relationships

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Like Lemmings Jumping Off a Cliff

We haven’t received all that much snow this winter, but whenever I have had to travel, the snow has come in piles!  Out of the last five trips I’ve made to either Toronto or Ottawa, I’ve traveled through a snow storm each time at least one way.

I know it’s Canada and winter, and snow is one of our best GNP’s (Gross National Product) but still, every time I travel?  Come on!  You can pretty well track our snow fall by my travel plans this year.  They’re lucky down in Florida that I don’t have a trip planned to the sunshine state.

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An hour before returning from my latest trip, the snow started falling.  It seemed pretty light so I wasn’t worried.  But when I finished my meeting and went out to my car, all the cars looked the same.  They were all white with about three inches of snow on them.

I picked my car out of the line up, opened the door and reached for the snow brush.  It was one of those snow days that when you finished brushing the snow off your car, the part you first brushed off needed another brushing.  You could just keep going around your car brushing off the snow.

Once I got going, I realized the roads were going to be slippery – and you know what that means:  Everyone who can’t drive is out on the roads trying to audition for that TV show, “Canada’s Worst Driver”!  I saw a few that I think would be good candidates.

The highway was packed, visibility was poor and then we got diverted off the highway.  I found out later there was a 60 – 80 car pile-up we had to detour around.  It was during that detour that I realized how conditioned we are to just follow.

It was one lane, stop and go, bumper to bumper.  Everyone just started following the car ahead.  We traveled for an hour like this.  Then I noticed a sign indicating a turn back to the main highway.

When I got to the corner, the cars ahead of me didn’t make the turn.  They kept on the single lane road like lemmings, just following the car ahead, without thinking about where they were going.

I looked in my rearview mirror as I drove the route back to the highway.  No one followed me.  I was the only one who made the turn; everyone just kept going straight.  When I got to the highway, there were no other cars on it.  I had three lanes to myself for about twenty minutes.

It was like the other cars were looking for some official to direct them back to the major route.  I kind of chuckled to myself as I sped down the highway, thinking that there were people still traveling bumper to bumper when they could be back on the highway traveling 80 -100 kph faster.  I made it home much sooner than I’d originally thought.

Here’s the thing: It can seem like the right thing to follow what everyone else is doing.  We blend in and it’s comfortable.  But often following the majority keeps us from the better plan God has for us.  We need to keep checking the signs God gives us in His Word to get back on His path and not stay stuck on a detour.

That’s life!

Paul

Question: What do you do to keep from following everyone else?  Leave your comment below.

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Housekeeping is Not that Hard

I’m starting to become a pretty good housekeeper, if I do say so myself.  And by the way, that is saying something!  I’ve never been known for my generous and extensive work around the house.

Becoming a proficient home engineer has kind of snuck up on me.  You see, we’ve had company at our home rather frequently of late, and most of that company has had to do with me.  As a result, my wife Lily has put a little pressure on me to be a nearly equal participant in getting ready to host our guests.

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I’ve been in charge of the downstairs (I’m not sure if she doesn’t trust me to clean the upstairs yet, but that’s just fine with me!).  There is no shame in being a downstairs cleaning aficionado, as I like to call myself. Well, it’s actually the first time I’ve called myself that.

Tidying up the downstairs has its benefits.  It’s where the TV is, so as I clean, I can watch the game on the tube (I mean, flat screen).  You really don’t have to miss anything.  The vacuum cleaner is a little loud, but that’s what we have the volume control on the remote for.

And when you vacuum frequently, it doesn’t take long to know the high traffic areas you have to focus on and those areas you don’t really have to go over (because no one is going to notice that it didn’t get a fresh zoom over from our 15 year old Kenmore canister model).

Speaking of vacuums, I’ve been telling Lily that we needed a Dyson vacuum cleaner since they first came out (that Dyson guy really seems to know what he’s talking about). I had no real reason for wanting one, because I never used the machine.  But now that I’m in charge of the downstairs environmental aesthetics (at least when company’s coming), it’s time I put a little more pressure on.

The other night we had company, and as usual, I was at my station ready to do my part.  Actually, I was watching TV on the couch, and thinking about the exercising I should be doing.  The instructions were sent to me over the loud speaker from upstairs (that’d be Lily speaking loudly to me).

She wanted me to clean first and exercise later.  She has this thing about be prepared in advance for company and not just putting the vacuum away when the door bell rings. I obliged and got my duties done and then hopped on the treadmill to begin my aerobics.

Funny thing, while I was on the treadmill, I’m sure I saw Lily look in the bathroom, and around the basement.  There’s no way she was checking to see if I had done my cleaning to some standard or something.  Then I saw her with a damp cloth rubbing it over surfaces and objects in the room.  I’m not sure what that’s for, but I’m glad its not part of being a downstairs cleaning machine.

Here’s the thing:  There’s more to a role than just a title.  If we say we belong to Christ, the proof is in what we do.  If I have trusted my life to God then my actions will be the evidence that I am following Him.  It’s a good reminder for me to keep checking my actions and not rest on my titles.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question:  How are your actions measuring up to your title?  You can leave a comment below.

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Beware of Dangerous Fruit

You’ll notice the name and header of my blog have changed. When I created the blog ten months ago, I really had no idea what to call it so I just went with the church name.  I made this name change because it better reflects the content of my blog. Let me know what you think of it. (I also simplified the website address to psthatslife.com)

One night this week, I came home from work, and instead of smelling that sweet aroma of food being prepared, my wife Lily was engrossed in research.

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Now when I get home from work, I make a beeline for the pantry.  Nothing gets in my way of that. If Lily is in the path, I greet her with a kiss and a hug, but not a long hug because, she is in the path to the pantry.

You see, I get hypoglycemic which means I have to eat something right away.  It could be anything, but a kiss will not cut it and a hug will only keep me from falling down, and even then, I could take her down with me.  I need food when I get home and I need it fast!

So, as I was filling my face with chips (oh, did I write that?) Lily was calling me to come see what she had found on the internet.  After scarfing two more handfuls of chips, I made my way to her office where she told me about some research on grapefruit.

Apparently, grapefruit reacts to some medications, creating an overdose effect, a massive overdose in some cases.  (When she mentioned grapefruit, I immediately thought that would be a good chaser to the chips I had just eaten.)

But she was suggesting I shouldn’t eat grapefruit anymore. The whole reason I take “Crestor” instead of “Lipitor” is because I like a little grapefruit for breakfast. Now she was telling me studies show that another pill I take (Plavix) reacts to grapefruit.

I kind of laughed at that point because I have been eating grapefruit everyday for the ten months I have been on this pill. Then I checked and said, “Yup, my heart’s still beating. Hey, I’m alive.”  Lily just rolled her eyes and told me to watch the news report on the internet.

The video was from ABC news. They had their medical expert speaking as if it was a life or death matter. At the close of the interview he said, “Whatever you do, call your doctor and stop taking those drugs.”

I laughed, then asked Lily to play it back. I was right! The expert doctor said “stop taking the drug”. My doctor told me to never to miss taking “Plavix”; it’s keeping my stent open.  But this guy said stop the drug, but keep on eating grapefruit!

So the next morning, I had grapefruit for breakfast.  Later I viewed the video again and they had corrected it. Lil was still worried so she called the pharmacist and he suggest that I stop eating grapefruit.

They’re ganging up on me!

Here’s the thing: Even though it was a possible danger for me to keep eating grapefruit, I ate it the next day anyway.  When confronted by our sin, our natural tendency is to keep on sinning. The key isn’t to dismiss the danger just because nothing bad has happened yet. Rather, dwell deeply on the harm sin in your life can bring and make the change.

That’s Life,

Paul

Question: How do you react to sin in your life? Leave your comment below.

 

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I’ve Found the Secret

Sometimes it’s the little things that make a big difference. The other day, my son and I went to our local golf store to try out his new golf clubs. Mike got new irons for Christmas, but we needed to make sure they had the right shafts for his swing.

The store we went to has a golf simulator that analyses your swing as you hit balls into a screen. As Mike started to warm up and hit some balls, I noticed that he wasn’t getting the distance I would get with the same club.

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The store employee mentioned that he was leaving all his weight on his right leg and what he needed to do was transfer his weight over to his left leg when he swung. I thought that was pretty common knowledge, but for Mike it was a revelation.

He started making that little change and his distance improved by about 25-30 yards, just like that. He was pretty psyched about the increased distance. I figured I would take a few shots to see if the new clubs would make any difference to my game. Sadly, they didn’t – even worse, Mike’s shots were now going a good 20 yards farther than mine!

Something as small as a shift in your weight can make so much difference to the distance you hit the ball and how you feel about your game. For a young guy, it’s all about the distance: the farther you hit, the better you feel about yourself.

Mike came home from the store and showed a friend his new clubs, he was so proud of them. He can’t wait until the spring to get a chance to use them. I think deep down he believes he will be able to beat me now. But I’m not that worried; he still can’t putt.

It’s really remarkable how little things, like shifting your weight, can make you feel good.  We often view the big things as mood changers. Things like winning a lottery, getting a big promotion, or making a significant move are what bring us big smiles.

But life is made up of little moments and not big events. Life is all about the little things, like savouring that steak that has been cooked to perfection, seeing the joy on your son’s face after he hits a golf ball, or anticipating the start of hockey on Saturday nights (finally).

We don’t live life from big event to big event. We live most of our life in the little moments that happen each day. It’s those little moments that make the real difference. It’s the little moments that sustain us every day until a big event comes along.

The last few weeks, I’ve been kind of frustrated. I think I’ve been trying to live from big event to big event and have gone through some deep valleys along the way. But if I would feed on those little moments I have each day, I would sail through even the longest gaps between big events.

Here’s the thing: The same is true with God. If we are waiting for God to do something big in our lives, we may get discouraged and frustrated in the mean time. Instead, if we are having little moments with God each day, they will take us through any valley we find ourselves in.

Until Next Time!

Pastor Paul

Question: What are the little moments in your life (day) that can bring a smile to your face? Leave a comment below.

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Another Eight Long Months!

A week ago, I drove up to Ottawa with my wife, Lily and daughter, Karlie. We were taking Karlie to the airport to catch her flight back to Calgary. She had been visiting us over Christmas.

We made several trips this last month. There were three trips to Ottawa and a trip to Toronto, all to visit family. Each trip had one leg that was difficult because of the road conditions. The hardest trip, though, was this last one, knowing we were saying good-bye to Karlie for another six to eight months.

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It’s not like we are new to this. Karlie has been in Calgary and other places out west for over 5 years now. It’s just that it doesn’t seem to get any easier to see her go.

There is a special element she brings to our home and family when she’s back – something that’s hard to explain.

It’s the looks we share when I tease her mom and we both anticipate the reaction that will be forthcoming. Some of those times are so predicable, but maybe that’s what makes them so funny.  Like when Lily says to me, “You’re looking a little pale. Are you feeling all right?”, my usual response is to sigh, drop my shoulders, and answer her in a weakened voice. Karlie can tell it’s an act, and we share that look. Lily, well, her reaction of concern moves into high gear! We smile every time.

There are the things Karlie does for me too, like the Christmas cookies she bakes. There was one batch she made just for me. They were my mom’s recipe, and she made them as good as Mom ever did. She also watched a few chic flicks with her mom, and even though that wasn’t directly for me, believe me, it was for my benefit!

We shared our father daughter breakfast (our tradition) and even though our restaurant was closed, we were able to find a new breakfast spot that served the same kind of unhealthy food with comparable quality.

There is a comfort to having her at home, like everything is back to normal, but with a twist. The kids, well, they’re adults now.  It used to be like the Flintstones in our house: lots of humour but half of it over the kids’ heads. Now they are right in on it all.

We’re able to relate on a different level now, like having adult conversations about plans and dreams and next steps. I found myself sharing plans with Karlie, too. She even hung out with her parents on New Year’s Eve, in downtown Kingston! I can’t remember a more exciting New Year’s Eve … well, maybe a couple or twenty, but Karlie made it a little more fun.

It’s not that our home doesn’t function when she’s not there.  It’s just that Karlie adds something special to our family, the little things that make everything so much better.  … On a good note, when Karlie came she brought a truck load of snow, and since she’s left, it’s melting rapidly.

Here’s the thing: Just like my daughter brings a special element to our home when she is present, we all bring something to our church community when we show up. What we bring will be missed if we’re not involved. No matter who we are, or what gifts we think we have or don’t have, God has placed us in our community to add to the flavour for everyone.

Until Next Time!

Pastor Paul

Question: What do you bring to your community? Leave your comment below.

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Tattoos and Hand Grenades

Last night we had company for dinner.  My job was to get the house ready, which consisted of a little vacuuming and bathroom inspection.  I wish it had been just bathroom inspection, but I had to do some cleaning as well.

While I was doing the vacuuming, I noticed some marks on the kitchen floor.  I thought they were crumbs but the vacuum cleaner wouldn’t suck them up.  When I looked at them a little closer, I figured out what those marks were.

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It all goes back to Christmas morning . . . Each Christmas, Lily asks me to find something to go in the kids’ stockings (she doesn’t have the gift of buying creative stocking stuffers).  I don’t really look for items that are perfect for each individual; I generally look for items that will get a reaction of some kind.

This year, I found two items that I thought would spark some excitement and create a buzz around the tree Christmas morning.  The first item was tattoos.  Now these aren’t the kind of tattoos you lick and press on to you skin – these were way bigger!  They were sleeves of tattoos and I gave everyone a pack.

I liked them so much I wore mine all day long.  I was going to wear it to bed that night, but I thought that might be too much.  It was something like a skin coloured stocking material that had tattoo designs all over it.  It was awesome!  I looked like I played in the NBA or belonged in “the hood”.  Believe me, I looked real cool!

The other item raised some eyebrows and relates back to the marks on the kitchen floor.  What I put in everyone’s stockings this year were hand grenades.  You heard me right, and I got them from the dollar store, no less!  Next time you are thinking of firearms, head right to Dollarama – they have a good supply.

I didn’t really read the package, though.  I knew they exploded somehow and that was good enough for me.  We all needed to be armed Christmas morning.  When everyone opened their stockings, they got a chuckle.  Mike was the first to decide to try them out.  He opened his pack, squeezed a grenade a few times, and threw it towards his mother.

Within seconds, it exploded.  There were shrieks, not so much from the noise (though it had a good explosion sound to it) but from the shrapnel that was left on the floor (liquid and white marks) that got the reaction.  We were suddenly scrambling out to get towels to save the living room rug and hardwood floor.

Who would have known that the hand grenade was loaded with vinegar and baking soda?  Well, maybe someone who read the package, but I certainly hadn’t so it was a surprise to me.  We decided that the living room should be off limits to grenades, so a couple more got tossed in the kitchen … hence the shrapnel marks that didn’t seem to come off the kitchen floor … or the walls.

Apparently, Lily cleaned the floor several times and still there is shrapnel from the war on Christmas morning littering the countryside (I mean, the kitchen).  It was like the Middle East – bombs going off right there in front of the manger scene!  I hope she forgets this one by next Christmas.

Here’s the thing: Reading what’s on a package can really help you make good decisions.  It can also keep you from making poor decisions.  We have God’s Word that can do the same for real life.  Let me suggest that this year we all set a goal to read through the Bible, or at least to regularly read passages of it.

Until Next Time!

Pastor Paul

Question: How do you keep from making poor decisions? Leave your comment below.

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Let’s Just Forget That Sunday!

A few Sundays ago, I was glad when church was over – it was not a good morning. I had so much going through my mind, I wasn’t able to worship. For some people that might be normal, but it’s not good when you’re the pastor!

It was a typical Sunday morning when I first got up, but somehow Lil and I got behind in getting ready and we were a little late getting to church. It’s not that people were waiting for me, but I like to get there at about 7:30 am and that morning we were pushing 8:00 am. We just must have been moving in slow motion.

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At that point I wasn’t concerned, and I sure didn’t think the word “late” would be the theme of the morning. By the end of the service, however, I could have dismissed everyone by saying, “Today, our service has been brought to you by the letter ‘L’”, in true Sesame Street fashion.

This late theme wasn’t just with me. Everyone seemed to be running a good half hour or more behind. Our worship team was late in arriving, which, although it allowed me the time I needed to go over my sermon in the sanctuary, also created a little anxiety.

Our sound technician wasn’t there to set up for the worship team and I kind of got a little nervous about who might be able to fill in if necessary. Our media operator didn’t arrive to make sure all the songs were loaded into the computer to show on the screen during the service.

As the clock kept ticking, I darted back and forth from my office to the sanctuary, to answer questions and give assistance. I felt my adrenaline kick in, as my mind was buzzing like a bee going from flower to flower collecting pollen. I normally like to take some time in my office to sit, be still and pray. It wasn’t happening that morning; I had way too much to be concerned about.

Being late had a domino effect on everything. We were late setting up, finishing worship practice, getting to my office for pre-service prayer, and even late starting the service! And, as I made my way to the sanctuary, I was delayed another minute with a problem that sent me back to my office.

By then the worship team was on the platform. As I cruised through the foyer on my way to the sanctuary I noticed the lower foyer filled with people arriving … ANOTHER group of late people!

When I found my seat in the sanctuary, I was not thinking about worship. I was still thinking about how late we all were. Oh, and my sermon, I had to look at my notes to remind me of what I was even preaching about!

Here’s the thing: I was frazzled by the time the service began. I was more focused and worried about the externals than what God really cares about. When I talked to people after the service they had no idea anything had gone wrong. I should have focused on my spirit. Bill Hybels wrote a book titled, “Too Busy Not To Pray” – that was me that Sunday. I felt too rushed, too distracted, but I should’ve prepared with some quiet time and prayer. Next week will be different.

Until Next Time!

Pastor Paul

Question: How do you stay focused when you get rushed and distracted? Leave your comment below.

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Missed Opportunities

I don’t get too excited about puzzle building. I’m just not very good at it. That’s why on Christmas morning, when an anonymous gift of a puzzle showed up under the tree, addressed to our family, I was not all that excited.

My wife, Lily, on the other hand, loves to build puzzles. She’s an expert puzzle builder. Naturally, I suspected her to be behind this family present.

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The puzzle was the 4D kind. (Before you screw up your face and think I got my numbers wrong, the 4th dimension in this puzzle is time.) We didn’t have to put on crazy glasses while fitting the pieces together … although, that may have made it more fun.

This present was my wife’s scheming attempt to get the whole family to do something together, rather than have some of us glued to the TV, watching sports over the holidays.

I’m sure she thought, “I know Paul will like this because it’s a puzzle of the city of Toronto where he grew up.” And she worked that angle for a while by handing me pieces with street names on them and saying “I don’t know where this street is. Maybe you can find where it goes, Paul”.

She knew Karlie would be up for doing something together as a family – after all, she came all the way from Calgary to be with us for Christmas. But Mike, our son, was the wild card.

I can’t figure out how she thought building a puzzle would be something he would want to do. Maybe she thought three out of four wasn’t bad, and we might be able to cajole him into participating.

It reminded me of when we would make gingerbread houses at Christmas. Each of us would make his own house and then we’d arrange them in a village setting. Mike never wanted to do it, but we pressured him into it each year. He would try to build a monstrosity of a mansion, only to get discourage because he didn’t understand the concept of having supports to handle the span of the roof. He was always the first to give up.

It was no surprise that as soon as he saw the puzzle he said, “No, I’m not building it.” I had similar sentiments but I didn’t want to burst Lil’s bubble so soon after opening the present.

I helped at first, but quickly faded … maybe it was the turkey dinner, or maybe I just needed a nap after all the sitting I had done in the past few days. When I woke from my slumber, Karlie and Lil had quite a bit accomplished.

A few days later, when it was suggested by you-know-who that we finish building the puzzle, Karlie was quick to take up the challenge. Mike was nowhere to be found, and I, well, I had something else I needed to do … I think … in another room.

The next morning, I came downstairs to find the completed puzzle. It looked just like a real view of the city. It was then that it dawned on me how I missed out on building it with my family. It could have been a time of talking and laughing, sharing time together.

Here is the thing: Even though I don’t like building puzzles, I should have sucked it up and participated, not to miss the opportunity. This year there will be many opportunities at work, in relationships, with God. I don’t want to miss those opportunities this year.

Until Next Time!

Pastor Paul

Question: How do you plan to make the most of opportunities this year?

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The New Christmas Reality

I wrote this Christmas morning when I got up and read it to my family before we started opening stockings and gifts.  Hope you all had a Merry Christmas!

There is a new reality in our house on Christmas Day.  The “no one was stirring, not even a mouse” has stretched from night time to well into the morning at our place.  The only problem with that is my internal clock is set for the same time 365 days of the year and I can’t just turn it off.

I get up each day at 6 am to spend some time with God.  On Christmas morning, because I’d been up so late the night before, I did sleep in a little.  I got up at 7:30, and let me tell you, only the turtle was stirring!  He actually seemed excited about Christmas … or maybe he was just hungry.  Anyway, it’s a far cry from years ago when the house was buzzing before 6 am.

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I remember those days: the calls from another room, “Can we open our stockings now?”; those extra bodies crawling into our bed, trying to get some leverage to push me out; or the lifting of my eyelids and asking, “Are you awake, Daddy?”

There is one good thing about the new reality.  Santa doesn’t have to get to our place in the middle of the night.  He can show up in the morning and get all the stockings squared away, guaranteed not to wake anyone up!

And forget the milk and cookies.  He has a full breakfast and makes it himself!  Not even the noise of the pots and pans shook the Christmas slumber from the children all snuggled in their beds.

The stillness is nice; it’s calming and thought-provoking … Speaking of thoughts, it’s too bad the World Junior Hockey tourney didn’t start this morning – that might have gotten some action in our house, at least from the other male in our residence.

On Christmas Eve, I vaguely heard some negotiations about when things would start Christmas morning.  I heard the time “11 am”, but I think there was some push back on that proposal, so I didn’t know when our house would come alive with the sound of stockings being emptied and wrapping paper being ripped.

We rip wrapping paper now.  Back when I was a kid, apparently there was a shortage of paper because my mom made us take the paper off presents carefully so we could save it for another year.  I’m sure glad we discovered all those trees in Northern Ontario so we can just rip the paper off and throw it right into the garbage (I mean the recycling bin … can you recycle wrapping paper?)

This new reality is sure different than in the past.  I’m not sure I like it.  I’m not sure it’s all that productive.  There are some good portions of the day we’re missing out on!  Then again, getting an early start was more important in the days we had toys to deal with.  I needed time to test some of them out to see if they worked properly.

Here’s the thing: As we get older we lose some of the excitement we once had for Christmas.  It doesn’t have the same magical charm it once had.  Rather than starting out with a great flourish of activity, now it starts more like every other day of the week. There is nothing wrong with that but, if that same attitude affects our excitement and wonder of Christ’s birth we nullify the purpose of the day.  To keep the excitement, the wonder in Christmas, insert your favourite Bible translation of Luke 2:1-20 here.

Until Next Year!

Pastor Paul

Question: How do you keep the wonder and awe of Christ’s birth in Christmas Day?

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The Longest Night Ever

Note: There will be no blog on Tuesday I’m going to take a break for Christmas.  So, today I want to share with you one of my favourite Christmas memories growing up.  I want to wish you all a very Merry Christmas and may God bless you in 2013.

Like most kids growing up, Christmas was a pretty exciting time for my brother and I.  John is just two years younger than me and we would fuel each other’s excitement.

We were notorious for getting up very early Christmas morning. We would often sneak out of our room, only to hear a voice from another bedroom boom, “GET BACK TO BED!”  That would send us backtracking really fast.

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One year, neither of us could sleep all night. It was literally agony lying in bed, thinking about the presents that might be under the tree, and not being able to open them. John and I shared a bedroom, which only made it harder to sleep as we kept talking about what we might be getting that year.

To make matters worse, we didn’t have a clock in our room. After a while, we couldn’t handle the waiting, so we decided to go on recognizance missions to find out what time it was. That meant we had to sneak through the hall undetected, creep through the living room with the Christmas tree glistening in the moonlight, past the stockings on the couch, through to the dining room, to the clock on the wall.

I went first, and to my great disappointment, I discovered it was only 1:30 am – oh, it was going to be a long night! On my way back, I couldn’t help but notice the stockings full to the brim, with a three-pack of underwear sticking out the top (Santa always brought underwear). Accidentally brushing the underwear with my hand, I notice something else sticking out the top of our handmade, wouldn’t fit anyone sized, Christmas stockings.

I snuck back to our room, hardly able to contain myself with excitement, and whispered at barely lower than an yell, “WE GOT ARMY MEN!”  (Hey, that’s a big deal when you’re 5 and 7.)

It took a while for us to recover from that mission behind enemy lines, but after what seemed like an eternity, it was John’s turn to check the time. He did a masterful job of getting out of our room undetected. When he got back, he shared some more news of what was in our stockings and told me the time was 10 after 4. We were closing in on 7 am when our parents said we could get up.

After another long time, it was my turn to go back. I used all my sleuthing skills to be quiet and went straight for the clock. I was shocked; I had to look at it a second time. It was only 3 am!  I turned and headed back to our room.

John had a problem with hands on the clock and he had mixed them up when checking the time. Instead of being 10 after 4, it was really 20 after 2 when he had gone. I had no option … he needed a beating for that mistake.

We had trundle beds in our room, which meant John’s bed slid under my bed in the day, and at night pulled out beside mine. This was to my advantage. Not only was I two years older and maybe an inch taller, but my bed being above his, gave me an extra foot of leverage. I took my pillow and beat him silly with it. He looked like a drunken sailor wobbling back and forth, until he collapsed on his bed in a heap.

At that point, I thought that night would never end. I thought we would never get to opening up our presents. But we did … and my brother John is still alive.

Here’s the thing: I wonder what kind of night it was in heaven as all the angels waited, anticipating the birth of Christ. We know they couldn’t contain themselves when the baby was born. They joined the angel who announced the birth to the shepherds and sang, “Glory to God in the highest heaven and on earth, peace to those on whom his favour rests.”  We should be that excited about Christ our Saviour!

Merry Christmas,

Pastor Paul

Question: What excites you most about Christmas?  Leave your comment below.