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Yesterday was the day to party with my mother.  The Ross Payant Nursing Home in Assiniboia, Saskatchewan held their annual Christmas dinner.  I was able to attend with my sister, Nadia.  Following the lunch, we both headed over to see my other sister, Brenda, who lives in LaFleche.

Mom was in good form, quite enjoyable, although not much talking.  I sat and held her hand and just enjoyed her company.  When I had walked through the door, she immediately waved.  I think I look like my father, so there was probably some recognition, although her dimentia has progressed enough that she seldom knows who anyone is.

The entertainment for the day was a young man, Scott, who played accordion.   My sister, Nadia, found that rather funny, thinking that I would be in my glory since I had played accordion when I was younger.  Having said that, there is a reason why I no longer play accordion!!

The day began at 6:30 on the road.  The trip is approximately five hours one way.  I was able to be back home around 7:15 in the evening.  By 9:00 I was in Swift Current, picking up my sister, Nadia.  We had a pleasant trip there and back, exchanging notes on happenings in our life and just generally having one of those bonding times that brothers and sisters have.

The visit to my sister’s also included coming home with a breadmaker.  I can hardly wait to try it out!!

In the past I’ve mentioned some of the slogans that seem to have a life of their own in my life.  I placed some of these on my mirror to remind me.  Just in case the house burns down, or I never look in the mirror again, I thought they might be good to have in another place.  So, here are some of those.

Submitted to Christ, Committed to the Community, Eager to Serve

Grant me marathon strength and radical gratitude.  I want to see Thee more clearly, love Thee more dearly, follow Thee more nearly day by day (Col. 1)

Give more than you get and you’ll get more than you need.

For the Christian, death is the easy part.  Life is the challenge.

Jesus, I want fire, not ice; something lively, not just nice.  Power for service, discipline in all things, stories to tell and songs to sing. (August 2006)

“It’s not a good measure of health to be well adjusted in a profoundly sick society.”  (Christianity Today – July/August 2012, p.56)

Ever had one of those series of conversations?  The type that starts innocently, and a few days after another interaction, until finally in the coming hours you encounter other thoughts along the same line?

Well, a few weeks ago I stood in someone’s house who only uses butter.  And not an overly large amount.  On the other hand, I love my margarine.  I use it as a spread.

In the last few days I’ve talked with others who speak of the wonders of butter. 

Now, understand this.  My heritage was a family who used butter.  Margarine was reserved for some cooking, but toast and other goodies saw butter and not the processed oils of margarine.

Thus, today I’m processing the thought that perhaps butter, used sparingly, could be a better thing than margarine used widely.  Not sure I’m ready for a conversion, but there is much good to what has been said.  Perhaps a gradual switch could work.  Or maybe cold turkey!

I’ll see where this goes!  Could be interesting – and might even get a sermon illustration out of it.

The tree is slowly getting decorated.  I have placed a number of shiny bulbs which always highlighted the tree.

The latest decorations are in memory of my wife, Jill. 

The one to the left is a tree root from a bush in the back of our yard.  When we rototilled the garden area 8 years ago, we found a number of plants that were extraneous or just plain weeds. 

One bush stood out.  The leaves were red, a color  Jill always appreciated in plants.  They reminded her of Ontario, her birthplace!  So we tended this plant – and this year, in memory of Jill, I tried a transplant to the front yard.  Didn’t work out well and I was left with a reminder that death comes. 

So, I took the root of the plant, the source from which all the rest of beauty flows, and preserved the root.  I’ve had it sitting in the house as a reminder of Jill’s life (the bright colors of red would describe her approach to life) and of her death (the root is shaped as a shepherd’s staff – a guide for sheep as they make their way through life). 

The second ornament is a rose.  Understand that I did not buy Jill flowers (a quirk of mine!).  But upon her death a number of flowers arrived.  This was a single rose that arrived upon the anniversary of the first month of her death.  Sent by an anonymous donor – reminding me of the greatness of Jill’s life.  She was a true rose, a plant that prospered despite hardship and tough circumstances (those thorns of life) and always came out smelling like a rose with the beauty of the petals displayed daily.

Now these two ornaments hang on my Christmas tree to be viewed each day – a look back in memory of Jill.