seniors

by

Up Early Christmas Morning … Again!

Well, this year I’ve come full circle. I thought it would take longer for it to happen, like maybe not until I was 80 or 85.

ThinkstockPhotos-sb10067750y-001-690x519

But no, it’s happened already.

In life we start out needing help for pretty much everything and, at the end, we also need more and more help.

They say seniors and teens have lots in common. They both can’t hear – one group because of head phones, the other because, well … they just can’t hear.

They both have no filters on what they say; they say exactly what they’re thinking.

You don’t like their music and they sure won’t tolerate yours.

Each thinks the other doesn’t know anything.They both don’t remember what you said to them five minutes ago.

And they’re both really dangerous behind the wheel of a car!

I’m not saying these things are observable right now in my life, but there is one thing.

When I was a kid I used to get up real early on Christmas morning. It was understandable; I was excited about the presents and all.

Then I went through the stage where I slept in on Christmas morning because I was tired and not that excited about what was under the tree.

But this year, in this way, I’ve reverted back to my childhood. I was up at the crack of dawn Christmas morning.

That’s right, 5:55 in the morning and I was climbing out of bed!

The difference this year was I passed by the treasures in the living room and headed straight downstairs.

I spent time alone doing my devotions and then I worked on my sermon.

We had determined the night before that we would get things rolling at our house at about 10 am so I figured I would have a few hours of productivity first.

By the time people were stirring and visions of sugar plums were starting to fade, I had a couple of hours of work completed on my sermon.

I had tried to work ahead, but I just hadn’t been able to finish my sermon before Christmas Eve for the Sunday after Christmas.

With only a couple of days in between, it meant writing on Christmas Day or Boxing Day. I didn’t want to miss out on time with my family so I thought, “I have an opportunity here to use unused, discarded time to get things done.”

I had just put the final strokes on my message when I heard some footsteps from above. For a second I thought it  was old Saint Nick making his yearly visit but then I realized it was only my wife heading into the kitchen.

As the house came alive and everyone gathered for some breakfast, I emerged from the basement, sermon complete, ready to enjoy Christmas morning with my family with no pressure hanging over my head.

But just like the young, about mid afternoon I was ready for a nap.

Here’s the thing: Often we think those early hours are time to sleep, and not good for anything. But those early quiet hours can be the most special time we can have with God.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Paul

Question: What have you seen come full circle in your life? Leave your comment below.

by

It’s My Bread And Butter

This week I attended a lunch at our church for our Evergreen group – it’s a monthly meeting for those 55+. Centring a meeting around food is always a good idea … we all have to eat, so why not do it together?

96778977

This week we had soup and bread. Now the soups were homemade and very good. I only had the one because the other was a butternut squash soup, and the problem with that was the word “squash”.

I don’t eat squash, and it doesn’t matter how you serve it, I’m not going to eat something that has squash in the name … except squash pie, but that’s only because my grandmother tricked me once and fed it to us as pumpkin pie. Only after we had eaten it did she tell us what she made it with.

I did smell the butternut squash soup and it actually, surprisingly smelt very good … but I still wasn’t about to let it touch my lips.

The soups were good and healthy, but the other part of the meal was bread.

I know the maker of the bread, and I’ve tasted his bread before and it tastes great. He makes a fine bread, and it’s a healthy bread, but you can’t eat bread without butter and that’s what was causing me the anxiety.

If I’m going to eat bread I have to put butter on it. Bread doesn’t taste the same without butter.  And don’t get me started on margarine! I don’t care what they call it. They can call it “I can’t believe it’s not butter”, but I believe it – margarine doesn’t taste like butter.

My mother spent years trying to fool me with different kinds of margarine in my sandwiches and she finally gave up. I don’t eat something that has squash in the name and I won’t eat margarine either.

So I had my bread at the Evergreen lunch and there were several different kinds so I had to try them all. Some of them I liked more than others so I had to try them a few more times.

And each time I tried a piece, I also laid down a layer of butter over the surface.

Even though the bread was healthy, the butter wasn’t. It contains saturated fats and salt … I could feel it going straight into my bloodstream and narrowing my arteries.

Yes, I know you can buy un-salted butter, but you might as well eat the bread dry. Why waste your time spreading something on it that doesn’t add to the flavour?

It was a bad combo: lots of bread (though healthy, it sure wasn’t in the quantities I was eating) and  butter … I’m sure I maxed out on my salt content and saturated fats for the next three days, or weeks!

This was a seniors’ lunch. I almost thought there was a devious plan behind it all.

Here’s the thing: There are things about spending time with God that we enjoy more than others. Maybe it’s the prayer, or Bible reading. It could be the devotional guide. All these are good and are part of a good balanced time with God. But too much spend time in one area breaks the balance. For many people prayer is what gets short-changed. We bulk up on the devotional reading and it leaves us full and out of time for much prayer. Keep prayer a main staple, you might have to cut back on something else that you like a little too much.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What gets in the way of you praying more? Leave your comment below.

by

The Blues is Still Kickin’

The Limestone City Blues Fest was on this weekend and my wife, Lily, and I decided to take it in. I like the “blues” so I was looking forward to hearing some music that sounded like Stevie Ray Vaughan, Albert King or Colin James.

IMG_1733 - Version 2

There was an open-air concert right on Princess Street and when we got within a few blocks, we could hear the guitar man wailing away. We didn’t really need to pay the admission fee; we could hear the music fine from the other side of the barricade. But it’s only up close that you get to feel the music, so we paid.

As we entered onto the blocked off street, we ran into one of our son’s friends. He was eating on the patio of a restaurant in the “hub”. We had a short chat and then moved on to get close to the music.

As we left Gibby, that was the last time I saw someone under 25 for the rest of the night. Actually, it was the last time I saw someone under 65!  We passed into a time warp and everyone you looked at was old, and from a bygone era.

I don’t mean just middle aged – we were the young people in the crowd! I gazed over everyone sitting in their lawn chairs in front of the stage, and it was a sea of white hair. I couldn’t believe it.  Where were all the younger blues fans?

The band leader was just givin’ it on his guitar and these people were soaking it up. I think they probably had their hearing aides turned down and all they really heard was a muffled sound.

Hey, some of them probably turned off their pacemakers because the kick drum was so heavy you felt it inside you, like it was replacing your heartbeat.

It was funny to see all those old folks (some with canes), all happy like they just got out of a nursing home for the night. I checked, but there wasn’t any one of the seniors from my church at the event. And I couldn’t imagine any of them being there, or at least staying for more than two minutes.

The band we saw was called “Papa Chubby” and it was a very descriptive name for the leader of the group. He sat and played his guitar for most of the set, but it wasn’t like his show lacked energy!

The old folks were into it, too; they were moving. One guy reminded me of the bobble head figurines, only he was a whole body bobble head, standing there jiggling.

People were tapping their canes and even formed something of a weak resemblance to a mosh pit at the front of the stage.

We checked out just before it ended. We left the concert area to go grab some gelato on Front Street. And there we were, transported back to present-day Kingston!

Here’s the thing: Just like the “Blues” isn’t music for just an older generation, God is not the God of a past generation. And like anyone can enjoy listening to the Blues, Christ came to reconcile all generations to God. You are never too old or young to believe in God.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What have you stereotyped as being for another generation? Leave your comment below.