Stress Can Be Good Or Bad

There is a certain amount of stress that’s good for you.

If we didn’t have any stress in our lives we probably wouldn’t get anything done. We would resort to saying, “Oh maybe I’ll do that tomorrow” … and tomorrow would never come.

If there was no stress, we would procrastinate … and some of us would procrastinate more.

Stress keeps us on our toes; it moves and motivates us, makes us feel responsible, and gets us to the deadline. 

These are all good things; we need a little stress in our lives. When stress builds up in us too much, however, it’s not good.

This last week I went golfing with my family. We hardly ever golf together because some of us hardly ever golf.

My son, Mike, and I golf the most, and Lily golfs with me when we’re on vacation. Karlie hasn’t golfed in two years.

Mike had a week of vacation and thought it would be nice to get a game in with the family. We looked at a couple of courses that would be within driving distance for all of us.

We ended up choosing a course that would be better suited for Mike and I and not Lily and Karlie. We got a really good deal on it so we booked it. 

Shortly after the arrangements had been made, Lily told me not to get all stressed, because that would impact the rest of the family. 

I have to tell you, I tried not to stress about it. I even prayed about it. 

Back when I was learning to golf, I felt pressure to keep up, to not hold up other golfers, whether I was golfing with them or they were in the group behind me. 

So knowing that this course was a little long for my wife and daughter, and knowing we were playing early in the morning, by the time I got to the course I was already tense.

I was definitely not relaxed. 

Even before we teed off, I was concerned about how quickly the next group would catch up to us and if we would be holding them up. … and I felt this even though there was no group behind us! 

All I can say is my game didn’t get off to a fantastic start … and it was all downhill from there. 

I could not get myself to relax and simply enjoy some time with my family. I was tense and hit more bad shots in that game than I’ve hit all season long so far. 

I kept looking back for the group behind us. I felt responsible to watch where everyone’s shot ended up. I constantly kept telling Lily and Karlie what they might be doing wrong when they hit bad shots. 

The crazy thing was they all got better as the round went on but I got worse. And that group behind us never did catch up and have to wait for us.

Here’s the thing: We are told in scripture to give our burdens to the Lord … but stress is a difficult burden to let go of when you’re in the middle of it. So first stop and recognize the stress, what it is, where it’s coming from, and how it’s affecting you. Then tell the Lord you want to give Him that stress. Third, focus, embrace, enjoy, immerse yourself in the task at hand. Doing that will shift your emotions and allow you to let go of the stress. 

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: How has stress got the best of you? Leave your comments below.

When You Fall, Get Back Up

There is a saying that when you fall off a bike you should get right back on it again. 

The saying doesn’t specifically refer to riding a bike, rather it’s a reference to anything you fail at. You should get right back at it and do it again.

We’ve all followed that rule with many things in life, including riding our bikes. 

When that first date didn’t go so well, you didn’t stop dating; you got right back at it. When you didn’t make that team, you didn’t stop playing the game. 

When you failed a test you didn’t quit school, and when you stubbed your big toe, you didn’t stop going barefoot, and resort to wearing steel-toed boots to bed.

No, you got right back at what you were doing. That’s what we’re supposed to do. 

There are some things, however, that are harder to get right back to.

I remember one time as a kid that I got sick after eating corn on the cob. The corn had nothing to do with me being sick, but as I was losing my lunch over the toilet bowl, the sight of …. you get the idea and the picture. 

I couldn’t look at corn for a long time. After that incident I didn’t eat it at all for a few years. 

But slowly, my love of corn returned and I did eventually get back on the bike and start eating it again. 

In fact, when I was in high school at a youth event, in a challenge with another guy, I ate something like 18 cobs of corn! … No, I was not sick after that, but I did feel like I was waddling around for a few hours.

I say all that because, though we are supposed to get right back up when we fail or have a bad experience, it’s just difficult to do sometimes.

That’s what I’m experiencing these days. I haven’t been riding on a trail all week. There have been some days when the weather hasn’t been good, but many days when it’s been a perfect day for a ride. 

Instead, every day I’ve chosen to ride on the road.

The reason? The last time I rode my trail, I stopped to build a new section. When I got back to the cottage, I found another tick. (You can read about the first tick I brought home here.)

I’m two for two. Both times I’ve worked on a new section of trail, I’ve brought home a tick. … I hope it’s only been two! 

This one I found on the bath mat just outside the shower. I take it that the tick didn’t feel like having a shower with me.

I haven’t hit the trails since; these two ticks are keeping me out of the woods. I now have a partial trail that leads to nowhere. 

Fear of what could happen – and Lily not being too excited about the friends I’ve invited in – have stopped me so far. 

I may not finish that trail but I just have to get back to mountain biking. 

Here’s the thing: Sometimes it can be something very small – even as small as a tick – that stops you from going deeper with God. What does God want next for you? What failure, fear, or distraction is keeping you from moving forward with Him? Get back on your bike and ride. Go deeper with God. 

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What has ever stopped you in your tracks? Leave your comments below.

The Years Have Not Changed A Pattern

It’s been over 30 years but nothing has changed … between me and my golf partner. Recently I played golf with him, the one who got me hooked on the game.

When I was in high school he belonged to a private golf course, but would play golf with me at a municipal course close to where we lived.

At first I would hit more bad shots than good ones, but over time it seemed that the good ones stuck with me and I forgot about the bad shots I made.

I think it’s something like giving birth: a mother forgets what the pain was really like so that she is eager to have another child. … Okay, it’s nothing like giving birth, but somehow the good shots I made – as few as they were – kept me coming back for more.

I think I was a slow learner because this friend would give me a lot of tips each time I duffed another shot about 20 yards down the fairway. 

He didn’t do it too much, though, because too many suggestions can really get annoying after a while. … I know because I’ve helped Lily with her golf game. I have to catch myself or she gets a little angry with me.

Over the first few years I started to get better at the game until I was making more good shots than bad ones.  

I would still have some holes where I blew up and shot an eight or something, but it always seemed, by the end of each round, that I had made a really good shot that caused me to think I could do that every time. 

As I got better, I started playing more with my friend and even eventually joined the golf club where he was a member. 

We had a few really great years of golf there before I moved out west to go to school and then work.

In those years that we played together, he would do something interesting. He would club me on almost every shot. 

I don’t mean that he took a golf club and whacked me over the head with it; he just told me what club I should use. 

He did it when I first started learning the game and he never stopped. 

It got so routine that sometimes I would just look at him and he would say, “use a 7 iron”. I would pull it out of my bag without a thought of questioning his suggestion.

He was right about 95% of the time … that’s if I hit the ball well.

That was our pattern. But that was also over 30 years ago. 

When I recently had the chance to play with my old friend again, I noticed something interesting. When I would get to my ball he, like clock work, as if it was automatic, would say, “use a 7 iron” … and I just pulled it out of my bag. 

There were even times when I didn’t say anything. I just looked at him and he would tell me. 

It was like we’d never stopped playing together; he was still helping me play better.

And somehow I had the same effect on him. He had his best round of the year so far.

Here’s the thing: Get in the habit of asking God for help, even with the little things in your day. If you start to include Him more and more in your decisions, and really listen for His response, then years from now when you are making some crucial decision, or even a minor one, God will whisper in your ear which club to pull. 

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: Who have you come to count on for help? Leave your comments below.

I Got Sold An Inferior Product

Is it ever okay to stand behind an inferior product? Is there ever a time that it’s acceptable to sell a poor quality item?

The other day I found someone who thinks so.

I was doing a little project at our cottage, trying to close in the sides of our deck by building frames and then attaching vinyl siding to them. 

The project was going well, but then I ran out of wood for the frames. I needed more 1×3 strapping, so off I went to the closest lumber store to get some more.

I purchased the lumber at a service counter and then drove my vehicle out back to pick the pieces up from the yard. 

The employee who was assisting me began pulling the 1×3’s from the rack and laying them out for me. When I first saw the pieces he was pulling, I thought he was putting them in a reject pile. I soon learned that this was the lumber he was offering me.

I started to take a closer look at them and replied, “This is no good, and this one’s no good either.”

After I rejected several pieces, the attendant asked me what I was using them for. 

When he heard that I was building frames with the wood, his response was, “Maybe you should be buying pine; it’s a much nicer wood.”

“It’s also a lot more expensive and I’m covering my frames with siding. I don’t need them to look really nice,” I replied.

He went back to pulling planks out of the pile. I kept rejecting half of them.

And then he said this: “You know this is strapping, don’t you?” … The look on his face and his attitude was really saying, “You know this is cheap wood; it’s not that good. You really need to take what you get.”

I was a little ticked at this point, looked at him and said, “You have given me nothing but the pieces that have already been rejected by other people. I’m agreeing to take four of them. You’ve done well at getting rid of your junk, so keep at it.” 

I wasn’t in need of 50 pieces or even 25 or 10 pieces of wood. All I needed was 6, and that guy did nothing but go through all the crappy pieces that had already been picked over! 

I ended up taking 6 pieces home, but when I started to use them, some of them were so badly warped that I had to take 2 pieces back. 

I may go somewhere else to get those final two pieces of strapping.

I guess the thing that bugged me the most was his attitude. He seemed to think it was reasonable to sell wood that was pretty much unusable.

I just needed some straight wood. How do you build frames with wood that is wrapped like a Bobby Hull hockey stick? 

If I was buying a pallet of strapping, I would accept that there would be some pieces that were unusable. But for only 6 pieces, I needed all of them to be good ones.

Here’s the thing: The world is trying to sell us an inferior product. It’s selling us a lie that this is all there is; there is nothing beyond this life. God says there is an eternity, and the life we have now is only a fragment. So don’t put all your hopes, dreams, and ambitions into this world … you’re only buying a cheap life. Instead, establish a relationship with God and enjoy real, full, everlasting life. 

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What inferior set of goods have you been sold? Leave your comments below.

A Tick On The Loose

A clock goes tick-tick, in movies a bomb will tick down to detonation, and at times I have been ticked at something or someone. 

But the other day, I came face to face with a plain old tick – that’s right, that little critter that has become feared by even the strongest of men. 

Lily spotted it first and called me over. We both looked at it and determined that, yes, it was a tick. 

It was crawling on the wall behind our stove. How it got there we have no idea. But it was a little unsettling … especially when Lily, who really wanted to kill it fast, lost it behind the stove. 

She went to scoop it up in a paper towel but somehow the slow moving tick evaded her attack. 

These things don’t travel very fast. After we spotted it, and stood looking at it for a few minutes, I took a few pictures of it. We looked it up on the internet and, in all that time, it had not moved more than a few inches, despite the fact that it never stopped crawling. 

When we lost it, we had to move the stove out and look to see if any of the tiny little crumbs that had collected there over the past year of so were moving. 

Lily thoroughly mopped the area and hoped we got it. 

“Hoped?!”, I said. “You mean we don’t even know if we got the little tick or not?” 

He could be crawling around the cottage looking for someone to snack on. 

How it got in we have no idea.

We have three main theories: I could have brought it in on my biking clothes. A couple of days before I had been walking through the woods, scouting out where to make a new trail to bike on. 

I could have brought it in on my clothes when I washed the cottage siding. I was rubbing against a big tall cedar hedge for about a half hour. 

The other option is that it got in when Lily was cleaning the windows.

We don’t really know if any of these theories are right, but what we do know is that every little speck that we see in the cottage we have to stare at. 

We get up close and personal with every crumb to check it out to see whether it is moving or not. 

They say that finding a needle in a hay stack is difficult; well we have that beat – we don’t even know if there is anything in the hay stack after all!

Why couldn’t Lily have just been more careful in squishing that tick? Now we have these bad dreams that a tick is going to crawl on us at night and give us lime disease. 

One major inconvenience for me is that apparently none of my biking clothes can enter the cottage any more. They have to stay outside on the deck. 

Supposedly a tick can live for 2-3 days indoors before it dies. We will just have to wait it out and check ourselves to see if it has found a home.

Here’s the thing: Some people are more afraid of being bitten by a tick than of what they will face at the end of their lives. A tick bite might affect the rest of your life on earth, but not being concerned or taking precautions about your eternity can be eternally devastating. It’s best to be proactive with God, and ensure you have a relationship with Him now.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: How has a potential life-altering experience changed your outlook on life? Leave your comments below.

It Was Perfect Timing

Nothing is really perfect, but this week I experienced perfect timing. 

Perfect timing is a moment in time when different things come together with an incredible result. 

You could say it’s perfect timing when you take a picture of a sunset and a seagull flies in front of the setting sun just as you snap the shot. 

You could also say it’s perfect timing when two people see a Volkswagen Beetle and, at the same time, scream “punch buggy!” It doesn’t happen often these days, but there was a time when you could end up with a bruised arm or leg because of those words. 

… If you didn’t understand that last sentence, just ask a child of the 50’s or 60’s about it. 

Perfect timing is a marvel; it’s like you scored a goal, or set a new record. Perfect timing is one of those things that causes you to say, “Hey, did you see that?” 

A story of something that is perfectly timed has to be told. It’s not something you just forget about and move on from. 

No, perfect timing is legend material.

This year at the beginning of spring I knew we needed a new lawn mower. I had a hard time starting it, and it was rusting out … to the point that you could see through a section of the deck to where the blade was spinning. 

I had hoped we could get a little more action out of it, but the next time I used it, the mower was even harder to start. And once I got it going, it seemed really old … like an old dog that needs a little assistance to jump up onto the couch, or an old man who seems to be walking in slow motion. 

This mower just wasn’t cutting it any more.

But since it’s the mower for the cottage, I didn’t want to have to buy a new one. After all, my grass only takes me seven minutes to cut. 

The next time we were there, I tried – for longer than it would have taken me to cut the grass – to get that engine to turn over. I couldn’t get it going at all.

I told Lily that I thought the mower was dead, and that we needed to get another one. I looked on Kjiji but there was nothing. I looked for repair shops that sold used lawnmowers but didn’t turn up any results. 

We were just going to have to be on the lookout. 

About an hour later, Lily and I headed out to do a grocery run. We passed a house where a guy was rolling out a lawnmower to the end of his driveway. 

I said, “Hey Lil, look at that!” and hit the brakes. I turned the car around and pulled into the driveway before the man had even walked back to his house. 

We asked him if it worked well, he replied, “Give it a pull.” It started immediately.

I threw that lawnmower in the back of our SUV and handed him forty bucks – no sense haggling over that price!

I’m sure the only thing the guy was ticked about was that he went to the trouble of making a “for sale” sign to stick on it.

That’s perfect timing!

Here’s the thing: Lil and I had prayed that God would provide an inexpensive replacement for our mower. Within an hour, one guy was marching one out to the end of his driveway. Perfect timing is when you seek God for something and He delivers an answer. 

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What answer have you received that was perfect timing? Leave your comments below.

I Wish Clothing Sizes Were Consistent

I thought the idea behind clothing sizes was to provide a universal standard so you could easily find things that fit. 

Obviously, I was wrong in my thinking. 

It’s been over a month since my birthday and I’m finally able to wear the shirt my daughter gave me as a present. 

Getting the right size should have been easy, but obviously people have different comfort levels when considering the fit of something.

For instance, I normally take a size 8 to 8.5 shoe, but when I buy skates, I look for a size five … not because skate sizes are all messed up, but because I like to cram my foot into my skate with no space at the toe and no room for even a thin pair of socks. 

It’s just personal taste. 

I’m not talking about personal taste here, though; I’m talking about the same size in one brand not being the same as the same size of another brand. 

Are you following me? 

Some clothing companies size their clothes differently than other manufacturers. It destroys the whole concept of size and gives the customer absolutely no confidence in what size a shirt he or she should buy.

For my birthday my daughter bought me a size small shirt. But when I tried it on, it was very tight – way too tight! 

So I exchanged it at the store for a size up. The clerk at the counter had another employee go get me the same shirt in a medium. We filled out the paper work for the exchange and away I went, happy that it was all going to work out. 

When I got home, I put the shirt on to show Lily, and to my amazement it was too small as well. 

I know what you’re thinking, that I’ve gained weight and don’t want to admit that I’m getting bigger. 

On the contrary, in the last year and a half I’ve lost some weight and have had to downsize a lot of my clothes. 

Leaving the store I was confident that a medium was the right size. I had thought medium would be the right size even before I tried on the small my daughter had bought me. 

When the medium didn’t fit, I was shocked …. Me? A large? It didn’t seem right to me. 

So back to the store I went … again. This time I was taking no chances; I wanted to try the shirt on before I left the store. 

Amazingly the large fit perfectly. I hope the sizes go up to quadruple XL or a lot of people won’t be able to buy that shirt. 

There is something wrong with the clothing industry if they can’t get sizing right. An inch is an inch; a centimetre is a centimetre. Use rulers, people, and get your sizes right!

Oh, and why this all took over a month to solve is because we don’t have this particular store in Kingston. I had to travel to Toronto twice to finally get the right size.

Here’s the thing: Unlike some clothes we buy, God is consistent. He will not deal with you with different standards or in a way you can’t predict. God also knows you so well that He will fit you with a purpose, plan, and help that is perfect for you and your shape. Seek and trust Him daily for everything you will encounter.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What are you perfectly fitted for? Leave your comments below.

Hockey Should Be A Summer Sport

I played hockey the other day, and it was 30 degrees Celsius (86 F) outside … not your standard hockey weather.

Inside the arena it was a cool 11 degrees and the ice surface was about -17 … not really shorts and T-shirt weather. 

But there is something nice about going to play hockey in shorts and sandals as opposed to parkas and boots.

When you think about it, when it’s hot outside there is no better place to cool down than in a frosty, cool arena. … I’m surprised that more people don’t show up to watch whatever game is being played just to keep their core temperatures down.

On those days when there are weather warnings to stay out of the heat, especially for seniors and those with breathing problems, don’t stay in your home, or hot apartments. Head down to your nearest arena and check out a game.

… Maybe bring your skates and get right out on the ice for some pleasure skating. 

In the winter the local rink is the place you go to play hockey, but in the summer the rink is a refreshing place to spend a few hours. 

In the summer some arenas take the ice out to do maintenance and to run ball hockey leagues, but that really defeats the benefits of a place to cool off. 

We have public swimming pools to get some relief from the heat of summer, but you have to get all wet and bring a change of clothes for that. 

At the arena all you need is a windbreaker or a sweater and you are set. If it gets too cool for you, just go out to the lobby for a few minutes.

When you need a break but are not near a lake, when the steam is coming off the pavement and you are looking for some kind of oasis in the distance, what you need is an arena. 

How did we get this all wrong? Hockey should be a summer sport! We should be packing arenas; people would pay just to get inside a cooler place for a while. 

And maybe we should build domes over golf courses and enjoy playing golf in the winter to give us a break from the cold. 

For so much of the winter I trudge through the snow, hauling my hockey bag in from the parking lot. Summer hockey is so much nicer. 

My buddy and I were leaving the arena the other day after about an hour and a half on the ice. We both remarked that there is nothing better than coming out of the rink with no coat, no socks, and the sun licking your face.

So these summer nights, right after dinner when you’re thinking maybe you should go for an ice cream cone, stop; turn the car around and head to your local arena. Check out the action and stay cool. It’s gonna be a hot one.

Here’s the thing: In the summer we can get derailed from spending time with God – there are vacations, all the great weather and relaxed schedules. When you’re away on vacation, check out another church. Meet with God out on your deck, or in a park. Don’t let the change of pace in the summer cause you to distance yourself from God. Enjoy your time with Him in new and fresh ways.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: How do you plan to stay connected to God this summer? Leave your comments below.

My Replacement Blog

From time to time I republish a previously published post. This post was written and published in the summer of 2013. I hope you enjoy it. 

It’s not easy writing these blogs, you know. Sure, it’s only 500 to 600 words; some people can speak that many words in a minute or two. But it’s not the actual writing that’s difficult.  

I remember when I was a kid. To write 500 words was a death sentence! It’s only a page of words, but when I was young I didn’t have that much to say. Plus, I’m a male and we can say lots with just a look on our face or a few non-intelligible sounds.

The tough thing about writing is the critiquing of what I write. Today I wrote a killer blog.  I thought it was one of my best, so I was anxious for someone to read it. I kept asking my wife, “Have you read it yet?”

I think my asking got her more intrigued with it, so she finally got on her computer and took a look. Everything was going well for the first 3 paragraphs. And then she stopped.

“You can’t write about that.” she said. I replied, “Keep reading”, thinking that maybe when she digested the whole blog she would have a change of mind. But after every paragraph she would stop and say the same thing.

Now, I don’t mind when she says, “Your grammar was really bad on that one” or “the punctuation needs some work.”  I don’t even mind when she says, “You should rephrase that.”  She has great ideas some times. After all, she does all the editing for my blog site.

The thing that I do mind, the thing that is tough to hear, is the content can’t be published. I spent some quality time writing my blog today and when I was finished I was proud of my work.

But now no one is going to read it. I wish I could publish it, and share it with others, but because it’s about a close family member, I’ve been instructed to keep it in the vault.

I ran into this problem several years ago when my kids became teenagers. I used to use illustrations in my sermons that were about things my kids did, or experienced. When they were young they loved hearing me tell stories about them. 

But for some reason, by the time they hit about 12 or 13, I was finding that I needed to ask for permission if I was going to speak about them in church. Eventually, I thought it best to just leave them out of it. So for many years they have been missing from my sermon content.

Maybe they’re happy about it. Maybe they don’t do or say things that are as “preachable” as they did when they were kids. But one thing is for sure, censorship doesn’t just revolve around the CRTC (Canadian Radio & Television Commission). 

Most of you would have liked my blog. You would have laughed, and been concerned. Some of you, who know my family well, would have had some follow up questions that you really needed answers to. 

But unfortunately, you won’t get a change to read it. So just forget I mentioned my killer blog that I can’t publish. This will have to do as a replacement.

Here’s the thing: Sometimes we want to do things that God doesn’t want us to do. He doesn’t force us, but if we continue, we might cause harm to ourselves or others. We can be stubborn and do it anyway, but the benefits of listening to God’s wisdom may save us a lot of heartache.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: How have you benefitted by not doing something you really wanted to do?  Leave your comment below.

Your Name Is More Than An Identifier

Other than being an identifier, what’s in a name? 

You can tell people apart with a name, but names also have meanings. When you place a name on a newborn child, there is more to it than how it sounds. There are many books and websites devoted to listing the meanings behind names.

But we don’t just pick names based on their meaning; names have to go together or fit. 

I have a cousin named Dave, whose name is actually John David. My aunt didn’t like the sound of David John, so she named him John David and called him Dave.

Last week I got together with some high school buddies. One of the boys had come back from out west to visit, so nine of us met at a restaurant in Toronto for dinner. 

As soon as I entered the place and started to greet the boys, the nicknames started flying. Once again I lost my name to the nickname I had been dubbed with some 45 years ago. 

No one else calls me by that name – only these guys.

It’s interesting that while we don’t pay much attention to the meanings behind our real names, nicknames are all about their meanings.

Some of the meanings are easy – they are a short forms of a name, or parts of a name. For instance, in college I got called “Sil” or “Silly”. 

Sports environments are the best for nicknames. Everyone has one. Sometimes you have to know the inside story to understand why a person is called a certain name. Other times it’s self-evident. 

There’s a kid on the OHL Kingston Frontenacs’ team whose last name is “Pringle”. It’s not hard to guess that his nickname on the team is “Chips”.

One of the boys from high school has the last name “Smallwood”. (He was the reason for us all getting together.) We often called him “little sticks” or “smalllumber”.  

The crazy thing is that, even after not hearing a nickname for years, there is no hesitation in responding to it. You instantly turn to see who’s talking to you, the same as if you’d been called by your first name. 

I heard my nickname a few times the other night, and I won’t hear it again until I see these guys in a year or two. It’s one of those names that requires the inside story to figure it out. 

I’m sure by now you’re a little interested to know what my nickname actually was. 

Well, it was “Woody” or sometimes just “Wood”. How I got it had to do with my hair. 

It was the early seventies back then and I had some pretty big hair. One of the guys thought that my hair resembled the crest of a certain cartoon bird.

… Somehow the name stuck. 

Here’s the thing: God knows you personally. You might think He sometimes overlooks you or is too busy to notice, but God knows you, your name, your nickname. You are not a number. He even knows the number of hairs on your head. A God who knows you personally like that, definitely wants you to know Him personally as well. Don’t neglect taking time each day to spend with Him. He probably has a nickname for you that comes with an inside story.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What nickname or names have you had in your life? Leave your comments below.