I thankfully was not injured too bad I think. Time will tell, as my old back has not yet recovered.

Now I have always heard another old saying that states. “Things usually come in three’s”. Perhaps the use of the negative, bad things happen in three’s is more frightening. It causes one to wonder, when something happens, if there is more to come. I don’t know how many times my Mom would say that death happen in three’s; meaning old friends or relatives. So, I nursed my wounds, gathered back what was left of my pride and went about my daily work, as best I could. I steeled myself for the eventual ribbing that I knew I would receive from family and perhaps a friend or two. The jokes came and so did the next accident. This time it was my son. He somehow cut one of his knuckles at work and needed 3 stitches to keep it together. I felt bad as he already has enough on his plate just now. But the term “bubble wrap” was kicked around briefly for the two of us by this time and a few laughs were had. Wouldn’t you know a few days later my oldest daughter tripped over their young puppy and twisted her ankle… now the bubble wrap comment became overused for sure, and with a boomerang effect for some of the users!

Some could say that adds an edge to the accuracy of old sayings, when life’s experience has borne out that particular saying to carry some level of truth by times. But this brings me back to the other saying about pleasing people or always being right… not always right all the time. So we can feel somewhat secure with the likelihood of the incidents and circumstances of the day not always providentially to be found in threes … right? You would think so… But for one!

A fellow that I studied with through the years often said, “But the Big Guy has a plan!” This kind of off the cuff relaxed statement from a theolog, reminded us all that the insecurity of attaching ourselves to much of the idealistic terminology of the times, can lead us down a path towrd slippery footholds. I have often been more than weary of old sayings, due to my own observations about life. While the ant, the birds and the old dog sayings do have an element of truth, and there were those three recent accidents in my own family; this does not prove anything written in stone. What can we bank on then? Well for the young theolog from past years, and many just like him, there is one truth that we can’t escape and it has to do with the idea of three once again.

We all are born, we all die and we all will rise again. WOW… did he just say that we will all rise again? I thought that was only for them born again believers!!!! Yes, I KNOW, I KNOW! But before you close off reading and throw this blog to the ditch consider this. Everyone, no matter their religious affiliation, or lack thereof, has come to the conclusion that the first two portions of my stated threesome are true. There are those others who see life as a cycle of death and rebirth at one level or another. Forbid it Lord that I could come back at a toad, but perhaps in someone’s estimation, that should be my fate! Others among us will casually qualify life as an unending replay of birth, death and rebirth to try again, to perhaps do a better job next time. Ever watch the movie, “Groundhog Day”? LOL What if all we had was the reoccurring, relentless pursuit of haphazard life in cycles? What a drudgery and let down; perhaps but for  those adventure seekers who’s only ambition is the adrenaline rush of putting it all out there for the magic of the moment. Most of us want more than the moment… or at least I think that is the status of most, even today.

So how about that third option… well it is not an option… it is a reality. For those who are believers (I am steering away from the “born again” label on purpose here) this last step in process, for we created beings, there is the belief in the final step. One day we will all stand before God. Ah! ... But what about those others… you know them… the ones who don’t… you know they don’t believe… you know, they don’t believe in God… who He is and how it all works! Well, you have to remember that even believers sometimes think that once the end happens, (you know DEATH) there will only be those who believe and serve God, who will get to see Him, up close and personal like. It is kind of a biased attitude really, but one that bears more than its share of elitism I am afraid, in terms of “beware of our own folly” thinking. Well, here is this ol’ dog’s take on that idea, dear readers so hang on to your hats folks cause here it is.

Where was I going with this?… Oh yes, for all you naysayers at this point don’t give up on me just yet. I have not come without much study, research, thought about all of this and the only thing I am missing is empirical lab test-tube type study (for all you scientifically oriented persons needing that type of confirmation). I stand only on what the Scriptures have to say about it all. Sure, one day I am going to face God and He alone will judge. But the Bible tells us that “all” will be judged, for the good and the bad. Yes, that includes even the unbelievers. So, how does one justify their presence before God without their being resurrected? Hmmm… kind of adds a twist to those selected few theories that get flung around by some.

Every day we face so many incidents of trial, tribulation and concern. Every day is a battle to reach some level of assurance that our lives are not falling apart. I think St. Paul had it right when he stated that he was happy for his trials, as they made him stronger. Someone once said that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I am just glad that I have God on my side, as He helps me get through the everyday “stuff” so that I do not lose either hope of faith. Both are important to me… I could not go on without them. “Try it Donald and see!”, was a familiar saying from my childhood. We don’t always trust that which we cannot see and so God gets left out by many. But take a step on the wild side and test out this non-adrenaline cure for your curiosity. It is another walk near the edge and believe me, you “will” get a new perspective from there.

“When we all get to heaven what a day of rejoicing that will be…”; see, even the hymn talks about it… But there is a stipulation included.. There can be good news, or bad… Today we have the choice. Choose to believe… It brings a better ending for that number three! Blessings from me and May God richly bless your day!

A Grandfather’s Legacy ... And then, one day, it’s too late!

I have begun to collect various bits of Dad’s repertoire of old songs, poems and recitations, as I search to remember those most beloved stories, etc., and wish now that I had recollections of more. It is an ongoing task. I have researched the internet to find words to finish or correct those phrases leading to a fuller reminder of what had been sung, or recited down through the years. These pieces were a testament of my Dad’s love for the dramatic, the local flavor, the enduring reminders of past times. I will pass them on in hopes that when I too am gone, that perhaps the heart of a small child, in an adult’s body, will ask… “Do you remember when Grandpa….???”

It has become harder to relate and retell the stores of one’s childhood, of those moments when time was not a commodity to be spent like pennies for a bag of candy. It seemed like time back then was relevant and the oral history of places, people and events was a factor that brought family and community together. As you can see I am technologically well founded, I can handle a keyboard and even maintain a computer to a reasonable standard; but I also recognize, perhaps due to my age, that today’s younger generation is far more interested in superficial conversation (texting), drama and trivia, than the context of who they are, based on how they got here.

What am I saying? That sounds just like every “generational descriptive” ever used for “coming generations”, by those who are now evaluating and rehearsing, while being nostalgic about their own past.Now there's a mouth full! Perhaps there aren’t too many of us who truly appreciated the moments back in the day, when the older folks sat around and told stories, quoted the facts told them about how it all got started and finally done. Most leave it up to the historical societies and the genealogical societies along with museums and archives to keep a sacred trust for generations to come; those relics of past history. But what of the sacred custody of specific family history; who becomes the keeper of that trust?

Each generation reflects upon both ends of the spectrum that is evident, now before them. Some will, like me, see the value of both the rehearsal and recording of family traditions, tales and observations that put context to photos or videos that become archival material. Others will see only the value of that which is present. History for them is just seen as a precursor to what is taking place now and only significance as being foundational to the current state of life and times. Those perceived foundations are much like the ones found under the homes they live in; they are considered only when there is a sag in the structure. Today, as in any generation of youth, past is secondary to today’s issues... or it may be even further down the line and seen as irrelevant. While there is some concern for the gene pool, as it relates to health issues, business has found new commerce in following trends in gene pools lending relevance to identifying ethnic groups and geographic areas. The merchandizing of this information, while it may shed some light on one’s ancestry, it may not lead many to discover the traditions and stories surrounding perhaps the core of who their parents and grandparents were. It may sound like sour grapes, it is but a sign of the times, in which following generations find relevance in the issues that they face each day, and not so much weight in the formational structures/traditions around which the family was fashioned.

The problem often arises for those who do collect the data, the information including pictures and stories; what do we do with all the stuff? In my case I contacted a local genealogist/archivist and asked about the protocols, and happily in my case, I was told that our local genealogical society would be interested. The final decision will be based on the availability of someone in the family who may want to take over the work that has been enlarged, after it was passed on to me by my parents. While the collection of information can be tedious, the benefits surrounding that compilation often lends itself to such a bounty of heartwarming reminders that life for our family was not just daily routine of survival. Life then, just like life today, was a series of building blocks intertwined with love, laughter, and sometimes tears. These blocks helped make traditions, as well as the many facets of family history, recorded in the letters, notes, reflections, poetry and documents that become part of the embodiment of the family record.

Someone once told me that they were afraid to look at family history or genealogy, as it might show something that would embarrass them or their family. I never once feared that. I loved hearing the stories, listening to the interesting tidbits that my grandparents, aunts and uncles shared and being reminded that their past was something that I might never experience, but through their stories.

If you are seeking family informaiton and want to look at the history of your ancestors, you have to be ready for an exercise in frustration, if you have no previous information on which to build an accurate and meaningful account. But don't lose hope! Contact family members, find avenues to lost contacts from within the family branches. It is amazing what others have kept or archived, that might give you new insights into who your ancestors were and how they happen to end up where they did. A trip down history's lane can be a challenge but well worth the effort. Start by remembering what you can about those who surrounded you in your childhood and go from there.

I pray that as you search your past you will remember that God has richly blessed you, even though you may have gone through life thus far just skipping through the days, months and years not really keeping record of life's events. One day someone may ask: Grandpa (or Grandma)... "What was it like when you were little and where did your parents come from?" I hope to be ready with lots of answers.... and I am hoping someone will care enough to ask!

Laughter in the Dell was Good Medicine

I was brought up in a home with constant, or at the very least many, moments of spontaneous comic relief. Some of the moments will always remain as private moments, but nevertheless there were so many times when we all just burst out laughing, when everyone got together and just had fun. We didn’t need any chemical aids, no malicious prompting or control issues to bring it out… it just happened.

In our backyard, my Mom created, with the help of a compliant and co-operative father, a beautiful little retreat Mom called “the Dell”. Over the period of one spring, they created a place that for over a decade rang with the music, laughter, jokes and all the festive joys of family being gathered. One of our neighbours once told me that they always knew when those Allens were having a get-together, as the neighbourhood rang with laughter and music. It didn’t take much to make us all happy. Even while getting together as just the immediate family, we would go down to the Dell equipped with food, pots, pans and utensils and have a feast of family moments and made such fond memories.

My Dad and Mom even made a structure, a base really, for our 9 x 12, tall sided tent. They put in cots and my brother and I would stay most of the summer there when the weather allowed it. It was a place that welcomed us, taught us character, housed our burgeoning dreams and added an element of adventure to our lives that, for me anyway, lit an ongoing desire to both escape and go on greater adventures in life.
The Dell rang with stories of childhood, from all the various family situations and locations. I met a previously unknown Uncle and learned how his life was so different from ours. There were stories of hardship as my Mom’s family was broken up after her parents got Tuberculosis and soon after had died. Stories of hunting, fishing, being on the move or staying in one place for a whole lifetime, lent credence to the idea that home was important, but so also was the experiencing new challenges elsewhere. My Dad was not much of a story teller back then, in the sense of family history per se. He perhaps shared some, but was more often the quiet listener, unless to correct some over stated rendition of his growing up in the family.

Shelburne Community Theatre Group

Dad did have an artistic side though, that he liked to hide. But, when the time was right and without a great deal of prompting he could cut loose with a multitude of pieces of prose or a monologue, that he had heard somewhere and remembered.  Here is one that I do not know the history or source of, and yet a part of it remains sharp in my memory. It was part of a phone conversation between two old folks: “Last night der wind came and blew der shutters off de house. No, no I didna say shut-up! Last night der wind came and blew der shutters off de house and I need to call a carpenter. No, no, I didna say der car painter. You know, der one what hits de hammer wit der nail.” The family delighted in his repertoire of memorized verse and often asked him to spin a few off for them when gatherings took place.  I never knew till later in life that Dad was a member of a theatrical group in town, as well as playing in the town band. I think I have written previously about the day that he picked up an old coronet that I had purchased and played “Amazing Grace” all the way through and never missed a note. He was in his late 80’s at the time and he never played it again even when I asked. He was a very private man in many respects.

Most of my aunts and uncles shared so many funny stories; it is hard to remember them all. My uncle Kenneth was one of my favourite story tellers. He could string you along with such a straight face that it was hard to imagine that it could be anything less than the gospel truth. Two of my favourites, I think, were these. He told us of a hunting trip where he was just about killed by a misfire or an accident with his rifle. He delighted in showing the hole in the breast pocket of his denim shirt where the bullet passed through. I along with others surely sucked this tale in and believed every word cause he always said, “That’s the truth boy; that’s how easy it can happen! “ The other was while were out fishing with him one day and seemed totally lost in the fog. He said that he had no idea how he would find his pots, when all along he was carefully watching his time, compass direction and the current, so he knew exactly where he was all along. He would smoothly throttle down, grab a gaff and pull up his next buoy, on which there was hopefully a full pot of lobsters. Dad had explained later on that the hole in his pocket was from the constant wear of his cigarette package and we all had a great laugh, but nevertheless I was let down a bit by having to face a more sanguine truth. After all, sometimes the stories just added that bit of spice to life when you are very young.

Not all childhoods or home life in family is the same. Not everyone around me had the same experience of laughter on the same level as we did. I found as I matured, that some homes were silent refuges of disappointment and others were battlegrounds, where despair reigned daily. As time and opportunity arose, I found that there was a need to expand beyond the safety of home life and explore the lives of those others who may not have been as fortunate as me. I didn’t always find open doors and welcoming smiles and so I began to retreat and found solace in self identity and faith.  As I matured, it didn’t take long to realize that retreat was not an option, and so once again I limped outward and there finally found commonality and strength in fellowship with those of similar interest, faith and practice. Granted in my particular bias I would wish for a purer style of joyfulness in gathering, but mine was not to judge. There have been times when, of no credit to me, I have chosen not to join in, as I felt out of place when chemically induced fun, being over-used overtly, became a challenge for me.

Cultural and principle based differences aside, we love to celebrate and be reminded of the lighter side of life. Today I am much better at toleration, and while not always totally comfortable in all situations; my desire is to allow other so be what they choose as long as no one is hurt. Travel, including mission work, helped make a great difference. In the stories, the laughter and the fellowship of family and friends gatherings are found the essence of support, nurturing (in some respects) and release that only those occasions may allow, regardless of culture or ethnicity.

Someone asked me one day if God had a sense of humor. I have wondered about that down through the years There are all the standard jokes about the platypus, the penguin and of course about me, but when it comes down to it, I think that God is who He is. There needs to be no debate about His wisdom of choice, His knowledge of creation and how it might all end. There has even been some thought of His supposed lack of caring about individuals over an apparent concern for the overall plan, meeting His approval. God creates today, as he created, in an original design toward perfection. Today, most lack a desire to follow or conform to His plan, just like those in Biblical times, both within the Old and New Testaments. If God laughs, I believe it is at our foolish mistakes in life, not at our deliberate defiance of his principles of truth, which has always brought about imperfection.  We share funny stories… Does He... I wonder.

Our best effort in life is in the striving toward those moments of fellowship with family and friends, while sharing the best of the best in life. That may include some of the funniest of moments in family history, but it also should include those moments of recounting when we were in the depths of despair. We need to rehearse how we made it through, because God created family, and they were there with us and for us…. God was in His element; the family which He designed was with us. I give my Mom and Dad so much credit for my being a mostly happy and a somewhat well adjusted individual, but It was truly God’s direction, intercession, and of course their adherence to His desire for all of our lives, that made it happen. Those elements of family should be shared.

Perhaps you may not have experienced many joyous moments in your family life which brought laughter to its peak; maybe not near as many as I experienced. There may be moments though, where you felt great joy in its own right, and precious memories that endure no matter what has taken place. I have found that very thing in my own life. While there have been moments of disappointment, economic hardship and downright sadness in my life as well, during those times I’ve had to step outside of myself. I was never alone there. Most times my wife and children were there, along with friends and extended family. But always there has been God. Satan loves to play havoc with our lives and thoughts, particularly our thoughts. So, in God, I’ve found not only daily peace, but also daily assurance of His presence and grace to get me through. He sends those precious memories of better times and reminds me that He was there in them. He tells me to take my heart to those places where joy was at its height and He has provided pictorial reminders of occasions of the best of moments lived. He provided the finances to enable us to take those pictures by provide the cameras to take them and the albums to keep them in… of that I am confident.

Each day is a reminder of the past, as I age. I look forward to the future, don’t get me wrong. The future, I believe, holds many blessings as well. How I get there is the key! Getting there is not letting go of the past, but celebrating it while leaving room for new memories and new objectives in life. I want to remember my Dad’s prose and stories along with those many others that family shared while fellowshipping and partying through the years. God gives us memory for a reason and laughter for a reason and the blessing in all that is family. The combination of those three elements of life should be important. It may mean taking a walk toward the edge, especially if you may feel challenged by varied disappointments as you approach the past while considering family life. But… It may surprise you what may surface that will bring a smile and even a fit of laughter as you survey the past with openness. Don’t let Satan steal your joy…. Oh… And share a few of the old stories with those you love; you may be surprised first at the reaction of joy it brings and second it may be a revelation to find out who it is that really seems interested in listening.

I pray God will bring back joyful memories to uplift your life. May the Lord richly bless your day... He is surely blessing mine!

Watching the Elephants and Events in Life

I remember some elements in life’s path better than others. I am sure that is the case with most of us, though for some each moment is catalogued and remembered like it was yesterday. Some stages and events in my life are remembered as though looking through a fog; not quite as sharp as other memories might be. Our family, as a number of of you who have been following my ramblings over the past years will know, were churched people. I can remember my Grandfather sitting in Church along with some of the other deacons and those long services at special seasons of the year. There were those “other” services when missionaries came to visit and they brought items of interest including costumes, carvings and sometimes instruments from the lands they had visited. I loved the carvings and the instruments. But my favourites were the elephants. Most were small but I could see the mighty strength and the majesty of the creatures so finely replicated, in the local wood of the country from which they came.

Years later, standing on the edge of the woods in North Eastern India, I got to watch in person many times those majestic animals, that could be both gentle and kind, but also wild and dangerous. Just before a visit one year, a person had been killed by a rogue elephant in a rice paddy near where I was visiting. I learned that life could be harsh when even the most majestic of beasts could show how unpredictable and changeable their mood could become when afraid or cornered in a threatening fashion.

On each trip to India I purchased things to bring home to family. The girls wanted rings and clothing and for the boys I brought elephant carvings. My daughter Christy wanted an Indian Sari which I got for her and she has worn it with joy. My son Benjamin wanted a larger elephant than the one I had given him, so I allowed him to trade up to a larger wedding elephant that I had at home. It was a joy to see them pleased and yet I always wondered if they saw the uniqueness of the gifts as important as well, through the cultural significance of the items themselves.

In my collection I have three special elephants that communicate so much meaning for me about events in life in general. My first purchase was a group of standard elephants. They ranged in size from miniature to a medium size being perhaps 4 inches tall. They epitomized the mindset we might have of that majestic beast, so often seen in pictures or on TV. The next trip I purchased others that were quite special in a cultural sense. I had been invited to a traditional Indian wedding and saw pictures of a wedding elephant. It was beautiful and the young couple riding on it were so filled with joy and hope. Like most young married couples, regardless of what culture they are in, they were prepared to meet whatever they must face with the strength and courage of combined effort, reinforced by mutual love and support. But time changes many things and the struggle for even the simple rural couples of the Indian sub-continent, can become a trial bringing hardship and pain.

My third trip I saw something very special as I shopped in a local emporium in Mumbai (formerly known as Bombay). It was an elephant in the wild. These creatures are much different than domesticated elephants used in industry for logging and carriage pruposes. These elephants battle everyday against the heat, drought and the possible attack by lions and large cats of prey. This particular carving portrays the struggle with a pride of lions; one lion is on the elephants back and another is under the great creature’s foot, being crushed to death. This carving shows a real life or death struggle, and we do not know the outcome; we are only party to the conflict, the horrid truth of life at its worst. I could have left that particular carving there, and I almost did. I kept coming back to it sitting there on the display shelf and I could not let it go from my mind. Today is sits together with two or three others. One is a happy carving that my daughter brought back from Cuba to add to my elephant collection, but it typifies what we see in the images we want to think of when we consider elephants in general. Two others are wedding elephants that remind me that though there are uncertainties in life, we begin with hope and faith, coupled with joy and celebration. That

struggling elephant reminds me daily that life, though cruel, is still life and I like to think, as I look at him in that battle to survive, that he will overcome and that some other elephant comes along and helps in the battle toward victory.

I am glad that I have those carvings where I can see them every day, several times a day in fact. I often stop and pick them up; I want to feel the wood and consider the implications of their representation to everyday life. I want to remember my travels among a people, who though foreign to me culturally, were brothers and sisters in the Lord. I was a mere fringe benefit, someone who came to share the hope of Christ and train others to present the Gospel in depth and meaning, that may elude those who could not afford formal training outside their villages, or whose training was limited to that of rudimentary seminary training at best. I was not a miracle worker or a healer, just an instrument of God’s love come to serve in whatever capacity I could, in what little time I was able to stay in their country with them.

We often, perhaps too often, may feel like that elephant under attack. It does not have to be from some physically present enemy, it may be from within. There doesn’t always have to be someone who has hurt us or let us down; it can also manifests itself in low self-esteem or even in some cases a type of self-abasement for things we have done, or lived through in the past. No matter the cause, life can be hard to face on a daily basis. It is then, as the lions attack at our very soul, that we have to remember that it is Satan’s way of depleting our energy and sapping our joy. God’s word tells us in 1st Peter 5:8 that the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. No matter our past or present situation, we must remember that at the core of our pain it is Satan and his ploys, conceived to destroy or to maim at the very least, that becomes our enemy.

I believe that God gives us certain blessings that we can focus on each day and be reminded that He is still in control. My favourites are as many as they are varied, but I try to be reminded to stop and take in the joy of those moments and elements of blessing when they are needed. It is not easy! I struggle daily with diminishing health, mobility and life’s unfortunate twists and turns like most other people. I have not been given a free pass that says, “Advance to go and collect $2oo like the old Monopoly game said. Life can be hard and then it can get worse, but only if we let it. Fighting back in strength beyond our normal capabilities is the key. I see that in this battle found with my elephant. His determination is built in, his battle is real and so are the possibilities that he may not win, but he fights to win nevertheless… always!

I thank God every day for the promise of His word in Deuteronomy 31:6 that says, “Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the LORD thy God, He it is that goes with you; he will not fail you, nor forsake you”. It could be understood that God fights all our battles for us, but that is not the case. Consider the case of David and Goliath. David went forth in faith and though he was laughed at by his family and their army and finally by this giant of a man, the enemy of God and his people; he slung a small stone and killed that giant, not by might, but by courage, in faith believing in what God could accomplish in him. We must trust that God is there in that same way for us today, as we walk amidst our own personal pride of lions or even a mighty giant looking Satan, ready to consume our joy and our lives. God gives both the courage and the victory to overcome in Him, if we are open to His peace and grace. Knowing the enemy is part of the battle, but knowing the King of Kings is more important.

Some will question the validity of belief when evidence shows that many or perhaps even most of our battles are still lost. The world cries out, “it is fate, it realism, it is just a stage and we are merely the characters on it for the sake of some reality being played out as some cruel joke by the gods”! Yet in defining the presence of gods there is an element of question that remains.  Who are these gods and what is important about that being a valid answer? Paul pointed out in Acts 17:16-34 that there were statues to some unknown god and he made it plain that this unknown god was in fact the one whom they were searching for all along… the God of Creation… the Father of all mankind and the Father of the Christ, who he came to serve and proclaim; to those who would have ears to hear and hearts to respond.

Life is all about the ups and downs. Not everyone is always down. God provides those moments of joy and we are riding the wedding elephant or sounding the trumpet of the wild and free elephant. Take some time today, if you are feeling down and exercise your right to some joy. Go to your window and look out. Look through the blandness of a winter day and see the simple truth of what is before you. Life is out there. There may be snowflakes perhaps; there are some here on days of late where I live, but they have a certain beauty to them as they float down. It may be a tree, a bird, a cloud formation in the sky or even a sound that can remind us that there is life being lived and we need to be a part of it, because God had created it for our pleasure and us for His. I am sure he is more pleased when we feel joy than when we feel stress and unrest.

Walk to the edge of yourself today. Consider the world from a new perspective. It might take a real struggle that gets you there, but believe me I can tell you from my own experience that the view from there can change your life for a moment… or a lifetime. May God richly bless your day and in doing so may you know that He cares about you… May you always know I care about you as well. Blessings my dear readers, in Christ our LORD!

My "Granny Pad Rant" or Growing Old with Respect

As people grow older, and their personal needs, along with a desire to stay in their own home increases, there is a dynamic of a two-fold stress that arises. As we look from the outside in, (as those who are mere spectators) we often conclude that the best results that could be attained would be to dislodge our seniors from their homes and move them to a more acceptable situation, where both social and medical help would be more available. This may include more suitable surroundings, where consideration can be given to special needs with health and safety concerns as a basis of justification.

This stress can surface in at least two areas. We often disregard these two factors that arise in the aging process; It is the issues of convenience versus familiarity. There had been in the not so distant past, a tendency for both family and the care-giving sectors, to opt for convenience, as seniors were rushed into nursing homes and extended care facilities. This has changed somewhat, as governments have surveyed the cost of corporate care of elders, finding the growing economic limits of this type of housing to be prohibitively expensive, and so moves were made to aid in  keeping seniors in their homes longer. Now with the limitation on public resources once again being of concern, there seems to be a move now-a-days to promote alternate avenues of care for our aging population, among the private sector; that being the promotion of “Granny Pads” and “tiny home” provision for our seniors. This first area of stress is out of concern for the seniors themselves. Convenience is important to some extent, but as we consider convenience there must be the consideration of respect for the wishes of those who are our aged, what is measured as convenient for our senior family members themselves.

A certain or sure dynamic of stress arises when the only consideration is that of uni-directional convenience. As we evaluate both the environment and personal health of our aging seniors, there are two facets of care that must be considered. In this day and age, as family members are sometimes shipped off to a distant nursing home that may be of some distance away from their family. That sounds harsh… and it is. With the aging populations of North American society there are constant stresses placed on both health and geriatric care facilities. The Canadian dynamic is a bit different in some respects, as there are two levels of care available. The first line and most important to our citizens, is the state operated nursing and extended care facilities which have been our privilege for many decades. The alternate for some, are private facilities which may be a choice for those who can afford this style of exclusive care with extended options for socialization and exercise along with personal health care as a first line supplemental base. How is convenience measured then? Is it the convenience of those facing the decision process for others, or for the convenience of those being processed? What is most important is the convenience for our seniors, not the convenience of the family, or perhaps convenience for the care giving professionals and this fact causes much stress for all concerned. How does one evaluate fairly based upon all the factors involved and then make a decision based on both practicality and prudence?

I remember years ago my parents wishing to have us boys place them in a nursing home when the time came. They clearly, at that time, did not want to become a burden to us. We were both professional men and our lives were busy and complicated in many respects. There was no clear definition of timing or circumstance around which this decision process was to begin. As the years passed, a change took place as their view to the future was totally opposite to their original wishes. My parents now wanted to stay in their own home. My Dad had been instrumental in the providing of senior’s accommodations in our area, and had accomplished having two 2 bedroom apartments placed in the extended care housing facility, that was built during his years as Chair of the Housing Authority. His plan had been that he and Mom would live there, as their need for extended care increased. This was not to happen, as it was not coordinated with my mother’s plan.

My parents finally decided one day that they wanted to stay in their own home. This second dynamic of stress for both them and for us, as their children, was that we realized that there arose this problem of familiarity. How can familiarity be a problem one could ask? Human nature gets used to a certain flow throughout a lifetime. This is both more finely developed and accentuated as we age. Daily processes become a harbour of safety and routine, a fence to help keeping on track those mundane considerations of health and happiness, for seniors it is a familiar environment that lends itself to comfort. There is routine to make sure medications are taken, meals are prepared on time and the regimen of the day, through repetition, is comforting, as well as therapeutic, in most cases. While care must be taken to watch for signs of degeneration of mental capacity, we should not be too quick to identify a bit of momentary confusion with total senility. Consider how many times we have reached for something during the day and wondered what it was that we wanted, even in our young adulthood. There are signs of more deeply seated confusion that can be noted, to help us better evaluate, and it is our responsibility to help those we love by due diligence and research, as we assist and watch. without undue stress for either ourselves or our loved ones.

We often hear people say, “There is no place like home!” and yet a normal reaction for those on the outside quite frequently is to come to the conclusion that something else, in the way of surroundings and environment, would far better serve their loved ones, in their later years. This is not a total misjudgment, if the circumstances warrant it. There does come a time, if personal care is of great concern and the availability of caregivers, to meet the personal needs of our loved ones, is lacking. I will not argue that. I would suggest, and perhaps I may be seen as naive here, that first and foremost we need to continue to do evaluations based on the desire of our aging seniors. I have seen in the past too many evaluations done by professionals, who with well-meant consideration for their clients, made their decision to report a need for relocation based solely on a 45 minute practical and verbal tests, focused on physical response times and acuity of understanding. While these tests or benchmark forms of evaluation have their purpose, there is the problem of false positives or false negative factors that must be considered. To have a stranger come into your home asking questions, and often being perceived as “demanding” responses, to both oral inquiry along with physical capability, can be daunting for seniors. Seniors do not always react well to external stresses created around such evaluations. There may be formulas in the process that allow for client’s (this is the term used by the health care-givers) state of mind, but far too often, it seems like results are calculated only using standard forms, reflecting basically the actual responses given and abilities shown, as time needed for such evaluations is an element of concern within the process itself.

I have been there and I have noted those stressed seniors personally over a 40 year period, working with not only family members but community members, as they faced this overwhelming process. I helped care for both of my parents, hands on, and I know that there are easier ways to both try to help and assure our seniors, who are our family members… yet sometimes alternate methods and foreign environments, are not the best way to go. I realize that not everyone is capable of caring for aging family members. Not everyone is in a situation that allows them to perhaps stop their own lives, to assist an aging parent, or parents, through their final days. But out of respect for our seniors, I pray that this hands-on course of care will not become a “last considered” option, as our society seemingly devalues our seniors in many respects.

 I am writing today in response to an ad found on social media for the proposing and promotion of “Granny Pods” or housing for our family members in the backyards of our homes. In this scenario they are near, but out from under foot. Seniors in this scenario are given the opportunity for personal space and privacy, but are also near enough to be cared for when care is needed. That “when needed” has always bothered me. My sick mother looked after parents and her aging in-laws until their deaths. No one knew how many times she cleaned up the messes made when their body functions failed them, the meals shared, clothes laundered and a hand was held when losses meant tears being shed and company was needed. That was “hands on”, and it was not just a chore to be grudgingly completed, it was a privilege. Years later, there were moments of exhaustion for my brother and I, as we experienced what our parents years before, had taken on as responsibility for their own parent’s care. There were times when embarrassment had to take second place, as the needs of our parents overshadowed any preconceived idea of how things would work themselves out, when the latter years of our parent’s lives came to confront us, and their care was now of prime concern, now to be a privilege and not just a necessity.

This is not meant to be a chastising of those who have made other choices for their own family members or parents. I helped my aunt get a bed in a nursing home because that is what “she” wanted at that point in her life. It was not a matter of outside evaluation and decision process… it was her decision and I was merely the convener within that process. How we perceive our seniors, and how we deal with their needs, should be made solely on their desire first wherever possible, and where that is not possible, great care in acknowledgement of their presence and importance in our lives should be taken, so that perceived alienation does not become a factor of daily life later on, for those we love.

Granny pods…. Well, if that is a consideration on the part of the senior themselves… OK! But, let’s not rush to tuck away our seniors and parents in our backyards too soon… their homes are their castles and as we evaluate the dynamic of familiarity over convenience, we must not leave out that dimension of human need that states that what is familiar to us brings comfort beyond most external supplemental care in life. If I choose to move… and I may very well do so at some point in my later years, then I pray that it may be near some family member who will choose to help care for me, not from guilt, pressure or perhaps only out of a fear for my safety. I pray that it might be with a heart of love that remembers that as a parent, I helped nurture them, as best I could through life, and that they would now do so for me, until I depart in death. That may include at some point, a decision to place me in extended care somewhere, when I am no longer manageable and their personal care for me is no longer tenable… That could be a reality, but one faced with God’s Grace.

That is what living near the edge sometimes comes to. It is not always about exploring new ground or meeting challenges that are all about our skill sets in life; one day it will be our ability to face the unwanted changes that are normal for advancing years, but foreign to us in your youth. We must prepare ourselves to walk near that edge as well. Is there a need to rush things? Perhaps not. But, like anything in life, the more homework we finish on time, and with due diligence, the more prepared we are for the test when it comes. As we walk near the edge in this respect... take time to answer some of the gnawing questions about what you want, versus what may be expected. No need to walk there alone! Walk with God at whatever level you might be in your understanding of His guidance and direction for your life. But remember this... we will all face that reality at some point ... ready or not! Personally, I do not fear what the future holds as I am too busy just celebrating the present, but I do keep in mind and practice the reality of my place before God.

May you be blessed, as you consider some of my odd rant today. Now don't go getting all depressed... I will be taken care of I am sure, even if I don't deserve it! That can be your smile for today!