Morning has broken...

Sunday morning, new years eve. 2007 is getting dressed for its own party. 2006 is packing and backing a U Haul up to its back door.

10 things...

1. A deepening desire to see small things make impact in the lives of ordinary people
2. Navigating away from the "doing something big" mindset
3. A growing awareness of my own dissatisfaction with the institutions I gave my life to for more than 20 years.
4. A longing for peace in all places at all times
5. A growing value on people versus projects
6. Awakening the sleeping creative giant within
7. Attention paid to the "sighs" of life
8. Pursuing health and wellness...again
9. The building desire to cling to those closest to me
10. The lingering sadness of the broken lives of friends

Christmas Letter Tidbits...

Every year we publish a Christmas letter...if you don't get one and would like one, leave some info in the comment section (ie: an address) and we'll send one your way. This year we even got them n the mail before Christmas...last year we gave up around the 3rd of March. But as you can see, and as I have said...we are so far ahead of the game this year, that we are just waiting for it all to happen. (Christmas that is).

The carolers (just two this year, whatever happened to volunteers!) are caroling their hearts out...

In his master's steps he trod, Where the snow lay dinted

Heat was in the very sod, Which the Saint had printed

Therefore, Christian men, be sure, Wealth or rank possessing

Ye who now will bless the poor, Shall yourselves find blessing

Tis the Season

As you can see, our small town has turned on all the lights and trimmed every tree. Its as if we are all just waiting for Christmas to happen. And, as happens every year, the rare, one horned Ibex appears with its mate near the largest tree in town. Nice to see some things never change. I hope that boy has his dog on a leash...

Mittens and Goats...

One of the things I learned this summer was that small things can make a big difference in the lives of people who are suffering. For the homeless and the marginalized that we met, summer is a time of relative ease compared to the damp, cold winters on Toronto's streets. Our little team tried to do what we could and they were all hopeful that when they came home they would impart some of what they had learned at home.

Our small group collected hats, mitts and gloves for the Food Bank. In a few short weeks they filled a big box with love. It is cool and warm to think of those little gloves going onto the hands of a kid who has lost her gloves and has no way of replacing them. Way to go group!

Oh, and I also wanted to mention...our group also bought a goat. A goat! Through world vision, we put the funds in place to buy a goat for a family in the third world. You can see the best Christmas catalogue ever at http://www2.worldvision.ca/gifts/app.

Am I bragging? No. I am encouraging...small things to bring relief to those who suffer.

Stained Glass

Maybe you have noticed some of these stained glass windows in the blog...they are from an old (I mean old old) church we worked at in Toronto this summer. The neighborhood was tough. Life was hard for the people that came to find some food, clothing or other basics of life. When basic needs are not met...life spirals out of control...there is no other way to say it.

SOLD!

We sold our house. In a day. We bought a house! In Devon...on the other side of town. Good-bye Pipestone hello Devonian Crescent!

Check this out

http://www.thenativitystory.com/

A Prayer of Thomas Merton

God, we have no idea where we are going.
We do notsee the road ahead of us.
We cannot know for certainwhere it will end.
Nor do we really know ourselves,and the fact that we think we are following your willdoes not mean that we are actually doing so.
But we believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And we hope we have that desire in all that we are doing.
We hope that we will never do anything apart from that desire.
And we know that if we do this you will lead us by the right road, though we may know nothing about it.
Therefore, we will trust you always though we may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. We will not fear, for you are ever with us, and you will never leave us to face our perils alone.

Thoughts in Solitude, p. 83, adapted

How old are you anyway?

I went with Lealand to a Citadel Theatre production on Tuesday night with a group from his school. While we waited for the show to start, one of his teachers leaned over her seat to askme,"Have you hit the big 50 yet?"...I was shocked and must have looked it..."50...I am far away from that!". She looked stunned...I was stunned that she looked so stunned. I am 43. And as some recent comments suggested...I do not lie about my age. I was born in the spring of 1963. That was, for you history buffs, the year that JFK was murdered.

I suppose my premature grey is now taking on a more mature grey. And the years of stress and worry (remember I was a pastor! and a father of three!) have taken their toll...but for the record, I am only 43, the same age as Brad Pitt.

Seriously, there have been so many attempts to place me in some other age category that I will have to talk to my consultant and see what I can do about my image...I have never felt that I needed to lie about my age. Well maybe when I was 18 and the legal drinking age was 19. But besides that...did I mention I am only 43.

AIDS

Everywhere we went we were faced with four letters. The world AIDS conference had just closed as we arrived. Our first evening together as a team, we met with members of the gay community in a park dedicated as an AIDS memorial. Our host was tuned into the tremendous implications of a disease that hunts down and destroys all manner of women and men. His thoughtfulness gave me hope. I cannot say how many times in 10 days we faced the four letters, in the faces of those we talked to, fed, supported, hung out with. I can only tell you that it seemed to be everywhere, and like the proverbial elephant in the living room...we wanted to avoid it. Pain has a way of surfacing. The collective pain of those four letters, AIDS surfaces and the cry is only hindered by our desire to slam our hands over our ears, close our eyes and say, "I just can't think about it...I just can't"

Tiger by the tail

Daylight required him to retreat from the open fields and well travelled paths to a shaded spot beneath an ancient tree. The tiger did not seem to notice, his chosen resting place was not deep in a jungle, or rather it was deep in a jungle of a very different sort. The tiger lay down in the city park, too tired and disoriented to consider leaving. "I will rest, and move on when darkness falls again." He missed the certainty of his forest home. He longed for the deep blanket of green he know as a younger man. His home was far away, and if he had it to do over again, he often told others in the park, he never would have left. But he had beleived that it would be better, here. Easy hunting, plentiful food and shelter who could resist?

The coolness allowed some welcome relief from a night of moving in and out of shadow, hunting, searching, seeking and hiding. In the daylight, he could sleep, clean his wounds, allow the dryness of the air to dry his soiled feet and cracked skin. His coat, being thick and multilayered protected him from heat and cold. Its multicolored lines took on the rippling shadows of midday with a welcoming camoflage. In the relative safety of daylight, he at last could rest.

They saw him earlier in the day. His heaving breaths flailing limbs bore witness to the tiger's condition. They had water, they had money, they had what he needed. They had been told to try and find a tiger, talk to him, learn his name and if possible take him to a donut shop for coffee. They approached cautiously, none of them had ever spoken to a tiger...and they all knew that danger was present.

Along the street

"Why did you come?"

"I don't know, I am still trying to figure that out."

Walking up the street from the museum I found my way over to the Toronto City hall. It was a hot mid-summer day. There was a festival going on. "A Taste of" kind of festival. Tents with all kinds of food from every nation represented in the great city.

"What were you thinking? Did you think that it would be easy?"

"I thought it would be good for me. I thought I would discover things about myself. I guess that is kind of selfish...but I wanted to see, to see me in the midst of all of this."

Flowers bloomed, buildings seemed to burst out of the ground and under the streets the city moved on rails, sending gusts of hot air up through vents to the sweating streets above. My clothes stuck to me and I tried to imagine how I would endure this for ten days.

"You are 43. You won't be able to keep up. Look at you...always trying to be a teenager...don't you think it's time for you to grow up?"

I tried to imagine me, a 43 year old man, spending the week with a dozen or more highschool and junior highschool students. I tried to imagine myself sticky, hot, tired and crabby with a dozen or more highschool and junior highschool students. I was not trying to defeat myself before I started, I was just trying to see it unfold in my head.

"I am a little suprised by the dark feelings I am having. It is way to beautiful here for these gloomy thoughts"

"You think too much."

"I think a lot, that's true. But it is not thinking that is bringing the curtain down before I start. It is the seeing, the smelling, the tasting."

Darkness hung around the edges of this brilliant day. A picture is worth a thousand words they say. Fear, not a familliar emotion, presented a case to me as well.

"What do you have to offer in the face poverty, AIDS, sickness and homelessness? Who are you and what are you trying to prove? What if things get out of control, what do you really know about the heart of a city?"

Trip to the ROM

I had some time to kill and saw that the subway went direct to the Royal Ontario Museum. Well almost direct. I got a little lost...took some good pictures and then found my way in. The whole place was being renovated...so I am not sure I saw everything. I took tons of pictures...and then saw some poor tourist being told that taking pictures was strictly forbidden. I put my camera away....discreetly.

It was a strange immersion at the beginning of a our 10 days in Toronto. Our task, quest, goal was to work with three different churches in the inner city. We were not there to save the city, we were there to fit into what was already going on.

But before I get ahead of myself...let me say that the hour or so I was skulking around this world class museum I was overwhelmed with the physical manifestations of darkness.

I am not unappreciative of art. I am not the kind of guy that sees a demon behind every statue. The darkness I was perceiving was not that tangible. The darkness of mens' hearts, the darkness of a society that is full of itself, a darkness that fills a room with the same intensity and speed as light. More of this later...but darkness was never far away from my thoughts.

Welcome Back

I see it has been months since my last entry...my bad! Over the next few weeks I hope to enter a number of articles based on my summer travels. This year I have covered a lot of ground on both coasts and inbetween. If you are still hitting this site once in a while...thanks for hanging in there with me. Drop a comment and let me know what's up.

You might be wondering where I was. Well it went something like this. Early July...the West coast (see my last entry). August, 3 Days of work in Toronto, 10 days of working with some inner city churches in Toronto (with Tage) and then a 7 day adventure in Nova Scotia. Add to that some hot lazy days on the Pembina River, a few excursions to the beautiful province of Saskatchewan and a couple of days at home and you have a snapshot of my summer. Want more details...stay tuned

Driving....

We are heading to BC for a family reunion (Peg's family) and a week of holidays in and around Vernon and Penticton. I have packed nothing but swimsuits and shorts and tanktops (0h and thousand other things the three of us will need for the next 9 days)...hope its as hot there as it is here. My packing reflects my expectations... when we are in BC I love to swim in the lakes, hang out on the beach and do stuff in the sun. Besides that...everything else is trivial.

Well not entirely trivial. We will visit Peggy's Mom, who is too old and frail to come the family reunion. A few years ago wild horses couldn't stop her from showing up, in one of her fantastic hats...smiling and laughing with her brothers and sisters (there were 13 of them, now alas about 4). "Mom" is one of those amazing women who raised her own kids (8 of them) and adopted their multiple husbands and wives and made us all a family. It is sad to see her twilight. When we remember the days of canning fruit, cooking huge meals, laughing out loud and sitting in the shade...lunch on the porch...it warms and breaks out hearts at the same time.

I have loved her from the day I met her. She loved me before that!

The Bride Wore White...

This is our little car...not the car I use for work...it is for sale...but that is not what I am writing about...

We went to the wedding of a young couple. It was beautiful, encouraging and even romantic. They were so close to the same age as my kids that it was impossible not to see them cast in a similar drama in the near future. I get more and more emotional at weddings, the older I get. It has something to do with my own sense of time passing by in my own life and marriage.

We have been married long enough to see other marriages begin and end. We have struggled through some deep water and dark days ourselves. We have passed the 22 year mark and I am more aware today, than ever that marriage is God's idea...pure and simple.

The first time God is recorded saying that something is "not good", is when he looks at Adam and sees him alone. I admit it, I don't do alone very well. Although I crave alone time once-in-a-while, it is not my best time. I am better with others. I am best with others I love. It is not good for this man to be alone...too much.

Lately I have been able to travel some for work with Peg. It is good. Tomorrow, Aimee and I will head out to Saskatoon. It is good. It will be fun to show her the city I have enjoyed the most in the past year or so of travelling. (Sorry Calgary...you just don't do it for me!). I am never sure how many more times I will be able to spend time like this with my eldest. It is a treasure...

Big Dog + Small Yard+ Winter = You just don't want to know!

Winter in Edmonton lasts approximately 12 months...okay...maybe 7 months...So the reasoning that follows like this makes a lot of sense. "We'll leave the dog s**t until winter is over" I mean who wants to go out when it is 40 below and pick up dog crap. Espescially when you can spend the first warm days of spring (sometime in July!) raking up a winters worth. She is a large dog and it is a small yard...basically every square inch is covered...in one way or another with s*

Lancelot "Capability" Brown was born in Kirkharle, Northumberland in 1715 (more about his nickname "Capability" in a moment). Young Lancelot was educated at Cambo School, before serving as a gardener's boy in the service of Sir William Loraine. From there he moved on to Wotton, owned by Sir Richard Grenville. He became England's most famous gardener. Basically he was the guy who convinced rich English people to change their gardens from tight formal Versailles type gardens, into wild and infomal...rambling gardens.

Lancelot Brown soon acquired the peculiar nickname "Capability" from his habit of telling clients that their gardens had "great capabilities". In his talented hands, they certainly did.
Brown has been criticized, with some justification, for destroying the works of previous generations of gardeners to create his landscapes. He worked with a grand vision, and preferred to sweep away the past and create a fresh garden to his own standards.

What does that have to do with the winter and the dog? Well the way I see it...the yard, our yard had great capabilities... and it is kind of wild...not too wild....just kind of wild. It will take some work...but I think I can wrestle the garden from the grip of the big black dog...maybe even teach her to do her business in one spot...so that we can put in multiple flower beds and trim the grass....(not too trimmed...just a little trimmed). St. Jude pray for us!

Last week...was spent in Toronto...well not exactly in Toronto...somewhere on the outskirts... near Markham, Richmond Hill... It is one of the ironies of my job that the time we spend in Toronto I could be in any light industrial area in Canada...and the week is so jam packed that there is little time to see what everyone is talking about...when they talk about Toronto.

However...this summer Tage and I will go with a team from our church to work with youth in three inner city churches there. It will be fun...I am a chaperone...a chaperone...what a crazy mid-victorian word. I am excited...I think we will have a great time. I am a chaperone...yikes! I am sure we will see more of TO than I have on my previous trips. God said to Jonah, "Shall I not be concerned for this great city?"

During my last trip there it was great to connect with some great people. A very memorable sushi night. The cool thing about this job is you get to know people from all over North America...it is definately a perk! The conversation went on and on...and there was depth and insight as well as some great laughs.

Then there was an unbelievable encounter with Thai Food. It's not that the Thai food was great...it was just...um...unusual. The adventurers with me wanted to order something different, so we ordered "Pompano with Papaya Sauce". We did not know what a Pompano was, but we were quite sure that if there was enough Papaya Sauce, we could handle anything!

It turns out that Pompanos are...big round, flat fish...and they are served whole, with heads and tails and we are pretty sure, entrails! We ate it. It turns out they look a lot better in the ocean than on a plate. It turns out that they are...those shiny fish that show up in every show about coral reefs...they are not beautiful but they are plentiful.

Strange thing about strange food. It goes in and just sits in your stomach. You know the feeling. It just sits there...waiting. For me it waited until I got to the airport...and then it got angry and wanted out...WHAM!

After my last trip home from Toronto...this one was uneventful. It was great to get home and be greeted by a good friend.

Coming home always is a bit of a decompression as compared to sales conferences...there are chores to do, a back-yard to clean up, kids with questions and work to do.

Nearing completion...

I haven't always been a handyman...some of my biggest fights with my dad revolved around plywood and circular saws (think Kelly Clarkson...singing "Because of You" in a garage full of powertools!). But as I have said before...my thriftyness (I get this from my Grandmother) prevents me from hiring someone to do something I am quite sure I can do myself. And in the day and age of internet everything...you can basically find a how to for any project on the world-wide web.

The countertops I put in...were preformed and just required one cut to fit them into the kitchen. Tage and I did these cuts one afternoon, after Peggy had left the house (she doesn't like to be around for my manic renovation episodes...smart lady!). Although they only required one cut...I felt like a diamond cutter...sweat broke out on my brow and my hands trembled...one major mistake and I could ruin the economic and resourceful advantages of doing it myself.

Yesterday I tiled in a backsplash...may I boast? It is a work of art...really beautiful. If you had asked me ten years ago to tile anything...I would have suggested sticky-backed vinyl tiles. Grout, Portland Cement?...no way! See how things change!

You might be wondering how hard I am on my own son during construction...well....the truth be told we work well together...and "seldom is heard a discouraging word"...besides...he has better tools than me...so I have to keep him happy!

It is Saturday morning...and it is one of my favorite times of the week. I get up generally before anyone else (one true fact of aging...is that you are ruined for sleeping in...I would like to blame my kids...but truthfully I should blame my bladder...or the dog's bladder!).

Regardless, I put on some coffee (Kicking Horse, is the brand de-jour...so dark you could mistake the whole beans for dark chocolate), and read the local newspaper while Tage gets himself ready to for work. What I am waiting for though is the arrival of the Edmonton Journal. The Saturday journal is a bit of a legend in our home. During a dreary winter of unemployment, the Saturday journal held a bit of promise for me each week. It wasn't just the classifieds...it was the pages of larger "Career" ads that lit the light of hope in me. In fact it was one of those ads that got me a job in a woman's shelter!

So now I return to the Saturday paper, not because I need a job but because it is comforting...in the way that some people find oatmeal or macaroni and cheeese comforting. I just heard the screen door slam...the Journal is here!!!

It is spring break...and spring has broken in on us. At last we can sleep with the windows open. The dog has found her favorite spot on the concrete. She basks like a seal...with the heat of the sun warming her old dog bones...and her old dog bones.

Old houses are a lot of work. Our house isn't as old as this one...(I took its picture because I was quite sure it was about to fall down, this old house was a block away from where we lived in Medicine Hat). Our house was built in the 70's (not the 1870's)... and it was time for some more changes. Phase 2 of kitchen renovations is about mid-stream. We have put in new countertop...(almost granite...) and painted everything in sight. A new sink and tile backsplash...and best of all...a new fridge. Our outgoing fridge has had a screaming demon for over a year...so we feel no remorse in sending it to fridge hell...

Another best of all is the fact that our kitchen counters are almost six inches deeper than before. WE HAVE GAINED GROUND! This is clearly a big deal to me...attached in some way to the fact that wider counters guarantee some happiness on some level.

The whole renovation has been a chore...but there is a level of satisfaction...oh...

...and another best of all...we built in a dishwasher...yes can you believe it after three years of family bliss over the supper dishwater...we will have a machine take care of the stains and remains! (I think this is the best...best of all...!!!!)

Satisfaction comes in the form of doing so much of it myself...other than wiring...it has been done by the sweat of my brow..oh and Tage's brow and Peg's brow! It is hard to believe what you can learn to do...when you start to see what it might cost if someone else was to do it.

Soon the pots and pans will move back in. The breadmaker and mircrowave will make small talk about the improvements. The toaster will blush at its grime in the gleam of the new sink. And all will be well...

Internal Anxiety...

Well the day trip with my boss went well. But by the time I got back to the hotel and dropped him off, I had a mind splitting migrane. The kind that combines pain with dark blotches and waves of nausea. I staggered to my room and settled down to a mid afternoon nap.

I woke up to the phone. Headache somewhat subdued. He wanted to talk we got together and he described what any counselor would call spiritual abuse. He was even tuned into the thought. But he was resistant...unwilling to call it what it was. It revolved around the idea that major life choices (career, lifemate etc.) needed to be approved by a pastor in order to recieve the blessing of the church. Not the church universal...a local church! Without that approval there would be no blessing. Yikes...

We talked a little more but could make no headway...

Then off to supper with my boss...After a day of talking bottom line, margin, profit centers etc. he shifted into a very personal discussion of his life and kids and family...I was pleasantly surprised. A human face!

I have to go to Lethbridge with my boss. I must feel some anxiety over it...or I wouldn't think so much about it. Four hours of travel, three hours of sales presentation...7 hours of time with my boss. He's a good guy...and I know that I will get to know him better...and perhaps he will get to know me.

I love my job. However I am trying hard not to define myself with it. When I am with him, we talk business, bottom lines, books, books and more books. I never thought when I took the job that I would find the relentless interest in profit and margin such a grind. When I travel on my own...I discover lots about myself, but don't tend to spend hours focusing on how I can increase my account base. (Perhaps that is why I discover a lot about myself!)

Money seems to be a big draw these days. I talked with a friend who is thinking maybe a lifetime calling in ministry isn't for him. A lot of his reasoning revolved around the salary cap that comes with a job like Pastoring. No room for cash bonuses or incentives for increased sales. It is hard to imagine for people who have never done it...but a salaried job is demotivating and can often call you to mediocrity. I think it is part of why the communist regime fell...same pay for everyone....and when the pay is low...why work harder?

Coins in the mouth of a fish

Matthew 17:24ff When they had come to Capernaum, those who received the temple tax came to Peter and said, "Does your Teacher not pay the temple tax?" 25 He said, "Yes." And when he had come into the house, Jesus anticipated him, saying, "What do you think, Simon? From whom do the kings of the earth take customs or taxes, from their sons or from strangers?" 26 Peter said to Him, "From strangers." Jesus said to him, "Then the sons are free. 27 Nevertheless, lest we offend them, go to the sea, cast in a hook, and take the fish that comes up first. And when you have opened its mouth, you will find a piece of money; take that and give it to them for Me and you."

Do you know this story about taxes from the Gospels. Catch a fish and check out the fact that it has coins in its mouth. Miraculous!

We were hung up on filing our tax return. We were missing one T4 slip that had slipped away. Last night we looked for it. This morning we looked for it. Nowhere...sigh....no where.

I was making supper. I took out the Spaghetti pot and filled it with water. In the holes of the collander (technical point...the collander inserts into the pasta pot...you know!)...I could see letters...here and there...and white spots here and there. When I fished out the paper...it had been fully immersed...there it was...the missing T4 slip. Like coins in the mouth of a fish...

It snowed last night...the first real snow we have had this winter. I have been waiting...months ago I wrote a spot on this blog about Winter coming to Saskatchewan. I suppose I could have called this...Winter comes to Alberta...but who wants to read about winter in March?

Tage and I drove across the city in the endless pursuit of his vocation and calling. We stopped at a church in a neighborhood I lived in 22 years ago. I used to jog by these beautiful mosaics...they are...you guessed it....the Gospel writers... Back then I wanted to photograph them...and never did. Today...we stopped and took some time to put them back on the front page of my life...22 years later. Pretty stunning pictures...if I say so myself...I love how the guy on the left seems to reading a good book while his buddy watches to see when the next bus is coming. They stand back from the street and snow while they wait. Careful to stay within the shelter...so as not to get snow on their sandaled feet...
I know I go on about life being a big circle but I am often reminded of this and feel compelled to remind you...22 years and they were still there. Waiting patiently for me to take their picture.

As if that wasn't bad enough...

Friday afternoon I boarded a plane from Toronto to head out to Calgary on my way home! It was the end of one of my more frequent trips and I was looking forward to a weekend at home...and away from book business.

A man gray with illness boarded the plane late, and with the help of an attendant placed his bags above his seat. Now when someone looks visibly ill and they get on a plane from Toronto you can't help but think bird flu or SAARS. I tried not to think of it...and had all the success of you trying not to think about candy canes right about now...see what I mean...you thought about them!

About two hours into the flight...I was enjoying my middle seat...when an announcement was made. The flight crew was looking for a doctor. They found one...one who could be a stand in for Donald Sutherland...I wondered what kind of Doctor he was...What if you were a podaitrist and they made that call..would you identify yourself as a doctor. Any how he worked on the gray man for half an hour and had him moved to first class....where someoene surrendered their seat... and came and sat in the sick man's seat. I know...there is probably a sermon illustration in there somewhere!

Within a few moments...he was taken to the back of the plane and laid flat down the aisle. This became a concern to...say....a guy from Devon who had to go to the bathroom. I had to step over him. It was clear he wasn't doing well.

Before another fifteen minutes of " Walk the Line" had passed...the captain informed us we would be stopping in Winnipeg and getting the gray man the medical attention he needed. All in all , he informed us, we would be on the ground a half an hour.

How about two hours. One hour for the paramedics. A half-an-hour to have some guys in white coveralls come in and spray the plane seat and carpet with some sort of disinfectant...and half-na-hour to de-ice the plane. We all like sheep had missed our connections.

I knew this would mean some minor irritants. But for the several families and couples heading to sunny Mexico the night turned dark and ugly. I am not sure...but it seemed to me that some of the people would have preferred to fly with a corpse if it meant they wouldn't miss a free margarita at some all inclusive joint south of the border. For my seatmate, all it meant was he was way past drining his "fruit-juice" he brought on the plane, and had to hit the stewardess for three successive bottles of wine and a couple of beer. I guess if you are gonna miss your flight you might as well work on forgetting your whole day.

When we arrived in Calgary, an hour after I was supposed to arrive home, an "I hate my life" worker from Air Canada greeted us at the gate with vouchers for hotel rooms and breakfast. I went to pick up my luggage which did not arrive, after almost an hour of waiting. When we inquired, we were told our luggage (Edmonton bound) had been set on a special rack. It didn't seem special.

When I phoned the shuttle to arrange a ride to my hotel, I was informed, after spelling my name three times that I did not have a room waiting for me and that I had better check out what was going on with Air Canada. When I went up to see them, which took a long time standing in line I was told that I would get a different hotel room and that they would give me vouchers for a taxi. The taxi line was busy so after another hour I was picked up by a shuttle and dropped off at a hotel. I was given a breakfast voucher which I never used because after four hours of sleep I was back on a plane headed for home...Ah there is no place like home...say it with me...

We call it the ghost church. It was a joke when we moved to the oil patch just south of Edmonton. Some days, from a distance the domes of this beauty glistened in the sun. Some days we couldn't even see it. It was there, it wasn't there. It became a topic of speculation. Is it down this road?

When we found the road. We rolled up to her, she was beautiful in a time worn way. The way you see beauty as you age.

Yesterday, I had a few extra minutes and got to her just as the sun was rising.

We could try and draw conclusions and paralells between a church that shows up sometimes and other times is lost from the horizon. I guess for myself what I see is light! The church is battered and beaten. It has her days of hiddeness and her days of glory...regardless she has a beauty because the light has not yet gone out.

A week of Miracles...

I am reading the advance reader copy of Brian McLaren's new book, "The Secret Message of Jesus". (click on this title to see his interesting web site) In it he give some pretty amazing insights into the miracles of Jesus. He says basically (and far more eloquently) that the miracles of Jesus were a clear indication that the kingdom of heaven was among us. That the King of this Kingdom stopped along the way to heal the blind, open deaf ears, give life to the dead. Kings in Jesus day were like Herod (a puppet king, completely shut out from the reality of his own people) or like Caeser who in there god-like status were far away and relied on a heavy handed army to ensure that his Kingdom was full on about power over the weak. They were not interested in sharing their resources with the common man. They did not find a widow's story compelling or a soldiers request a call for action. He paints a picture of Jesus stopping along the way...having his attention drawn to a mans plea or a womans faith. Basically...he says, miracles are proof that the Kingdom of God is here!

This past week we saw it. I mean not just a few...so many I am sure we will miss a few.

A man had his heart literally explode inside of him. The phone rang during our small group and we were called to the church to pray because the doctors had told the family they didn't know what to do and the man's chest was filling with blood.

The prayer meeting was somber but sincere and news came that he had been moved to the University Hospital and they were going to do surgery. It turns out that the second most famous heart surgeon in North America took on the project. The man is still in intensive care, but he is expected to pull through. His weary wife was in church this morning...she wanted to be there to say thankyou. Cynics may have a lot to say...but the faithful are simply asked to believe.

A mom and dad who have a little guy with down's syndrome stopped by our house with their little guy and bouquet of flowers. Peggy works with him three days a week...and the Mom and Dad wanted to say that this week there little boy had done so many remarkable new things that they wanted to celebrate with Peg. Some might say there is nothing miraculous about that...but I am sure if you asked his parents...they would say it is a miracle...actually when we spend time with there blonde boy...we realise he is a miracle. If you want to see him in action...follow this link and watch the "Miracle Movie"... http://devonsurprise.tripod.com/

Oh and I asked for some help, followed some advice, changed the filter on the furnace, switched it off...switched it on and it came back to life...when I ask for help, when broken things get fixed in my house...(I know it seems insignificant)...to me it is a first class miracle.

Meet the Author...

There is a double meaning to the title of this entry.

First, I have yet to publish a picture of myself on my blog...the issue has been more linked to vanity than privacy. And it is not that this is such a good picture...but it illustrates part of my life that I am quite willing to share with you. I love my job. There I said it...sadly I haven't always been able to say that. During my stint with Statistics Canada my leg ached from the shackle attached to the desk. In the school system I became positively pavlovian when my life was pretty much run by bells. And yes, even in my time as a pastor I did find days where shackles and bells would have seemed like a cakewalk. (note to reader...have you ever been part of a cakewalk...I didn't think so...I have...if you want to know about leave a comment).

Second...yesterday we put on a book signing for a well known author. Some of you may recognise him. I am sure that book signing for authors can be a drag, a routine, a task. And I freely admit that most authors are not people-people. It is hard to be a people person and lock yourself up for hours to write something that other people want to read.

I love the contrast in this picture. Clearly one of us is excited about his job. The other seems to be caught in the realm of expectation and schedule. They are both great guys...and we all have bad picture days. To love your job, to be way over the top excited about what is happening is a gift. Ok I admit it. I was hamming it up for the camera...something my kids taught me...but do you see the contrast? Does it make go ....hmmmmmm

Thought so...

A winter's tail(s)

We had a busy weekend. A weekend cursed by crazy broken things. Our furnace is broken...warms the house up to a wopping 61 degrees and shuts off. Makes noise but does nothing...something like the green party.

Aimee's car is broken. One of my headlights is out. One of Peg's windshield wipers won't work. Its ok though...in time we shall overcome.

Some famous writer once said, "The Sunday service was spectral, but the day itself was divine" It is a hard thing I suppose to wow the crowd every Sunday. Today was one of those days. Sunny and warm in January...can solicit prayers of thanks from the most hardened athiest. We had lunch with our friends and down to the river to walk our dogs. Tessa is the blonde dog in the picture...Daphne is a more sophisticated raven haired beauty. Together they are about as goofy as it gets. They run in circles, bark and chase sticks of every shape. I took a movie of it all today...I posted it on my webpage...you have to be patient while it downloads...but you will feel just like you are there with us...I guarantee it http://devonsurprise.tripod.com/...in case you want to get a feel for what it was like..."the day itself was divine".

Was thinking about a book I want to write...actually during the spectral service...It is closer to the surface than it has been for a long time...you never know what might happen...the story is forming...and transforming in my mind. Fiction...that's all I have to say...fiction lets you move out in writing on your own...into uncharted terrritory. Writing is such a solitarty adventure.

Winter comes to Saskatchewan

One of the more unique aspects of my job is the fact that I travel to towns and places that to most Canadians are just part of a grade 7 geography lesson. It is not that I have always appreciated my assignments to places like Caronport and Moosejaw....in fact I had to really give my head a shake when I was told that Saskatchewan was being added to my territory.

God had prepared me for this almost 20 years earlier. We left the lush lotus land of Abbotsford as recent Bible School grads for the barren, yellow plains of Medicine Hat in 1987. The first time Peg and I drove across southern Alberta I kept saying to her, "There must be some mountains somewhere!" The only thing that broke the horizontal vibe was mountains of sugar beets being mounded at the Sugar refinerys of Taber and Bow Island. Even Bow Island gave no sign of water, a river or even an island!

Our first few weeks of living in Medicine Hat I thought we had moved to the ugliest place on earth! Dry land, parched by summer sun, sagebrush and even cactus...yes cactus.

Can I tell you something? After a few years I discovered some the masterwork of creation in the Prairies. Albertans talk about the wide open sky, and its true! But beyond that there were the incredible thunderstorms, the grainfields and yellow canola. The river valleys made green by the spring runoff. Antelopes and rattlesnakes...and cactus, yes cactus. Beauty is indeed in the eye of the beholder.

This week I drove down the highway from Saskatoon to Moose Jaw. Moose Jaw is one of those places where every house looks like it has a story to tell. Even the High School looks like a Lord Farquar castle in Shrek. There must have been a time when building schools meant a lot to a community. I mean look at this one! Wow...

Just up the street from the school is a neighborhood that seems to be about 100 years old. This great old house seemed to have a post-christmas hang-over. Winter had come to Saskatchewan...even if it missed us in Alberta. To see some real snow on the ground was a treat. Yep...had to go to Saskatchewan to find snow this winter.

Not that Winter is over...by any means. Another treat of Prairie life is the snow that falls in May (or June) and the false warming of late winter is often just a joke with punch line that ends with snow! And guess what no one is laughing.

Cycle 1

I leave tomorrow for Saskatchewan...I hope the roads are good and that I can find some time to take some pictures with my new digital camera...my Christmas present...it should change the way my blog looks.

According to a soldier we prayed for this Sunday in Church, Canada is the only country that is on the Taliban's hit list that hasn't been hit by them. Coincidentally this is also the year that we will be travelling to Toronto a minimum of six times for sales meetings. (Toronto is thought to be the target city, because of the lax security measures) And after seeing "flight plan" I am not sure if I can actually get on a plane again and not feel that there is some sort of conspiracy going down. The movie used the shifty eyed stewardess motif to the max...I always thought they knew more than they were letting on.

Speaking of security measures, the last time I flew from Toronto home was last week. When I was in the cab I took note of what I was wearing and realised I had all the wrong stuff on for the metal detector. I was wearing a sweater with metal zippers up both arms, (no it is not for people who can't dress themselves), a belt I bought in Mexico with at least 25 silver medallions (Viva Zappatta!) on it and my John Fleuvong boots with no less than two zippers on each boot. (Note to self, talk to someone about this zipper thing!). So needless to say I was in a state by the time I got to the gate. I dumped ten pounds of change into the basket, took off my coat and plunged through the detector prepared to suffer the indignities of a strip search. Would you believe not a buzz or whistle, no red lights, no "take off your shoes", no "undo your belt buckle", no "take off your tacky tourist belt from Mexico". Nothing. Kinda makes me worry. I carried at least kilogram of metal through the metal detector.

"Have a great flight!"

New Year...here we go again

Happy New Year... I know, I know...I blew it with the advent thing...the best laid plans of mice and men...um...er...how does that go? So...no problem, I deleted those entries and will now continue to add to my blog in this new year...2006.

To those of you who have grown weary of checking and checking to see if I had anything at all to say...thanks for checking one more time...I do have a few things to say.

I like what a new year can offer. At work it is a fresh start. Forget the fact that you missed your sales goal by a country mile...here we go start again. At home it is a time of change as well. Tage has a driver's license...I don't need to drive anyone anywhere anymore. Between him and Aimee the bases are covered. Peggy and I go a lot of places alone. Just the two of us (this is a benefit)...but I miss that "being needed" part a bit. It seems strange...you would think it would come as a relief...but for whatever reason...I am a little sad about it all.

New years always reminds me of 1969...the year that we moved from the 60's into the 70's. That year my family had relocated to Whitehorse...a fresh start. Moving seemed to be a good way to do that. My dad managed a motel...cleverly named "The Airport Chalet", right by, you guessed it, The Whitehorse International Airport. My brothers and I cleaned the bar of the hotel every Sunday morning. Any money we found we could keep...we found more than money! I was probably the only kid in grade 1 who had a swizzlestick and garnish sword collection to show for show and tell.

For new years my Mom thought it would be funny to dress up my older brother as Father Time and me as a baby to represent the new year. It seemed funny until it seemed like it might really happen. I guess a baby is a good way to represent a new year. I just wasn't going to be that baby. Unless I repressed the memory, I can't remember if I did it or not. Probably not.

We will start with our small group again next week...studying John Eldridge's book Epic. I am looking forward to it. It is exciting to think what we will all experience again together...we took a long break over Christmas...time to start again.

Starting again...we all need to do that from time to time...it is important to draw a line in the sand (or snow) and decide to start again.