God

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My Complaint Was Unjustified

I was a little too hasty with my complaint.

Spring is here and I should be writing about mountain biking, hockey playoffs or maybe baseball. 

… Or how about those Raptors and Kawhi Leonard’s four bouncer, rim shot, buzzer beater to send Toronto to the NBA Eastern Conference Finals?

But I can’t write about those things. I’m still trying to get my head around my latest bill from Bell Canada.

At the beginning of April I got a shock when our TV/Internet bill increased by $79 from the previous month. (I wrote about it here.)

I got a double shocker this month when my latest bill appeared to be devoid of any adjustments.

After the big increase a month ago, I had called Bell and complained. … I’ll make this short by saying they gave me a $40 reduction on my bill plus faster internet service. To get that, I was on the phone for way longer than an hour with more than one customer service rep.

Within a day or two I noticed some results. They kept their promise of adding three free stations and removing one station, but the internet service didn’t seem any faster. 

Then this month’s bill showed the free stations, but no mention of the upgraded internet, and the same price for TV and Internet as the month before. 

Back to the phones I went! … If nothing else the phone company is ensuring we are still using their services because we have to call them all the time to complain! 

This time the conversation was more disturbing and discouraging than the previous month. 

I talked to two customer service reps who didn’t want to budge. They basically dismissed what I had been told a month earlier. They said that the notes for that complaint didn’t say anything about the credits and changes we had agreed upon. 

In the end, the rep said that she would have her manager call me.  

So I have to wait for the manager’s call … which also means there may be a follow up to this post some time in the future.

Then this morning, as I reviewed my bill again, I noticed something I had missed before. All the itemized charges are the same as the previous month, but there is an amount in an adjustments box with no explanation.

That adjustment is a credit. It only shows up on the remittance page, but it brings my bill to what was promised me the month before.

So I didn’t get faster internet and there doesn’t seem to be any record of or reason given for the credit, but I got one. 

The question I still have is, “Will this credit show up every month?” There is no record of what it is for, so it would be easy to just drop it.

As it stands now, when the manager calls, the only thing I can say to him is … in the words of Saturday Night Live’s Emily Litella, “Never Mind”.

Here’s the thing: I’m distrustful about what my tech company has given me. They might take it away as fast as I received it; it only shows up as a mystery item on my bill. How many times do we treat God that way when He gives us something? We treat Him as though He might take it away at any moment, or we are suspicious of whether it was God who gave it to us in the first place. You might not be able to trust your tech company, but you can trust God. Give Him the credit and praise He deserves.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What has God provided for you that you didn’t really thank Him for? Leave your comment below.

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Our Stuff Doesn’t Last As Long Anymore

Things don’t last as long as they once did. We also don’t try as hard to make them last.

This is particularly true with clothes … and many other things.

When I was a kid, I remember my mom would sew my ripped jeans at the knee. Sure, I had a stitch line that looked like a crease going across my knee, but I would get more time in those jeans.  

Mom also had some iron-on patches and sometimes, if the rip or the hole was too big to sew together, she would iron on a patch. 

The patch usually was a close, but not exact, match. It was really noticeable that I had a hole in those pants. But, hey, at least my skin wasn’t showing through. 

Nowadays we extend the life of jeans by just wearing the ripped skin-showing hole or holes in the knee. … Some pants already come that way. 

Years back there was a progression with pants. They would get sewn, then patched. When the patch started to lose its grip and begin to flap, Mom would cut those jeans off above the knee and you’d have a pair of shorts to wear. 

You really could get a lot of wear out of a pair of pants back then.  

Not so much now. 

My favourite jeans have a hole in them. I just noticed it. It’s going to get bigger too, so time is running out on these good ol’ pants of mine.

They seem to be coming to an end far too quickly, and the rip isn’t even in the knee. 

The hole in my pants is developing in my back pocket. It’s where I keep my wallet. 

It’s not that I carry huge amounts of cash in my wallet or that I have three inches of credit cards and identification back there either. It’s just that I have a hard case for my credit cards and a billfold with pointy edges. 

That combo creates extensive friction against my pants pocket and, though from the front the pants look fine, my right back pocket is starting to look like a real mess. 

It’s not fashionable yet, and I can’t cut them off at the pocket either. Sewing and patches? Well, I don’t think that style is ever coming back. It’s time to start looking for new jeans. 

I’m looking forward to the day when I won’t have to carry credit cards or cash with me. I do make many purchases electronically from my watch, but if we went cashless, if that became more fashionable, my pockets wouldn’t wear out and I could wear my favourite jeans for years. 

There is one thing that might save my jeans: it’s called darning. Some of you have never heard of the word … because nobody does it any more. 

When I was a kid, if you got a hole in your socks, your mom would say, “ah darn”, and then she would take needle and wool and close up the hole. 

My back pocket hole is darn-able; it’s not that big. I even said “darn” the first time I discovered it. Maybe I’ll bring back darning. 

… Not the word, just the fixing hole part. 

Here’s the thing: When it comes to relationships, we often don’t put effort into keeping relationships that are in need of repair. We just move on. Even with the Lord, we can be guilty of not trying hard to keep up our relationship. All relationships are worth it – especially your relationship with Christ. So do what you need to do to preserve, repair or fix your relationship with God.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What relationship needs repair in your life? Leave your comments below.

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People Are Too Delicate

I’m afraid that we, as humans, have become too delicate. We’re not tough enough; we’re soft.

We have great fears for our personal safety that motivate us to make laws and restrictions that prevent us from just enjoying life. 

When we are born we don’t come with warning tags tattooed to our bottoms that read, “Warning: this package is fragile”, but we kind of treat people like those tattoos exist. 

The other day I was in a hockey arena change room and, for some reason, began talking about some of the stunts I pulled as a youth pastor back in the 80’s and 90’s.  

They were fun stunts that had some risks attached to them … but no one ever got injured too badly.

Having said that, in every city we ever travelled to, someone from my youth group visited a hospital … and never to give them a tour of the place. It was always a concussion, broken collar bone, asthma, infection or stitches related necessity.

These former students are all fine now, in their forties and with families of their own.

One time I had some of my youth play a game of chubby bunnies. My intent, however, was to make it as gross as possible. 

At the time I couldn’t think of anything grosser than brussels sprouts so that’s what we used. 

You know how the game chubby bunnies goes – well, maybe you don’t because, according to one guy in the change room the other day, they have outlawed chubby bunnies!

I’m not sure how “they” would do that. I’m not sure the police would raid a youth group because of a rumour that a game of chubby bunnies was going down at Beulah Alliance Church. But maybe church boards and insurance companies would frown on the game.

The game is played with contestants who each put a marshmallow in their mouths and say the words “chubby bunny”. They continue to add one marshmallow at a time, saying “chubby bunny” until their mouths are packed so full of marshmallows that they cannot say the words “chubby bunny” anymore. 

It’s really funny to watch and hear them say “chubby bunny”. 

Using slightly warmed brussels sprouts gave the added effect of green slime oozing out their mouths and down their chins when they attempted to say “chubby bunny”.  

It was awesome and hard to look at all at the same time.

But I guess we couldn’t play that game now because someone once choked on the marshmallows and died. 

It’s incredibly sad that someone died, but it’s also hard to imagine just how many people played the game and lived to laugh and talk about it. 

Today we try hard to protect against fun that comes with risk. 

But life is not safe: You can get hit by a car, trip over the sidewalk and hit your head, or fall off your chair to devastating results. 

Thankfully, that’s not most of the time. We are not that fragile and we shouldn’t treat each other as if we are. 

We should enjoy life; live it to the full. 

Yes, there will be some risks involved; some hospital visits may follow. But keep in mind that with every injury, every trip to the hospital, there is a great story to tell. Let’s not deprive one another of those opportunities.

Here’s the thing: Living for Christ is not without risk. Don’t try to live as a Christian risk-free. If you do, you will miss out on much of what God has in store for you. Living life to the full will come with risks, but oh what powerful stories you will have if you risk for Christ.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: How have you been living life a little too safely? Leave your comments below.

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My Injuries Keep Coming

I’m finding it more difficult to diagnose minor injuries than I used to. 

Years ago, when I had an ache or a pain, I could pinpoint the precise cause or incident of my injury. Now, when I find myself with a bit of discomfort, I’m not necessarily sure what happened to bring it on.

This is all new for me. For my wife, Lily, on the other hand, this is a phenomenon that has plagued her most of her life!

Throughout our marriage when Lily would say, “I’m sore”, and I would ask her what happened or what she had done, she would always say, “I don’t know. I’m just sore.” If she got a bruise, about 90 percent of the time she didn’t know how she got it. 

I’m kind of catching up to her in this regard, because lately I’ve had some sore spots on my body that are a little mysterious.

I wrote about my sore elbow back in the fall (read about it here), and although it is now slowly getting better, it’s been six months of pain. … I still have to be careful to warm up before I start taking shots on a goalie. 

It turned out to be a ligament problem and I’m still not completely sure how I got it … although possibly it was from excessive wrist shots in hockey.

The latest thing that has been bugging me is a sore thumb around the joint on my left hand. It’s been sore for a few weeks now. 

And I don’t have a clue how it happened!  

I wondered if I was getting a touch of arthritis when the knuckle at the base of my index finger of my right hand got swollen and very painful.

I didn’t have any explanation for my knuckle either, and it has been swollen now for close to two weeks. … It doesn’t help that I sometimes move it the wrong way or that people shake my hand with a little pressure. 

One of the guys I play hockey with said it was gout, but that was because he had just finished experiencing some gout in his foot. I knew his diagnosis was only based on his experience and had nothing to do with really being able to identify my problem.

But yesterday at church, I may have figured something out. 

I asked my doctor if I possibly have a bit of arthritis, but when I described what I was experiencing, he didn’t agree. So I responded that maybe I did just injury it. He kind of nodded.

A few minutes later I was talking with a group of other people and the topic of injuries came up.  While I was relaying to them my conversation with my doctor an idea came to my mind. 

I had grabbed a puck out of the air with my hand a week or so ago. Maybe – just maybe – my sore knuckle was a result of catching that puck with my hand. 

My conclusion: injuries come more easily as we age, but also our memory is not as sharp in identifying incidents with injuries. 

Here’s the thing: The only way to prevent sin from going unnoticed in your life is to stay diligent in identifying and addressing it each time. When you let sin slide, your memory starts to fade, and you then don’t easily identify the ramifications to that sin. Stay on top of your sin by identifying it right away and dealing with it. It will lessen the chance of a lingering sore spot.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What mystery in your life do you need to identify? Leave your comments below

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The Case Of The Disappearing App

We all know what disappearing ink is like, but I have an app on my phone that sort of behaved the same way.

When I was a kid it was fun to try to make a secret message that no one could read, except the person you wanted to get the message because they had the formula to see what was written on the paper.  

Disappearing ink is made with lemon juice and to read it you need to get the paper close to a heat source. Then what was written in invisible ink can be seen.

There are also other ways to get ink to disappear. For instance, over time, in certain light ink starts to fade. 

On the wall of my office hangs my ordination certificate, signed by the six men who interviewed me and agreed that I should be ordained. That was almost thirty years ago and the signatures on that certificate are quite faded. In fact, they will likely disappear completely in the next few years. 

The proof that I’m a Reverend will be gone. I may have to retire. 

Ink doesn’t last forever. I shouldn’t expect more of it. 

But the other day, six pages of notes suddenly disappeared on me – notes that I’d made in writing my sermon. 

I probably have a peculiar way of studying, but I stand and make notes on a white board. When the white board is full, I use an app on my phone to scan the contents of the white board and turn them into a PDF. 

Then I erase  the whiteboard and start writing more notes. 

By the time I’ve finished making my notes, which I do over three days, they are all saved into my app as a PDF. I then refer to that PDF on my tablet as I write my sermon. 

Well, this week I opened the app to view my scanned notes, and the app opened as if it had never been used before. There was a splash screen and then some “let’s get started” slides. I thought that was strange, but I also figured that perhaps the app had updated during the night. 

But when I went to find my scanned whiteboard images, there was nothing. 

Nada. None. Nowhere to be found. They just all disappeared. … and I had no intention of making them secret notes! 

I searched the app for a way to get them back. Nothing. 

I started an online chat with a representative from the app, but couldn’t help but notice how much time was ticking by. 

I should have been well into writing my sermon, but I hadn’t started. Instead, I spent two hours trying to recover my disappearing scans. 

In the end, the person I was chatting with had to pass my problem off to more technical employees who would get back to me sometime after they investigated my problem.

I couldn’t wait for that to happen, so my notes were lost to me in writing my sermon. 

… I still haven’t heard back from the company. I’ve finished writing my sermon, so I don’t really need them, but there is still no sight of my disappearing notes!

Here’s the thing: Guilt can be disappearing on us. You might think that’s a good thing – it is and it isn’t. Guilt serves a purpose to draw us back to God in repentance – that’s good. But if we don’t act on that guilt, it begins to fade and will completely disappear, leaving us in our sin and drifting away from God – that’s not good. Don’t let guilt disappear. Act on it and draw close to God. 

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What have you let disappear that you want to get back? Leave your comments below.

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What To Do When Your Hotel Stay Is Lousy

From time to time I repost an article that I have published before. This post is from April 2014, enjoy.

This week I stayed in a hotel that was less than ideal.  I was in the Toronto area for meetings and, since the hotel I normally stay in was booked solid, I was registered in at a different hotel. 

I don’t need something too fancy, but when the first thing you do when you get in the room is check for bugs that tells you something! 

On my way to my room, I pushed the elevator button and waited what seemed to be about the time it would take an elevator to travel ten floors. The curious thing was this hotel only had three. So you have to ask yourself, “What was that elevator doing for all that time?”

When I got into the elevator it was empty, but there was a fresh aroma of B.O. in it, like that was the scent they were using to keep the cab fresh-smelling. 

I was only going to the second floor so I could have held my breath … except at this hotel a trip to the second floor was like riding a regular elevator to the 6th floor.  

I had to use a couple of breaths to make it.

There was a trail of dried mud chunks leading down the hall, stopping just a room before mine, so I could find my way easy enough. 

When I got inside the room, I saw it had everything I needed – a bed, a bathroom and a counter thing I could use as a desk. 

But the room was pretty stark. There wasn’t a picture in the place, and everything was bolted down. There was some laminate planking deal on the floor. 

I thought for a moment how easy it would be to clean this place. All you’d have to do is bring in a big ol’ hose, turn it on and then let it drip dry for the next guest. 

That night I had one of the worst sleeps on record. If I had been doing a sleep apnea test, I would be hooked up to one of those breathing machines by now for sure. I’ve slept on floors that were more comfortable! 

My pillows were just a little bigger than those squares you throw in the bean bag toss game. I found out in the morning, however, that the bed beside me had normal sized pillows. I must have been sleeping in Goldilocks’ bed all night, and let me tell you, it was not just right!

All night long there was this high-pitched, ear-piercing sound, something like the sound an old vacuum cleaner makes when the bag needs to be changed. 

Again, I found out in the morning that this sound was not from a neat freak staying in the room above me, but was coming from the motor of the mini fridge in my room. 

I could go on but I think that’s enough for you to take in for now. By the way, that was my first night there. I had one more night after that.

Here’s the thing: My hotel had essentially everything I needed to stay there. But the quality of my stay was the pits. You have everything you need to live in this world, but the quality of your stay will be determined by where you choose to live – with God or without Him.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What hotel horrors have you encountered? I’d love to hear from you; leave your comment below.

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My Easter Present

I got a present for Easter this year. It was sitting on our doorstep.

We don’t usually exchange gifts at Easter, though this year Lily’s birthday did fall on Easter weekend, so she got some cards and a few gifts.

Traditionally we used to give our kids some chocolate Easter eggs when they were young – we’d even send them on a hunt to find them.  

The present at the front door, however, was an actual present with a card. It was hanging on our doorknob. But when I took a closer look in the bag, I realized it wasn’t an Easter present for me after all.  

The present was a Hulk action figure … I’m confident I haven’t taken up playing with toy dolls. 

There was a card in an envelope that gave a little more insight into the mystery of the present at our door. There was a name on the envelope, but we didn’t recognize it. 

Somehow, whoever delivered the present thought someone else lived in our house, or they made a mistake on the house. 

Since we’re the original owners of our home and have lived here for the last 23 years, I don’t think they were mistaken on who lived in this house.  

Our guess was that the present was delivered to the wrong address. 

In the process, I wondered who gives presents at Easter … I don’t mean some form of chocolate; I mean a present like you would get on your birthday. 

Then Lily and I remembered how busy the roads were earlier that day. The malls were packed with shoppers. 

We learned later through a Facebook post that Easter shopping is incredibly busy, rivalling that of Christmas. 

I was feeling a little like Sherlock Holmes as I began using my keen detective senses to deduce who this present belonged to.

I opened up my computer and typed the family name in the search line. I was not sure if I had the spelling correct because there was an “o” that could have been an “a”. 

I knew at once I was on to something when several suspects popped up immediately online, all from far away places through. … I can see someone going to the wrong house in a city, but it’s hard to believe someone missing the house by a whole country. 

I narrowed my search to my city and bingo, there it was: the name and address of the people this present belonged to. I knew immediately this was them because their house was one street over from ours. 

I surmised how the mistake had been made. Our two streets are next to each other and are both cul-de-sacs that look similar. 

And when I went to take the present over to the rightful owner, their house was the third house in on the left, just like ours.

A great mystery had been solved … but no Easter present for me … or was there?

Here’s the thing: We like gifts and look for any excuse to get them, but we already have a great gift at Easter. You see, at Christmas God hands us a present all wrapped up – it’s beautiful, it’s hopeful, our eyes are attracted to it. At Easter we get to open up the present. Christ comes out of the wrapping, having died for our sins, and then come alive. He’s our present. Take Him by faith and He is yours, and you are His forever more. 

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What did you give or get this Easter? Leave your comments below. 

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Hockey Is Like A Drug To Me

The title of this post is not completely accurate – really it is the Toronto Maple Leafs that are like a drug to me … and not necessarily in a good way. 

To make this analogy work, hockey would be the needle and the Leafs would be the drug.

It seems like every year, come playoff time, I inject myself with this drug and I overdose. 

I’m not talking about watching too much of the Leafs, or watching too much hockey in general.  I’m talking about OD’ing with my emotions. 

You see, a drug is supposed to give you some euphoric feeling – like everything is groovy, everything feels more real, and you can be like superman. And I’m sure you’ve heard all the other descriptions of how some drugs manifest in an addict. 

I do call myself an addict here because I can’t seem to stop taking the drug. 

And like a true addict, I don’t admit that I have a problem at all, even when the symptoms are pointed out to me.

But the day of the game, I’m a little agitated. I can’t tell you why – maybe I got up on the wrong side of the bed; maybe I didn’t get enough sleep the night before.

Maybe it’s just that the Leafs are playing Boston tonight in game 4 of the playoffs … and the drug is flowing through my veins, rapidly making its way through my corpuscles to my heart. 

I know this because, by the time dinner rolls around, I’m not just a little hangry because I need food. There is way more going on than that.

I’m nervous like a junky who’s late for his fix. I can’t really sit still, so I pace between rooms, semi-listening to Lily tell me what has happened during her day, and trying to pick up on the predictions and analysis of the pregame show on TV.

I’m like a caged lion on the prowl … and it’s uncontrollable. 

When the game starts, I’m all tense. It’s like I have a rubber band around my arm and my veins are starting to pop for my injection.

And that is when I overdose. 

I never hit that high where everything is going to be all right. I never get that sense of sailing on silver clouds. … Maybe you get that reference, but it doesn’t matter. You know that this is a bad trip I’m on. 

And it lasts about two and a half hours. 

Well, that is not exactly true. If the Leafs lose, I go into a downer and then you might as well not talk to me, talk around me, or make comments, funny or otherwise. 

I’ve bottomed out.  

If the Leafs win, well it’s not like it was a great trip I was on. It’s just a relief that it’s over and I’m happy I’m still alive or that the Leafs are still alive in the playoffs. 

At any rate, I’m left feeling alone in my addiction. No one in my family really understands.

Here’s the thing: Two thousand years ago, Jesus was feeling much like I do. But His passion was for us – a love for everyone that He had in abundance – so much so that He endured all kinds of emotional and physical angst and pain. No one understood. He went through those agonizing hours to pay for the sins of the world – your sin, my sin – not just for a win, but for eternity. Christ died on the cross for you. Think on that this Easter.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What has you all tied up but you can’t give up? Leave your comments below.

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The Masters Left Me With a Different Feeling

Yesterday I had a different take on the Masters than most people did. 

I love to play golf and I’m also one of those people who likes watching it on TV.

For golfers, the Masters is a must watch event. It is one of the premier golfing events of the year.

But this year I had a different feeling than most people did watching the tourney.

Tiger Woods was making a charge; he was on a comeback. He hadn’t won the Masters since 2005 and he hadn’t won a major tournament in 11 years.

He’s had operations to fix chronic back problems, swing issues that has seen him completely change his swing, and emotional issues to overcome due to a marriage scandal which captivated public interest, coincidently 11 years ago.

Some thought that with all his issues, Tiger might not play golf again – at least at a level that would see him compete on the leader board.

Well, that is all in the past now. 

Tiger Woods played phenomenally this past weekend and his body, his swing, his mental toughness never looked better. 

Tiger is back.  

He certainly is one of the greatest – if not the greatest – golfer who has ever played the game. 

What I found disturbing yesterday, as I watched this amazing comeback and rise to the top for Tiger, was what seemed to be the worship of him. 

And it seemed consistent from the TV announcers to his fellow golfers to the crowds that paid homage with their cheers and praise. 

You can not take his golf ability away from Tiger. He truly is a marvellous golfer, but we shouldn’t be hailing him as the second coming of Christ! 

Ironically, Tiger’s win, and all the worship of him, came on Palm Sunday – the day Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, to the cheers and shouts of “hosanna” by the people who lined his path into the city.

Tiger made a triumphant walk from the green to the club house, his family in tow … well, at least for part of the walk. He left them all in the dust behind him as he gloried in his own greatness to the fans shouting his name and reaching out to touch a piece of him.

The announcers couldn’t say enough of his achievements and how truly miraculous this achievement was fighting back from adversity to reach this pinnacle. 

But I wondered how his ex-wife felt, not about how he played or that he won, but about how everyone worshipped this man.

As he stood on the green with his arms raised in victory to the thunderous applause, I wondered if Elin felt that all he had done to shame her and break up their family had been forgotten, been forgiven.

It was like that never happened. 

Like taking a brush to a chalkboard, this victory wiped out any memory people had of the life he has lived off the course. 

It is alright to celebrate a victory, but let’s keep in mind the character of a man who actually missed the cut.

Here’s the thing: Jesus rode into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday to the shouts and cheers of “hosanna in the highest” … but it didn’t go to his head. Instead he shook off the adoring fans and went to the cross to die for YOU. Now that’s character.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: Is your character something to be copied or something to be hidden? Leave your comments below.

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It’s Confirmed: I’m Old

It was confirmed: I am an old man.

In my last post, I wrote about a decision I made, against my better judgement, to play in a hockey tourney. (You can read about it here.)

For this tournament we were guaranteed three games and, to be honest, I thought that’s all we’d play. But that was not how it turned out. 

We won our first game quite handily and I felt pretty good. My knee felt good, I wasn’t tired, and I was ready for game two. … Maybe I am younger than what my birth certificate says.

In game two we really took it to the other team and scored a ton of goals. Our team was on a roll, and I was still surprised at how good I felt.

I needed to reassess my day. 

I had thought we would be playing only three games, but it was looking like we could possibly play four. Then, if we got to the finals of the tournament, we would play five. 

My initial predictions were proved completely wrong when we won our third game. And in those first three games, the other team barely got the puck in our end. 

Our goalie, who played well, had long periods where he didn’t see any action, which makes it tough to stay sharp and focussed.

With three wins, we were going to the semi-finals and then possibly on to the finals. 

For the first three games we had an hour to an hour and a half break between games. But for our fourth, semi-final game we only had a half hour break.

As we got ready, we heard that the team we were going to play was dirty and mouthy. … We heard right! 

Some of our young guys got hit with cheap shots that weren’t called by the ref. Our bench exploded in comments to the other team and the ref.

Then there were two guys on the other team who were masters at getting under our skin. They were non-stop with their chirps and it payed off for their team.

We took more and more penalties. We got more and more frustrated.

And then it was confirmed. One of their two mouth pieces turned to me and said, “You’re all washed up, old man.” 

I knew he meant to make me angry, to get me all upset, but I was actually feeling what he was saying. I didn’t have any zip left in me. I wasn’t dragging, but I didn’t have tons of energy either. 

Their other mega mouth started in on me too, saying, “Number 7, you are useless.” … I think he also added a few choice words that I don’t feel right repeating, but you get the idea.  

By game four, I was that 62 year old guy who is turning 63. I was the old man who was washed up.

It was an enlightening moment. 

But then I thought, “I’m still playing against a bunch of 20 and 30 year olds, and I can still skate with them.” … Not bad for an old washed up guy!

Here’s the thing: We get chirped all the time. Sometimes the things others say can be hurtful. Sometimes it’s our own rotten self-talk that hurts. It doesn’t even have to be true to impact us negatively. Capture every thought and word that you speak or is spoken to you, and take it to God. Let Him tell you what He thinks of you.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: Who or what words have you allowed to put you down? Leave your comments below.