relationships

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Some People Don’t Age Well

You’ve heard the line, “You know you’re getting old when…” There are all kinds of ways to finish that sentence: You know you’re getting old when you and your teeth sleep separately; or, you know you’re getting old when you’re the first guy to the public urinals and the last one to leave.

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Well, there is another way to tell you’re getting old, and that is go to a concert of a band from your youth. This week a friend of mine called me up and said he had two tickets to see Randy Bachman.

Now if you don’t have a clue who I’m talking about, you were born before the 1930’s, or after the 70’s and you’re not Canadian. Randy Bachman was a founding member of The Guess Who, and then went on to form another band called Bachman Turner Overdrive (BTO).

This concert was a little different, as it was at the Grand Theatre in Kingston, and not at an arena. It was a little more intimate and wasn’t about the performer playing song after song. Bachman was there to tell stories of his life in the music industry and how the songs were written.

The stories and music were amazing. When the band would start to play an old classic, I found that I kept picturing myself back in my teens. But then I looked around and saw all these old people around me.

I couldn’t get over how many old people liked “BTO”. When I say old, I don’t just mean a little grey hair – we’re talking wrinkled skin, unruly eyebrows and white hair. These people were ancient!

I felt like a kid amongst them. I was trying to figure out how much older most of the crowd was than me, and they had to average about 10 years plus.

I knew going in that the crowd wasn’t going to be young. I’d been to a Rolling Stones concert when I was about 40 and everyone there was my age or older. But that was nothing compared to this group. I saw canes, and there was a line up for the men’s washroom … when does that ever happen?!

During the intermission, I found myself staring at people trying to figure out what they might have looked like when they were in their teens or early twenties. I would look at them and squint to see if I could picture them appearing wrinkle-free.

It was about then that I realized I had been remembering myself back when I was in my teens and, in reality, I kind of fit in with these old folks. Of course, I was on the much younger side of the crowd . . . but it probably wasn’t that obvious, except to me.

I thought to myself, “What happened to these people?” Then I thought, “What happened to me?!”

. . . We’re getting old, that’s what’s happening! It was all a little disconcerting.  But the music made me feel like I was 18 again. Thanks Randy . . .  both of you.

Here’s the thing: Even though we get older and mature physically and spiritually, God still sees us as His children. We need to remember we have that kind of relationship with Him when we are with Him in prayer. Enjoy!

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What experience of the past causes you to reminisce about how your life with Christ has changed?  Leave your comment below.

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Like a Square Peg in a Round Hole

Yesterday I helped a friend purchase an electronic tablet. I thought it would be straight forward, but part way through the process I realized I was going to be locked into the lengthy task of helping my friend learn how to use the device.

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If I helped someone in their twenties purchase a tablet, by the end of the transaction the need for my help would end. But my friend is not in his twenties and I can see that my services will be required for quite some time.

… And that gives me flashbacks to my dad with his computer! He would call me with a computer problem, hoping I would be able to solve it over the phone. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I was a pastor and not a computer geek, but I’m sure that wouldn’t have stopped him from seeking my help.

I would ask him to describe what he had on his computer screen so that I could replicate it on mine and then try to walk him through a solution. That might sound like a great plan, but most of the time, while he was supposedly following my steps, he would blurt out “It’s gone”. And then the following dialogue would ensue:

“What’s gone, Dad?”

“Oh, it’s back again!”

“What’s gone? What’s back? Dad, back away from the keyboard. Don’t touch anything!”

These calls were painful at times, trying to get a 73 year old to master new technology. It was like teaching a child which hole the round peg goes in and which hole the square one goes in. I remember how many times I had to show our kids, saying “No, see? The round one goes in here.”

They would still try to stick the square one in the round hole, but you had the hope that eventually, in time, they were going to figure it out. I remember I didn’t have that same hope with my dad.

One time when I was talking to my brother, I mentioned these computer help calls I’d been getting from Dad. As soon as I asked, “Has Dad ever called you about his computer?”, my brother’s eyes got all crazy-like and he just said, “Don’t get me started!”

It was then that I realized that my dad had a master plan for getting computer help. His plan was simple: phone one son until he was exasperated and then phone the other. My dad would go back and forth asking computer questions to whomever he thought had the most patience.

So yesterday in the store, I started to gear myself up for a barrage of calls and drop in appointments to my help desk. I guess my computer help desk is open for service again.

Here’s the thing: Sometimes we make the mistake of thinking that God is like us and gets tired of our repeated requests. But God isn’t like us at all. So don’t ever stop bringing your requests and confessions to Him. He is always eager to hear from you.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: Have you ever felt like you couldn’t bother God with something again?  Leave your comment below.

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I Got All Greased Up

Friday night after a very long day, my wife and I went out for dinner.  I’m not sure I consider getting fast food as going out for dinner, but, we didn’t eat at home. Normally, Friday nights is leftovers night, but this night I needed a treat.

We went to “Five Guys”, a restaurant that just opened in our neighbourhood. The burgers are good there and yes, I know it’s not healthy – you can tell by the grease soaking through the brown paper bag that the food comes in.

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I figure I can handle a little grease in my system every once in a while because I’m taking medication for that.

I don’t know the technical term for what it does, but in my understanding I picture the medication puts something like a teflon coating on your arteries so that all the crud, (triglycerides, cholesterol) or sludge, just keeps on sliding through.

That’s the way I picture it anyway … so that my conscience is clear. If you know something different, don’t tell me. I like the picture I have in my mind.

When we went into the restaurant I noticed a few things. First, there were a lot of employees. They were young; they all looked like teenagers, except for the big guy who I figured was the manager, or two of the five guys!

Second, though they call it fast food, it really wasn’t all that fast. McDonalds is fast. Wendy’s is pretty fast. But at Five Guys, they give you a number and say they will call you up when the food is ready.

With the shear volume of little people scurrying around in the kitchen, you’d think you would have your order by the time you paid for it.

Not so! We found a table and waited. I’ll admit though, the waiting was pretty enjoyable … they have free peanuts in the shell, which we availed ourselves of.

I noticed Lily was being uncharacteristically messy with the peanuts. I was putting the shells back in the tray with the unopened ones, just to keep the table neat. Lily was throwing them on the floor!

Once I figured out that everyone did that – there were peanut shells everywhere – I got right into it. By the time our food came, I think I had the most shells around my chair.

Along with the free peanuts to bide our time, were the signs all around the restaurant inviting you to read them. They were endorsements in big writing so they were easily read anywhere you sat.

They all had a similar theme. They told you how great Five Guys was. It wasn’t like they were tooting their own horn, but at the same time they were because they were using these accolades as decoration.

The only disconcerting thing about these ego-pumping posters was that most of the dates on them were from 5 or 6 years ago. As you read them, you just hoped the food wasn’t that old.

The food finally came, the burgers were delicious, and the fries were well worth the extra grease running through my veins.

Here’s the thing: We went to the restaurant for a burger and fries but we experienced a lot more. When you first come to Christ, it’s often because you have a particular need, desire, or concern. But what you find is your experience with Him is so much more.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: How has your experience with God expanded from what drew you to him in the first place?  Leave a comment below.

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Whatever You Do, Don’t Fix It!

It’s funny how you can enjoy something, but then want something else that will take away the very thing you enjoy. If I have you confused, that’s okay. I’m a little confused myself.

Let me try to explain. For the last 5 months I’ve been helping with the dishes after the evening meal. My wife, Lily does the washing and I do the drying. Lily has really enjoyed the time we have spent after dinner each night, talking while we do the dishes together.

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I’ve not alway done the dishes – maybe it’s because of the example I had from my father, or maybe it’s because I’m full after dinner and I really need to relax on the couch.

But mostly, I haven’t helped much with the dishes in the past because we have a dishwasher (I’m not referring to Lily here). When we moved into our house almost 17 years ago, there was a large hole under the kitchen counter top.

It looked so odd that we had to get a dishwasher just to fill the space. As I recall, Lily didn’t really want to get it because she was happy to hand wash the dishes if we could do them together. But I convinced her that the hole under the counter really detracted from the esthetics of the kitchen and we needed to install a dishwasher.

All her dreams of washing dishes together evaporated in thin air because I got pretty good at placing my plates, cutlery and cups into the trays, though sometimes I noticed Lily had to rearrange the items because I hadn’t put them in the best place.

That all changed five months ago when our dishwasher stopped working. I took a quick look at it and determined that we needed a new one. Lily looked at it and determined that I should fix it.

The good news, for Lily though, is that we’ve been washing dishes together.  We’ve enjoyed time together, working together and talking. She has loved it; it’s like the dream she had came back to be a reality.

That’s why I found it strange the other day when we were in a store and Lily blurted out, “You really need to fix that dishwasher.” I looked at her and wondered, “Does she really know what she is asking? Does she really want her dream to disappear again?”

Now the chances of me fixing the dishwasher are slim. My opinion is that a new dishwasher is the best fix I could do. You see, our dishwasher is 17 years old. In human years that’s not old at all, but in turtle years that’s getting up there, and in dog years that’s really old! . . .  the dishwasher is a goner.

It still has a purpose though. It fills the hole under the counter and it looks like it’s supposed to do something. You can’t do that with a dead animal. I’m beginning to wonder if she really does like doing the dishes together?

Here’s the thing: We need to be careful that the thing we want, whether it’s an object, a job, or a change of some kind doesn’t take away the time we spend with God. Sometimes what we want can take away from what we now enjoy.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What “wants” can crowd out your time spent with God?  Leave your comment below.

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Made It Through Valentine’s Day!

Special occasions should lift our spirits high with great anticipation. Instead, they often bury us under heaps of pressure. I think if you’re a guy, you can understand this feeling more than a woman can.

We recently got through Valentine’s Day (I’m speaking for all guys here). I’m not saying it was a hardship or unpleasant in any way. As a matter of fact, the day turned out pretty well. Lily and I had a nice meal out at a restaurant where many other couples were dressed in a variety of shades of red. I would have been decked out with them, but I couldn’t find my raspberry coloured beret.

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The “getting through” part is the pressure we find ourselves in trying to prepare for the wonderful event. My first tip was a closed door about two weeks before Valentine’s Day.

I was instructed not to come in. I couldn’t fathom why at the beginning of February my wife needed to hide something from me – my birthday is not until June! She said she was making a Valentine’s package to send our daughter, and immediately I felt my right eye twitch.

I quickly checked my calendar to make sure the day was free and that I didn’t have a meeting or something scheduled for that evening. Whew! I didn’t; I calmed down, my eye stopped twitching and I kind of forgot about Valentine’s Day for a couple of weeks.

It’s times like these that I wish I was more of a shopper. You see, if I was, I would have noticed the Valentine’s displays. I would have been reminded by the advertisements in the flyers. But sadly, we got down to a day before Valentine’s Day and I felt the pressure of the world on my shoulders.

I not only had to do something for my wife for Valentine’s, I had to compete against a woman who had been planning what she was doing for at least two weeks! She had a huge head start on me.

With my heart rate slightly elevated, and my palms just a little damp, I got to the store and started looking at the cards. With so many cards, you’d think it would have been easy to find the perfect one.

The cards I found seemed way too mushy or just stated the obvious (Happy Valentine’s Day). I was frustrated; there were some empty card slots and I just knew that one of those cards would probably have been perfect … why did I leave it until the day before?

I finally settled on a card … the chocolates would be easier. I just had to stay away from hazelnuts and I would be able to pick a winner. With my loot in hand, all I needed now was to write something warm and tender. But I don’t do warm and tender when my heart is racing and my hands are sweaty. I’d have to write it later.

I had booked the restaurant earlier in the day so I had a whole day to calm myself, dig out from the mounds of pressure and breath. Wow! We made it through another special occasion guys – way to go!

Here’s the thing: Each week, many of us are unprepared for a special occasion. We don’t think about church and meeting God until we get up in the morning and are in a hurry to get there. Take some pressure off by preparing your heart in advance to meet with God at church.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: How do you prepare for meeting God at church?  Leave your comment below.

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I Wish I hadn’t Called Him That Name

When it comes to naming things, some people have a gift and others don’t. I’ve met people who I’ve wanted to call by another name. I don’t know why, except they don’t look like, say, a “Ross” to me.

Some people get creative with names – and others wish they hadn’t – like Frank Zappa’s kid, “Moon Unit” or more recently, Beyonce’s child, “Blue Ivy”. You have to wonder what they were thinking or were on when they named their children!

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But it’s not just baby names. Some companies choose weird names for their products, like pretty much anything in an Ikea store. When I ordered a “Billy”, I didn’t know that was a book shelf. But since having “Billy” in my home for years now, we’ve had some good conversations.

New Zealand has a drink that is called “SARS”. I’m not sure I’d like to order one of them. But when the “SARS” virus was breaking out all over the world, sales of the drink went up. People thought it was a cure. After all, the can did say it had a flavour burst.

There are times, though, when there is something about a name that either fits the person or describes the item very well.

Our turtle is named Winston, and if you saw him you would think the name really suits him. It was my daughter who came up with that name and I think she showed lots of creativity. However, that wasn’t always the case with my kids and names.

Karlie had a stuffed animal that she called “Monkey”. Fortunately, it was a stuffed monkey and not a stuffed elephant or giraffe. Mike, well, he really got creative with two teddy bears that he had: one he called “little Ted” and the other one “big Teddy”. At least we never got their names mixed up; there was a noticeable size difference.

Speaking of getting mixed up, there was a time I played hockey with a guy who had two first names. I don’t mean his name was hyphenated, or he went by his middle name instead of his first; I mean his last name was a popular first name – Mike Dale.

I don’t think one can be held responsible for calling someone who has two first names by their last name. It’s easy to get confused. I had been calling for this guy to pass me the puck and was wondering why he wasn’t sliding it over.

Finally, he skated to me and said, “Hey! Stop calling me by my last name. How’d you like me to call you by your last name?” Actually, I didn’t care. The thing was, I thought I HAD been calling him by his first name … and I thought he kind of looked like a Dale instead of a Mike.

A good name helps us identify the person or helps us have a good idea of what the product is or does.

Here’s the thing: God has many names that describe characteristics about Him – Jehovah Rapha (the God who heals) or Jehovah Jireh (the Lord will provide) or Jehovah Shammah (the God who is There). If I keep in mind these descriptive names that identify a quality about Him, I will probably seek Him more quickly when I have a particular need.

That’s Life

Paul

Question: What names for God do you keep in your mind?  Leave your comment below.

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She Made Me Sick

It almost never happens. In fact, I can’t ever remember a time when it’s happened before. But it happened this weekend: my wife, Lily and I got sick at the same time. Usually, one of us is there for the other one. Well, maybe her more than me.

Normally if Lily is sick, I stay clear to protect myself; I don’t want to get too close.  And it works most of the time. Sometimes however, as she is getting better, that’s when I’ll come down with it.

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Saturday we were both in bed, pretty much all day. We had extra blankets and layers of clothing on. I’m not sure what to call our sickness. There was a time way back, when I would offer a name for it.  Back then, if you were achy, coughing, hot and cold at the same time, we called that a cold. If you felt like you were going to throw up, it was the flu.

Now, it seems we call everything the flu. That’s not very descriptive, if you ask me. I remember when, if someone told you they had the flu, you got a mental image of them with a bucket close by.

Now, however, we are just plain confused when someone says, “I had the flu.” You ask, “What kind of flu? – the kind that you feel like throwing up, or the blowing-your-noise-and-have-a-temperature kind?” Come on, just give them two different names; one’s the flu and the other is a cold. Lily and I had the cold variety, got the picture?

As the day progressed, I started thinking that our kids should be here to look after us.  After all, we certainly did that for them for many years. Sadly, Karlie lives two time zones away and Mike, well, he’d stayed over at a friend’s the night before.

We were sick and on our own. So Lily had to make lunch for us. Now, just so you don’t get the idea I did nothing all day, I made my own dinner. It was a frozen pizza, but I had to go downstairs twice, the second time for the instructions. That used way too much energy for me that day!

All day I couldn’t shake this thought that our kids should be here for us. Karlie even phoned us while she was out shopping, wanting advice on choosing a soup stock to buy. It was like she was taunting us with visions of chicken vegetable soup. But there was no way she could beam it over to us.

I looked outside and it was snowing. There was no way we could shovel the snow, but Mike could do it . . . if he was home!

At that point, we both felt kind of sad and lonely, Lily more that me, ‘cause I had hockey to watch all afternoon and evening. Where were those kids when you needed them?

Here’s the thing: Just like our kids were not close by when we were both sick, if we have allowed or caused some distance in our relationship with God to exist, we certainly won’t feel like He is close by when we need Him. I need to make sure I stay close to God when I’m doing well, so that when I’m not, I know He is there to help.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What kinds of things can cause distance in your relationship with God? Leave your comment below.

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Just The Way I Like It

I bought a new hockey stick the other day.  And I started to reflect on how important my stick is to me. I think everyone who has a hobby takes pride in the instruments or equipment they use to participate. I don’t know, but maybe some people will only buy a certain kind of knitting needle, or their automotive tools have to be a certain brand.

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We do that because, for some reason, when we wield our weapon it has to feel right in our hands. For me, the hockey stick starts with a curve … and it’s getting harder to find my curve pattern in stores.  They make a Hall curve, an Iginla curve, or a Crosby curve, but not a Silcock curve.

I don’t know why they change things. People get used to an article of clothing and for some reason they change it on you or stop making it for a newer, slightly different model. I’ve had to change my sticks over the years.

I moved from a wood stick to a carbon shaft with a wood blade, and for several years I just replaced the blade of the stick. But now my sticks are one piece all carbon, have a heal curve (Lidstrom pattern), and are ten times lighter than the old wood ones.

Once I buy a stick I still have to prep it. You know, break it in or customize it.  I cut off about eighteen inches and insert a wood handle that’s tapered to fit my hand better. My son says I should only pay half price since I only use half a stick.

For me, it’s not just a matter of going to the store and picking out a twig to use on ice. There’s a lot of thought and work that goes into getting it ready.  I take a rasp to the end of the stick to get the right shape for my hand.  And then there’s the tape job.

Taping my stick is not a quick process. The handle has to have the right size of nob on the end, and I tape the blade of my stick from toe to heal. I make sure there are no creases in the tape and that the overlap is consistent along the whole blade.

I finish it all off by coating the stick with ice wax. The wax seals the tape onto the stick and prevents moisture from getting in. Basically, it strengthens the tape on my stick and makes me feel that the puck will stick to my blade when I’m stick handling around other players.

That’s it, I’m done. Then I hold the stick in my hands and picture the goals I will score and the moves I’ll make with my new weapon of choice.

Here’s the things: If I will take that much time and care to make sure my hockey stick is just the way I like it, I need to put the same kind of thought into making my relationship with God just like I want it to be, and how He has designed it to be.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What do you put a lot of time and effort into so that it is just the way you want it? Leave a comment below.

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I Can’t Believe That Stressed Me Out

This week I graduated from the cardiac rehab clinic. Part of the requirements were to attend seminars designed to help me make positive changes to my life. The topics covered were fitness, stress, nutrition, the heart, and medication – eleven sessions in all. Each session was 1 1/2 – 1 3/4 hours long. I can only think of two words to describe these sessions: “brutally boring”.

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I have watched them on DVD; most people were held captive in the lecture hall for the whole time.  I don’t think I would have survived if I had to go to them. I’d probably have had another heart attack! It was bad enough having to watch the sessions at home, at my own pace.

One of the sessions – on stress – was three DVDs long. The problem with watching the DVDs was that they were creating more stress in my life. I felt my blood pressure rise slightly when the instructor began her talk by relating a story of her mother moving from Vancouver to Kingston, including what airline she was taking to get there.  Just start talking about stress!

She also stopped talking to welcome and assist everyone who came in late. It was nice that she made them feel comfortable, but they were late! Let them sneak in with their head down in embarrassment; they might show up on time for the next lecture.

The camera man must have been a 12 year old. He kept zooming the camera in and out with jerky motions, without care of what he was focussing on. Lighting for this big budget film was also pretty poor.  The instructor looked like she was wearing a turtleneck sweater, with shadows from her neck down.

I was just about ready to get hostile when my wife called me for dinner. That’s what probably saved my lap top from some damage. I closed it and went to the table. It was the break I needed.  I vented to Lily for a few minutes, and was able to bring my blood pressure down by filling my face with her chicken casserole.

It was only a short-lived reprieve, however. I had to finish the last half of the DVD after dinner. I think I dosed off a bit because the second half seemed to go a little faster. I came to while the instructor was demonstrating how to breath.

It was riveting. I mean, I have been breathing for well over 50 years now. Who’d have thought I’ve been doing it all wrong all this time? I’ve got it down now though, so I should be able to keep breathing for the rest of my life.

I have one more DVD on stress to go and, if I can survive it, I think my stress level will go down. Normally, when I watch a DVD, it’s to relax and chill out, to be entertained. These movies have tested my patience, and got me so riled up, I’ve started to yell at my computer screen.

I don’t think that’s healthy, especially for a guy who’s had a heart attack. They gave me medication to reduce my blood pressure and slow my heart rate, but then, I’ve allowed their DVDs to undo any good the medication was supposed to do.

Here’s the thing: I can do a lot of things right spiritually, like taking time to be with God, serving in the church, being in community with other believers. But, if I harbour sin in my life, it will negatively impact my spiritual vitality.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: Despite all the good in your life, what are some negative things that could undo you?

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If Only I Had Noticed

Some people are more observant than others, so it isn’t right that everyone should have to meet the same standards.  It’s fine for an observant person to notice that his wife had her hair cut, but there should be a grace period and hints given to the person who is not as observant.

I’m all for equality in certain circumstances.  We all should observe our surroundings and know where others are and what they’re doing, so we don’t bump into them.  But having to notice something without a comparison is completely unfair to an observant-impaired person.

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It’s like playing that concentration game where you pick up a card and then have to remember where the matching card is on the board.  An observant person wins at that game and we commend them.  We don’t get upset at the one who loses; we just feel sorry for the poor sap.

I had been away for a couple of days on a trip and when I got home, my wife Lily looked just as lovely as she did when I left.  It wasn’t until the next morning, after she had fixed her hair for the day, that she said to me, “You didn’t notice that I had my hair cut.”

In a split second, I recalled how bad a concentration player I was.  I had flashbacks of me turning up the wrong cards.  It’s not fair.  It wasn’t like Lily got a new hair style – it was the exact same hair style only a little shorter!

I told her that I thought her hair looked great, but it didn’t seem to make much difference because I hadn’t noticed on my own.  Maybe I need to get a deck of concentration cards and practice … or, maybe there’s an app for that.

When kids are little, we try to get them to distinguish between things that are different. On Sesame Street, kids learn “one of these things is not like the other…”  But in this case, Lily’s hair looked the same.

Now, Lily is a teacher at heart.  So I think she wanted to help me out, give me another try.  Well, at least I think that’s what she was trying to do when she said “come and look in the pantry and tell me if you notice anything different there.”

The problem was, she didn’t give me any more clues than that!  When I go to the pantry there are only two shelves I look at – they’re the ones that have the snack food on them that I would be interested in eating.

Suddenly, I was looking at items on shelves I didn’t know we had in the pantry!  “It could be anything”, I thought.  So I just said, “Wow!  This looks fantastic.  You’ve done a lovely job.”  Somehow she saw right through that, and gave me another failing grade.

I think non-observants should be marked on the curve.  We should be held to a lower standard.  But, in reality it’s not going to happen, so I just better try to be more observant.

Here’s the thing: I might not notice when God wants to show me something, and I could  use the excuse, “I’m not that observant.”  But, I’m the one who misses out.  What I need to do is pay more attention to God so I notice what He wants me to see.

That’s life!

Paul

Question: How do you keep yourself observant to what God wants to show you? Leave your comment below.