Is celebrating a death ok?

Over the past days I have heard much about the death of Bin Laden.

Much has disgusted me. Much about him, if not all disgusted me also. He was responsible for the deaths of many, probably not just on 9/11.

I recall video of him celebrating the "successes" of the 19 hijackers and I was shaken by the morbid happiness demonstrated by himself and his co-conspirators.

Now we see many celebrating his death. Are these no different than him?

Where have we come to when we supposedly intelligent and free people are celebrating the death of another human being? Are we, therefore, no better than he? None of us may wear the mantle of perfection, for all have sinned and have fallen short of the Glory of God.

What is next, gladiatorial games. It's not that far a stretch. One of ours against one of yours for all the marbles. When will we begin to adhere to teaching that implores to "love your enemies" and "do good to those who hurt you"? 

Is this what we want our children to see and learn and do? Celebrating and chanting at the death of one we hate, how much different is this from the early 1930's style propaganda? Look what that gave us.

Interesting that both Hitler and Bin Laden dies on the same day. Part of Obama's re-election plan, I wonder!

Bin Laden, like all of us will stand before our Maker one day. He is the Judge and vengeance is His alone. We too may be found guilty of our crimes but will any be found fit to stand at a time when every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus is Lord of all. There will be no celebrating then, there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth unless a satisfactory substitute for our death is provided.

Being this type of tool is a good thing

It has been a wonderful day. I can't recall a better birthday. I received wonderful gifts including the gift of reflection from many. Gifts as a love language is near the top in my list of love languages. However today has not been filled with literal gifts, and yet I received a number of very nice gifts. Today has been filled with people. It has been filled with my the joy and gracious love of my beloved, it has been filled with the gift of contact by both of my two amazing children, now adults. They have taught me much in their 23 and 20 year life spans. It has been filled with phone calls from family members and posts on my beloveds face book from friends, it has been filled with calls and text messages from friends old and new and filled with contact and even gifts from my new small group.

It has been a day filled with blessings. One of those is a gift from new friends. A book by a favourite author about called "Shaped by God". This book deals with the idea that as we go through trials that God uses them to shape us into better people and better tools for His service.

I want to be a "tool" that is used to help others become who they were created to be. I realize that this type of tool must be used, sometimes in difficult settings to accomplish those tasks. I know that sometimes this type of tool  is dropped and dented, is placed too close to a source of hear and risks being burned. I still want to be that tool.

As birthdays go, this has been one of the best.

Thanks to Jo, my beloved, thanks to Josh and Alex my Christ follower children who depend on Him daily for their every need. Thanks to my friends for calling and writing. Thanks to my family(biological and otherwise) for your calls, emails and your love. Why one man should be so blessed is beyond  my capability to understand.

What have I done to deserve this? That questions is often preceded by a calamity. This is no calamity, this is beautiful, this is life, this is God's love for me and for all, for He did not come to condemn me or the rest of this world, but to save me and the rest of this world through Jesus.

Thanks God for making me a tool to be used in your workbench.

A new journey begins

If you have read the previous post from this morning you will know that today is the anniversary of my birth. I was (and remain) the 5th child in birth line but not the last of my parents. There are two more who followed me. I am the second male, preceded directly by a brother who suffered much and three sisters whose lives differed greatly from my brothers in ways that remain undefined and unspoken and unclear with many remaining questions which will never be answered.

For many years now I have tried to express my thoughts and other things in a journal. I have tried different formats and books and even online. Then I discovered the practice of blogging thanks to Kevin Presseault. I have truly enjoyed blogging however there are limits to what seems like a limitless method of communication. There are so many comments/thoughts/feelings and even opinions that I would like to state but I am hamstrung by civility and the possibility of a lawsuit that prevents me from putting the thoughts on the blog.

So (and yes I am now finally getting to the point), I have decided to return to the world of journalling effective immediately. I asked for a journal for my birthday and received a beautiful book this morning. Do not fear or fret, the blog will continue. I need a lighthearted way to get some things out and there still resides the possibility that the obscure musical lyric (OML) will return. On another note(pun intended), the OML will be taking a new form soon. For those of you who read this at my place of employment, the company newspaper ATB will start publishing a version of the OML probably in the new year.

Funny, I am listening as I write. the song "Time Was" is on the playlist currently with the opening line of "I've got to rearrange my life, I've got to rearrange my world". I guess that starting to journal will help me to rearrange my world and place the important things first.  

It may be difficult to define what goes where at first, but I anticipate that in time life will find a way of sorting itself out.

Peach and Shalom to you all

A Momentous occasion

And what would that be I wonder? In the space of the last three days, I went from having a teenager in the house to having no teenagers at all and I turned 53. When we say turn what exactly do we mean anyway. In my younger days I recall a "turn" as being something not so good as in "he's taken a bad turn". But birthdays are not necessarily a bad thing, so what exactly is meant by the term turn?

It's my birthday today. I am surrounded by love, not just because it is "my" birthday, but because I have so many people around me who are loving and who love me. Before anyone human I must consider the Creator who "knew me in my mothers womb", who "knit my bones together", who "love me so much He sent His son to die not to condemn me but to love and save me". In this temporal world I think first of my beloved who demonstrates unconditional love better than anyone besides the Saviour, I think of my kids who love and respect me, I think of the rest of my biological family and while I do not always hear from them, I always hear from my sister Margaret, who loves me. I think of my new "father" figure Stan, who in spite of losing his daughter and his wife finds so much room in his heart to demonstrate love to all the "family". I would be remiss to forget my in-laws who have loved me since I first began to date their daughter way back in 1976. They are loving, forgiving and obviously very patient.

There are people missing today. I miss my parents. Without them, I would not be here. While that is painfully obvious to all, their influence either good or bad remains. I miss friends from long ago, a song called "for absent friends" expresses some of my feelings at this time, a particular line which says:

"looking back at days of four 

instead of two, 

years seem so few, 

heads bent in prayer 

for friends not there"

I miss my Mom and Dad and I miss my friend Ruth today on my birthday. I wish I could hear her speak truth in to my life just one more time. She, like the priest in the song was "close to God". Now, she is living with God and I wonder if she hears me?

Yes, it is a momentous occasion, and I must take these moments with the living, not slumber or sorrow with the dead or pine "for absent friends". 

I am here and I will celebrate with the living I will share my joy for it is a joyous occasion to celebrate the gift of another year.

To sleep and rest some more

I changed plans this weekend. I was supposed to be away with 56 guys at a lake in cottages attending a men's retreat. I agreed to attend, in part because some of my friends asked me to be there. Part of me really didn't want to be there though. I came home on Friday confused about my decision. I decided to take some rest and then make a final decision.

I finally decided that I would not attend the retreat and once I did that I felt like a mountain had been taken off my shoulders. I called and emailed those closest to me to advise of my decision and to a man they support me, thanks guys. Above you can see a photo from last years retreat and this is what I would have seen again.

I need rest. I need a break and spending the weekend busy with retreat things will not have allowed me to do this. Will I have missed some positives, of course. But, I slept 12 hours last night, I don't normally sleep that much and I would not have gotten that rest at the cottage with the guys.

There is more rest needed. I need to rest from grieving, and I don't know how. Grief has taken and gripped me in a fierce battle. I have fought it and endured it, I have cried and sobbed and I still cannot shake it. I need help and decided that I needed to reach out and get some help. I am meeting someone on Tuesday at his office to talk about my grief, my feelings, my pain and I want to live in this grief and experience it deeply and then I want it to go!

I want to remember my friend for so much more than my warm living hand on her cold head. There are times that this is all I can remember and it crushes my heart like a grape is crushed for juice, without mercy. I hope that with time, this grief observed will help me to better understand the depth of love that I have for her and most importantly the depth of love God has for me. Knowing His loss, He still loved me, knowing my loss, He still loves me and He is not offended by my anger, frustration or disappointment.

I need to rest some more.................

I need to.........................................

I need............................................

I...................................................

honesty, truth and friendship

For over two years I have been sharing time in the morning every Monday to Friday with some very dear friends. One of the friends has since passed and I have written often about my struggle with losing her. With her passing I didn't know what would happen with these conversations, now I call her husband every morning to share a little of what I have "discovered" from my daily bible reading adventures.

This morning out of all the verses that I read one little verse from the book of proverbs stood out. Proverbs chapter 24:26 states: "an honest answer is like a kiss of friendship". I shared it with my friend and the words, honesty, truth and friendship just stuck out.

Honesty, Truth and Friendship. Is there anything else that we could ask for? Does my life have definition based on them? Can we actually share those with anyone?

Dreams should be greater than memories

I heard a piece of a message from Chuck Swindoll on the radio today. I don't remember anything except this quote, "dreams should be greater than memories".

For some reason, I have once again been immersed in thoughts about dreaming. I know that I have lamented the lack of dreaming on my part and the paucity of dreamers that are somewhat rational.  I believe that thoughts come for a reason. Within me lies a dreamer who has become afraid to dream. I am pushed to the limit by the lack of authenticity in my life because I seem to just be filling roles for the sake of making time count.

If my dreams are to be greater than my memories then what can i dream about? What is there out there or in there for me to dream and hopefully go beyond dreaming and put it into action. I am still working on "Into the Wild" and trying to learn from Chris McCandless and the other dreamers who gave up normalcy to accomplish their dreams.

I have to first allow myself to dream and I have to move the dreams from their present hidden place in my consciousness and bring them to the fore. Exactly how I do that is a lingering question. If I accomplish that, what happens then? I immediately began to think and write from a negative perspective I " can't" do that because ............... just came to my mind.

Where does this leave me now? I have great memories and I want dreams that are greater than these, why? They will create even greater memories and then the dreams will be substantially greater again. This is becoming like the song that doesn't end.

Somehow, I think this dream question is starting to become formed into something more than a frustrating idea. it is beginning to form itself into a practical application that might become real. I do hope so because it is frustrating to say the least.

into every life a little rain must fall

I have used this phrase many times over the years when people have commented or even dare I say, complained about the rain. I wasn't sure where it came from and some have thought that I was the originator. Unfortunately, I am not and the line actually comes from a song that the great Ella Fitzgerald and others sang. So, it's not a new phrase, but it lacks nothing because it still drips with meaning.

I usually use the phrase to respond to a negative comment. Rain is often seen by those in the comfortable west as a hindrance to every day pleasures. There are those who would die for a drop of rain, in fact they are dying because of the absence of rain. That's not why I decided to write this post, though.

Rain has wonderful qualities. It hides tears, it washes away sadness, at least on the outside. It waters the ground making it fertile. It cleanses. Too many people I speak with complain about the rain because of the temporary difficulty that it brings. The shallowness of such an approach denies the beauty of the rain and the blessings it brings.

Yes, into every life a little rain must fall, but it doesn't have to be an unwelcome thing, does it? When we were children we played in the rain much to the chagrin of our mothers. They thought we would catch a cold (how do you catch a cold anyway) and it would be "the death of us". Do you remember jumping in puddles, or riding your bike in the rain or watching the drops slowly fall from the leaves of a tree after the rain had stopped. Did you ever walk ahead of someone and grab a branch just as they walked under the tree, only to soak them?

Where is the joy of the rain? The simple effervescence of childhood bubbling over in the explosion of happiness at the sound of squeaking wellies and rainwater. Or the single drop of water causing ripples to flow seamlessly across a pond. Never returning but accomplishing their sole task of rolling across the pond. Much like the one in the photo below, thanks to Anders Gustafsson (I wonder if he is related to the Monster?)

So the next time it rains and it will, unless you live in a desert (and it rains there too sometimes), enjoy it. Embrace the pleasure of water streaming endlessly from the sky and let the drops wash away the grime of your day. Trust it to rejuvenate your spirit and remember the former times when you jumped and splashed and squealed with delight and just got soaked and loved it.

It must fall and you can choose what to do with it when it hits you...............and smile

It's already been a month

I have a hard time believing that a month and more has passed since I lost Ruth. Many others lost her too, some who knew her for many years. But I lost someone who knew me, who loved me, who trusted me and who believed in me so much.

There is at least one others person who also does the same things and she loves me no matter what. My beloved will always believe in me, Ruth meant something different than my beloved did. Ruth was like a Mom to me and there is a special relationship between a young man and his Mom. I see it with my own son, he and his mother have a bond that is nigh unbreakable. It is amazing to watch and see the depth of the love and the honesty and fun and trust they have and they are something to behold.

I had that with Ruth and she is gone. I want to call her and tell her about my accomplishments, like walking around the block and I can't. I know some think that you can talk to the dearly departed and they hear us, I want more than that I want a response.  That's not too much to ask is it? I can ask, but I am not going to get it any time soon.

In the parts of my brain that understand hard facts, I know I will see her again, but I want to see her now. I want to talk to her and hear her advice and wise comments and even a few wise cracks. Oh she could laugh and love but she couldn't last. That damn cancer took her and yes I understand it was God's timing, but just once I wanted it to be on my terms. So many kind acting people have said things like "we only see one part of the canvas", or "we only see just a few pixels of the whole picture" and I understand all that, it just doesn't help to alleviate the hurt.

Their well meaning platitudes don't help anymore.

How do I miss her? let me count the ways.................

It's been a month already

I can't really believe it.

A month has gone by since she passed and I miss her still and so much.

Death is a thief, it comes at the most inopportune time and steals our loved ones from us. It rips them from our hands and draws them from the warmth of our lives.

And yet, we who believe that death is not final know this, the victory of death is short lived and the sting of death will pass. We know that she is living an eternal life with the one she loved more than us. We know that all she really wanted was to see Jesus and be welcomed home. We know that she was received with these words: "well done good and faithful servant into into the joy of your rest". And rest she will, when she is not loving and worshipping the one who formed her in her mothers womb. The one who lovingly sought after her when she needed to really know Him.

A month has gone in our time measurement. We will see you again soon but I still miss you terribly.........

Of book burning, mosques, 911 and other stuff..........

What is it with people these days anyway?

Maybe, just maybe, Rodney King had it right when he said "why can't we all just get along?".

It's probably because of one thing, selfishness. The burning of someone else's holy book no matter what you think of it and its' contents is just plain wrong. There is nothing good that can come from this behaviour. But, to blame it as an excuse for other behaviour is just idiotic and irrational. That's tantamount to saying "you made me (add your own action here)". No one can make you do anything you choose not to do. So, now thousands in places afar and to most unknown are protesting and burning flags and who knows what else, and not just American flag by the way. I wonder why? This just gives the haters another stage and who is to blame for that? For the so called leader of the free world to get into this "discussion" is also idiotic. The press blew the story about the 50 member church in Florida into the flames that it has become (no pun intended). This is so much more than the 15 minutes that they deserved, if in fact they deserved any. The time to stop reporting this on national news is now. It's time to stop reporting on this selfish man and his flock. Take away the platform.

And another thing is this mosque or centre that they are planning to build. The plan is to name it Cordoba, and not after the car by the way. They hold Cordoba as a bastion of inter religious equality, but a good read of history tells a different tale. The place was taken by force from Christians many years ago. Read the truth and see what it really means. So, why would a "peace loving" group want to put an Islamic Centre near the place of almost 3000 murders? Why is there a church still awaiting permission from the City of New York to repair their building damaged on 911 when this "centre" has been given permission to go ahead? Mr. Trump is offering to purchase the land at a 25% premium in cash so that they would not build their centre there and what has been the answer? They purchased the property for 4.8 million less than a year ago and Trump offered them 6 million. They said no because the property is worth more than 20 million. In an article in "The Atlantic" Trump refers to this as "extortion". Hmm, selfishness, you bet! Just watch carefully and see what they do with this one.

This weekend, tomorrow to be exact is the 9th anniversary of the murders of September 11, 1991. Some people are looking at the beginning of the Jewish High Holy days, the end of ramadan and the anniversary of 911 as some type religious confluence or convergence of great import. This is being used to talk about tolerance, a wonderful word that currently seems to mean "don't disagree with me or I'll add phobe to the end of whoever I am and apply it to you". What I believe is really happening is the opportunity to trick people into accepting what they do not wish to accept under the guise of tolerance and political correctness . Once again, selfishness but to what aim? What's next a one world religion?

Why can't we just get along? Because in a life without peace, forgiveness and some semblance of a "golden rule" there will always be selfishness. How can we change the course of humanity? Try a little tenderness, (I just had to have a musical reference). But seriously folks, when was the last time you worked for peace? When was the last time you forgave someone? When was the last time you did to someone as you wish they would have done to you? Life isn't about burning books, or imposing oneself on others, or extortion but rather on living a life beyond the mirror of self and one of serving others.

Some thoughts as the summer draws to an end and the fall begins and winter awaits.........................

Recovery is slow, but greater things are yet to come

I am enjoying sitting and reading and of course listening.

I have just heard a song whose chorus says "greater things are yet to come" and I believe it. There is so much of a practical nature to accomplish and at the same time the depth of the loss gets deeper. The more I think about her , the more I miss her.

And now there will be more. It's hard to explain in this medium but more loss is expected and soon. It all makes total sense for those involved, but some of us will be left behind, thankfully not like the book series.

Recovery is slow but it is happening. So many things remind me of Ruth. Having her things reminds me, seeing her written instructions for a Rhubarb cake reminds me, looking at and dealing with the things in her purse reminds me. She too kept things for a long time.

Recovery means getting better and believing that greater things are yet to come, even in the midst of this great loss. I guess that greater things might even trump the great loss at some time. I have to believe that because being positive is so much better than being negative and being dragged down will not happen. Life will find a way and in the midst of more loss, joy will return, first ion memories, then in activities and then in greater laughter when reunions occur. Yes, recovery is slow, but greater things are yet to come.

Waves of Grief

I can't remember it being like this. The grief comes and goes like massive waves crashing on me like the ocean. There are relative times of peace or is it just distraction? Then the next wave comes and it washes over me and is bitter like the gallons of salt water at the sea.

I can't and won't control it. It is a message that I still have a heart. I want to cry again but I am now afraid that I won't stop again. Once again that fear of losing it to the despair sits on my shoulder and says go ahead and see what happens.

What love is this, that I miss you so much that I need constant distraction to drive you out. I don't want to drive you out though, I want to remember you and I want to smile and laugh with abandon and in joy. I can't look at the pictures yet, I can't see you like that, I have to remember you before cancer eat it's way through your beautiful body. More than a shell you were, you were a vessel of great beauty that was used to reflect His great joy and peace to so many other people.

The waves still crash on this ragged shore. He had no idea what collateral damage would be when he acted out  2 years ago. He had no clue because he was so selfish and because of that many more are left to mourn a greater loss.

What a weird thought, if he hadn't done it, then I wouldn't have this loss to speak about. Not that I am about to thank him, but it does make me think and know that all these actions are related and someone is in control, no matter what.

So hard to let go

I lost a friend today. She was so much more than a friend to me. She went peacefully at 5:40 am, I saw her within ten minutes and sat and cried as I have never cried before. She was certainly a mother figure, a mentor, an example and someone who was more real than most people I have met. We talked daily for over two years and we didn't just talk about the weather. We talked about deep life experiences and the effect of great losses on our lives. We always talked about the bible. For the past 2 + years I have been able to read my bible daily and from these readings at least one verse stood out for her and her husband. She  gave me a purpose that I have not felt before. I was responsible for keeping her up to date in my life. Through this I was also responsible for not giving up, but for ensuring that I kept reading as I had agreed to.

I'm supposed to write a eulogy for her. I have never written one before and it is weighing heavily on me. What do I say about her that borders on such a personal relationship? She did not want too much made of her in this memorial service. She didn't want people to hear all the good things about her, rather she wanted people to hear about what and who she believed in.

She was a Christ follower. She knew the bible well. She had committed much of the bible to memory and much of her personal bible was covered in highlighted parts. These verses spell out her life and her relationship with her Lord.

So many people have said: "she's no longer in pain" and that is true, but the selfish me wants her still here so I can draw deep from the well that she is. The selfish me wants her here longer than her creator does and I have to listen to Him and "let her go". But it's too hard to do that. I wasn't finished with her yet, I wanted so much more from her and I realize that her body was worn out beyond her time frame and she needed to go home. She even said it several days ago, when asked she nodded that she was tired of this earth and wanted to go and visit with her daughter and her Lord.

And there she is, meeting Val and Jesus who said t her "well done good and faithful servant enter into your rest". She needed and deserved rest, while I still have work to accomplish. I have practical things to do for her, her husband and their grandchildren and I have much more to do. I will follow my path and wait for my turn to break free from this harsh world. Today I fight with letting go, some day I will be be waiting to go and see her again.

It's still too hard to let go, but there is coming a day when I will see her again. When that day arrives, I will have no pain, there will be no tears and death will be defeated and there will be no more dying and that's a much better prospect.

Some people think the flight attendant is a hero?

I don't get it.

The guy was sworn at (allegedly) and got bumped on the head by a piece of luggage. It appears that someone on the plane didn't play by the FAA rules, and of course he has been an arbiter of these rules for twenty years.

Does that give him permission to swear at everyone on the plane? (he allegedly used the intercom system), to steal (he took beer that was not his to take) to potentially put people at risk (he opened and then exited by the emergency chute)? Then it is reported that he ran to his car and drove home without finishing his shift (yes I assume that this is not normal end of day practice).

What in this scenario makes this guy a hero? To steal (and modify) a line from an old movie "he got mad as hell and didn't take it anymore". That's not the way I taught my children to respond to difficulty and I bet that many of you out there taught the same. Oh yes there have been days when I might have wanted to say "take this job and shove it", actually to be honest, there was only one time and I didn't do that. I faced the difficulty, created a plan and successfully moved on without burning bridges.

I try to treat others with respect even when I receive disrespect from them. The people I rub shoulders with, work with and many others follow the same standard. They have chosen the higher approach (pun not intended) when they are treated with disrespect because they know that they are called to treat others the way they want to be treated.

When we lash out we do not know what will come back. This person will likely lose his job and potentially pay a higher price for his choice. Yes, it was a choice he made. We all have to take responsibility for our actions. Isn't that something most people learned and then taught their children?

A hero? Definitely not in my opinion. A hero is someone who is admired (although some do admire this person) and also idealized for courage, achievement and nobility. None of these were expressed in his behaviour. This is not the hero I would "hold" up for others to emulate.

Too bad though, he was a twenty year employee and that's quite an achievement isn't it?

Dreaming...............

Does anyone dream anymore? I am not asking about the night terrors, or wonderful imaginations that occur during sleep. I wonder does anyone dream about doing something that hasn't been done by someone else, or done by so few people that it seems almost crazy?

I just read about Ed Stafford on www.walkingtheamazon.com. This man has walked the entire length of the Amazon over the past two years. Can you imagine doing that? I can't even imagine dreaming about doing that. But why? What stops me from dreaming about some "adventure"? Does it have to be an adventure? What is dreaming anyway? One definition speaks of "imagining or inventing something". Life sometimes is so dull that dreaming has become all but forgotten.

When did I last dream? When was the most recent investment of time thinking about and imagining something to complete? Why don't we allow people to "daydream"? This modern culture sees no benefit in sitting and thinking. There is always someone to ask uncomfortably "what are you thinking about" and thereby interrupts the thought process. I can't dream if I can't sit and think uncontested.

As that wise philosopher, Richard O'Brien, once wrote "don't dream it, be it". Maybe he had it right all along and then maybe not. To focus on the accomplishment eventually means the death of the dream, doesn't it? Oh bother, as a certain bear would say.

Can you see the real me? Can ya, can ya?

No I haven't been listening to Quadrephenia lately, however maybe I should. I digress of course, if you have never listened to this wonderful piece by The Who, or haven't listened lately, you should.

I heard someone use similar words to the title of this post today. Then she began to talk about masks and the practice that most of us have in wearing masks to hide who we really are. I do it and you probably do it too, so let's be honest about it.

I'm quite sure I have posted about this before, the Greek actors or "hupokritēs" wore masks just for that reason. They were two sided. We, however can be more than two sided, can't we? "Why" is the question that I have. Why do we determine that we need to wear a mask? Why can't we trust others enough to be open and honest? Why can't we trust ourselves to be open and honest with others.

The question asked is can you see the real me? What or who is the real me? I have spent time in solitude on numerous occasions trying to answer that ever so simple question. I don't need to answer the simplistic questions that can be answered with empirical data. I do need to answer the questions that delve deep past the masks and lies. I need to drill down below the tapes that have been playing for so long. They don't define who I am. That is something that I am happy for.

Can I see the real me, Can I, can I?

The view from the passenger seat

I have been dutifully sitting in the passenger seat for 6 weeks now. If you know me, you will know that I am not the best passenger in the world. I admit that it's a control thing, but I have hated being a passenger in my own car. Yet today as we spent some time alone, I looked and saw such wonderful beauty in the landscape not far from our home. I saw so much and this is just another blessing that has come from my surgery. Yes I feel better already, but I have seen so much more by being a passenger.

It kinda makes me want to go hmm. To voluntarily give up control to someone else is not a bad thing. Of course, one needs to completely relinquish all and take one's hands off to get to this point. I was forced to be a passenger because of a medical issue, so it was not completely voluntary, but the message that slams into me is this: what else do I need to let go of before it is taken from me? That scares me to be honest. Is it my beloved, my kids, another family member, my career or even my life.

The benefit is that everything looks better from the passenger seat. When I gave up control, I saw the beauty of everything. Am I willing to give up and let go of the other things in my life so that I can really see them for what they are? These are not just rhetorical questions, these require me to act. These require me to will myself to let go, to have my fingers pried off and to say that I do not have all the answers. I am tired of fighting and squeezing. What's it going to take to have me let go? I am unwilling to risk force and I think my attention has been made to stand up.

I have driven a few times since being given permission. But today was the longest distance and the greatest amount of time that I have spent behind the steering wheel. Today, I drove for about a half hour. I have spent many years driving and have driven long distances but I have not really felt the utter exhaustion I felt after the thirty minutes I drove this morning. I needed to let go and I did. A very good lesson was learned today, let's see if it sticks.

It's Quiet and I am thinking

They've all gone to church and I am left alone with my thoughts and a few sounds: the tapping on the keyboard, the usual rumbling of the house as it settles and the rare car as it travels on it's lonely ride down the on the road. And it's quiet.

I love the times when I can sit in relative quiet and think.

Sometime the thoughts are ones of great joy, like yesterday's celebration of my beloved's birthday. We had a small celebration, not like one for someone who is eleventyone, but small and only with family in attendance. She turned (where did that phrase come from anyway) 50 yesterday. She didn't want a big celebration because she knew that it would have caused me to expend too much energy while I am still in recovery mode. That's just one thing that is so special about my beloved. I would write more, but she reads this and does not like attention drawn to herself. So, she is amazing, beautiful, gifted, gentle, generous, kind and she has been mine for almost 30 years and I love her.

In quiet times like this I think and pray for those I care about and I wonder when the dreaded will occur. In the midst of that fear I am comforted by the knowledge that when it does happen she will be with Him and she will have no more pain.

It's quiet, and I am thinking........................

Reading in the sunshine

Oh what a glorious day it has been.

I spent some time reading The Lord of The Rings and listening to the soundtrack of all three films at the same time. I didn't get through all the sound tracks mind you, but I did get through about half the first chapter. For accuracy's sake, I read from half the first chapter to half the second chapter.

I am amazed how much more detail I get each time I read the book. I haven't read them in years, but there is so much to get from them. In fact, one of my favourite quotes is from the first portion of the book. In the film, it is saved for Gandalf's chat with Frodo while stuck in Moria, but in the book it actually happens in Bag End. Frodo exclaims: "I wish it need not have happened in my time" and Gandalf says to Frodo, "so do I , and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us".

Wow, "all" is so encompassing, "decide" is so powerful, "time" is limited by what is "given" to us. To be sure the events that life has given me over the last two plus years have provided me with an array of experiences. Just sitting in the sunshine, enjoying words and music cause me to think so much about life. Life, with is seeming unfairness sometimes stinks. In spite of the depth of my faith, I sometimes just want to rail at life and scream why! Maybe it's the depth that stops me when I look at people like Job or Paul or Peter or Jesus and see that they too lived a life that was "unfair". I recall my retort to my children when they complained about the unfairness of life and I would say: "life's not fair" and it isn't.

Reading in the sunshine reminds me that in the beauty of all that is good, there remains that which is evil and because of that evil we live in an unfair and imperfect world. All I have to do is decide what to do with the time that is given to me................hmm what will I decide to do?