Uncategorized

I’m surrounded by life.

Each day, at an early hour, the remote control starter for the car next door works!  The neighbours have arisen to life. 

Our mail is delivered to a Post Box.  Not one of those abandoned ones that sit in lonely suburbs.  Rather, to a bustling rural post office, situated in the middle of town. 

There I exchange greetings, read the latest funeral postings and pay exorbitant prices for stamps.  The gracious cashier knows the whole town, and might even be able to tell you who inhabits which post box.

Internet interaction indicates that hundreds of people are doing thousands of things (we call that multitasking). 

My brother, in the far reaches of Canada’s west, is renovating a house.  My brother in the central region of Canada is teaching Koine Greek.  My sister in the south of the province is being an artist, another sister is training for nursing, and another sister is doing her calligraphy thing.

And another brother is dead.  Cancer stricken at 50 years of age a decade ago.  We mourn the loss.  We live the loss.

Life has a way of squeezing its way into our pores and capturing our breath.  We may forget our last breath taken.  Merely a step to the next breath.  And the next.  And the next.

I had nothing to do with making that breath.  So, I’m going to be thankful to the God who did give me breath today.

Rejoice, be glad, and take that next breath..

In the last week or so, I have posted links almost daily links to this blog on Facebook. 

I wanted to increase the audience, even though that may not increase the readership (a blog for another day).

This morning I checked with my wife.  She had not seen any of the posts. 

I rushed to my computer and took a look.  All the posts were there.

I proceeded back to my wife and asked her to check again.  The status updates were not there. 

I rushed back to my computer (I’m starting to get winded by now!).  I looked all over the screen.

How could this be?

Of course, it was just one small button.  In the right hand corner.  Set to a default from a number of posts ago.  The people who could view my status were on a “custom list”.  A small “custom list”.  Without my wife’s name.

I pushed the button to make the status public, and low and behold my wife yelled out to me, “It’s there”. 

I guess life is all about one button at a time!

“The other day” – a great way to start a story.  Much better than “once upon a time”.

Oops, got sidetracked – is that ADHD or just having too much in my brain I can’t slow down to write this blog.  I vote for the latter!

Anyways, the other day someone asked me why I hadn’t made more of my life.  A little context here:  He was a new acquaintance.  I was giving him my bio and explaining who I am.

When you are in  your sixties you learn two ways to storytell your life experiences. 

The first is the long version, which usually adds a few embellishments and hopefully keeps the audience on the edge of their seats.  The length is irrelevant to the impact that you hope to have on your hearers.

The second is the abbreviated version, learned over years of having to say the same thing over and over.  Your hope is to cover your lifespan in sixty seconds.

I had given the abbreviated version, including such things as finishing two masters degrees, serving in administration in a post-secondary education facility, and being a pastor.

Somehow this person envisioned someone with my background as having gone somewhere, done something, been someone.  None of which seemed to be contained in my short resume.

Well, I have done all those things.  Just not the way he expected.

I’m back  home.  Retired in a small town.  Content to let the world go by while I focus on an area of service I think is important. 

I’m more convinced than ever that God has a wonderful plan for the rest of my life, and death is part of it. 

So getting grandiose ideas of our worth is a colossal waste of time.  Hang out with your creator, hang in with your fellow man (in the generic sense), and do what you like! 

Then you’ll rather enjoy ending up with your creator when you die, you’ll still get to hang out with people, and I understand the destination brochure for heaven resides on the same shelf as party-time excursions.

And so, hopefully, I will be content to know that I have a little taste of heaven, here and now, in this humble village I call home.

We all want to be published.

Of course, you have to understand the word “published.”

In a very simple way, the meaning relates to making something public.

For some of us this is scary.  The end result of aversion to being published is becoming a recluse and a hermit.  As I have learned recently, from stories of neighbours and friends, this can lead to dying without friends – anyone checking on you to be sure you are alive.  That story sends chills down my spine, and then back up!

For others of us, being published is a wish come true.  You’ve all met the person who lives, quite literally, off the breath and excitement of being surrounded by their public.  Without that contact they wither and become the walking dead.

And somewhere in between . . . Well, I hope I fall there.  Not dependent on whether people like me or not.  But desiring to be public to serve others.  Or as one famous personage of years past said, “Love your neighbour.”

So, I’m off to write.  I’ve garnered a few local outlets – places I can write a column of print.  My hope is that, in making the words public, there will be a benefit to people.  I’ll let you know where you can find those words – once they get “published.”