Author: Ron Baker

I’m seeing things anew.  Although that means a different prescription for reading glasses, it also means seeing the stars better.  The farther away, the clearer they seem.

So, stepping from my car the past few nights I’ve looked to the sky.  And I’ve been reminded that I could not make this sky.

This is the same feeling I had when I was around 8 or 9.  I’d check out the world around me.  I knew there had to be a God.  Up there, and close to me.

I’ve since learned the theological terms, but in my heart I still identify God in simple kid’s terms.  He’s here and He’s there.

Simple as that.

There are some things you just can’t plan for.  You can surmise, and even project – but death is often unplanned.

So with Doreen Whitfield.  Although she had a stroke a few short months ago, no timeline could be given for her demise.  Thankfully it was quicker than prolonged.  On Tuesday morning she passed away.  Today we were rejoicing that she has a better home as we planned the funeral service.

Meanwhile, other activities will await completion as I complete preparation for her funeral.  This will be an enjoyable meeting, with much joy and mirth. 

Check it out – Friday at 2:00 at the Kindersley Alliance Church.

A new musical piece was first premiered for our lieutenant governor today (Monday).  Although we had heard this composition in partial form, the full woodwind quintet played at a special luncheon.

Vanessa is a young composer we have encouraged over the years.  She is focused on her music and does an amazing job. 

And so, before a crowd of people, her musical imagination shone forth.  We are so glad to have been able to be there and to continue to support her musical growth.

By the way – the quintet did a great job of presenting the piece of creativity focused on harvest time.

For years I have arisen each day and placed glasses upon my nose.  The habit is perpetual, practiced and persistent.

Now, after cataract surgery, I only use reading glasses. 

Some mornings I wander back to my dresser to find my glasses.  Even though I can see perfectly well.  Even though I know in my head they are not necessary.

But I’m still looking for the ghost glasses that should be upon my nose.

Maybe that’s my halloween costume – a pair of ghost glasses no longer needed placed upon a willing nose demanded by a practice of decades.

I could stand, holding my candy bag open, pushing my ghost glasses up as I explain that this is indeed a costume.  This is nothing like what I would normally wear.  In fact, I have a totally new face, a mask people have never seen before.

Or, I can just stay home!