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The latest issue of “Faith Today” has an article on Facebook usage.  Written by a woman, some of the disadvantages of Facebook are the addiction, the “high” that you get from friending people for the sake of stroking your own ego, and even the matter of time management.

I like Facebook for the communication potential.  Particularly for our youth.  I’m still getting used to those in teens and twenties (and even into thrities) who use text messaging constantly.  I was talking with some grandparents who had taken their granddaughter out for lunch.  While I talked directly to the “old generation”, the granddaughter held her cell phone (a nice lime coloured one) below table level across from her grandparents.  Not to give the cell phone an open space to the air, but to read and respond to text messages.

Now, we have had the same thing with the previous generation and television.  A few decades ago visiting a friend meant that the TV was turned off.  Now, we almost expect that the TV will stay on as background noise, if not loud enough to hear the score or see the plot line developing. 

Which brings me to the question of listening. 

Facebook doesn’t require listening.  Using Facebook means we deliver what we want to say.  Others may comment, but often even that is just “commenting from our perspective.”  Someone has said that Facebook is not good for sorrow.  Text messaging may also be the same.

Watching TV and visiting doesn’t require listening.  The TV story line takes precedence – it may give fodder for some discussion but more often it dominates by telling instead of listening. 

There was something about a board games night where there was as much talk about life as about the game.  Or that most unusual thing we call a sit down meal – no radio or TV, no other diners interrupting, no agenda than just being with the other person.  Or how about tea time, not “Tim’s time”, where you are with others and no others are there to interrupt your discussion.

OK, I’m in the midst of too much technology, information overload and a lack of face time with others.  I’m not against technology, information or large group opportunities.  I’m just trying to balance my life.  What does that look like?  Any comments would be appreciated.

Sunday evening the favoured football team (my favourite!) lost.  This was the last game of the season, the finals!  To get this far was exemplary.  To lose was disappointing.  But as this province is fond of saying – “there’s always next year.”

Monday and Tuesday I have been watching books.  In an attempt to get some final cataloguing done I’ve slipped into a basement where the books are housed.  At any spare moment.  My calculation says that I should be done in less than 10 hours of work.  My only problem is that I find sparing that many hours means a week or two of time.  But soon the tedious work will be done.

My other watching regards our son’s next holiday season.  We’re not sure when that will happen (he’s on board a ship working in stage management).  Perhaps for Christmas.  Perhaps not.  We’ll just watch to see what happens.

It’s as though the whole idea of the Advent season gets put into my daily life.  Anticipation, wondering and hope fit into this season.  And so, I’m learning what that means in new ways.

I wonder what the next area of watching and waiting will be?  Perhaps that blizzard that I hope will come each year (but never really does), will materialize in the next few days.  Or not!

We’ll see.  Keep watching!

Since March I have been on assignment. 

Tim Crump, a friend of mine, asked me to prepare his books and help to sell them.  This was not a selfish request.   This was a request given on his death bed. Before his passing he added a codicil to his will, requesting that I complete this task on behalf of his estate.

I have taken this seriously, while trying to accomplish this task along with my regular tasks in life.  Until this past week, this seemed to have been a task that just grew.  Over 3,500 volumes were to be found in his library.  Even with scanning equipment I was often only able to catalog around 50 volumes an hour, sometimes fewer.  And the hours proved to be few as well – life can be crowded!!

So, this past week I put a push on.  And now I can see a finish line approaching.  Probably only 12 hours of cataloguing is still needed.  My goal is to finish before the year ends. 

At that point the family will be given opportunity to pick books they would like for their own libraries.  Then we will sell the remaining volumes.

I feel privileged to have been given this task.  And now, as I see an end in sight, I’m glad that I will be able to honor Tim’s wishes.  These are the tasks that love calls us to, and lovingly done expresses the godly task of loving our neighbors.  To those who oversee Tim’s estate, thank you for the opportunity!

I suppose every day has 24 hours.  And every week 7 days.  And every year 365 days (other than leap years!).

So why is it that we say – that was a long day?

I suppose there is a toll that stretches the minutes internally within ourselves.  A heavy hearted day means that the minutes weigh upon us, slowing us down.  A light hearted day means laughter puts a bit of helium into our steps, raising us above our problems.

Days that are longest can be either heavy or light.  When we are criticized, minimized, categorized, marginalized or even just laughed at, our steps getting longer, and our day stretches interminably. 

“Burdens are lifted at Calvary,” is an appropriate phrase from an old hymn our parents used to sing.  In that situation, we place the burden of our day on Jesus.  Easier said than done.  But when done, when we accept that we are burdened and that we cannot carry it all ourselves, somehow just even speaking out a prayer that shoves the burdens Jesus way is helpful. 

A few days ago I prayed for someone whose burdens frightened me – only Jesus could truly understand them!   I’m not sure that we solved all the problems, but we headed in the right direction. 

Reposition the burdens of your long day.  Sleep well!