A Happy Childhood

This morning, on the way into town, I had to drive through a construction zone on the highway. They were resurfacing a portion of it I guess.

But as I slowed down and waved at the flag lady, or girl, the smell just captured me. My attention was drawn immediately to the smell. It was the smell of asphalt or tar we used to call it. Oil was certainly a big part of that smell.

When that smell hit me, a picture flashed through my mind of grandpa Thiessen. I know he used to work as a flagman on the highways, and I would sometimes go out with him on the work projects and you could smell that smell all day long.

The tar, the oil, the asphalt, and somehow in my mind it's been connected with him all these years.

But this morning was a real, powerful reminder. The image that came to me was of him. I remember smelling that in their yard as well because the Austin town streets were being recovered.

So even at their house, there's an echoing memory of tar and oil.

It's funny how that thought and that smell can be a comfort. How that terrible, nasty, gross smell can be the good thing, a blessing.

But as I thought about that, it led me to remember summers at their house. In southern Manitoba, in a small town, in a small house, on a nice green yard with lots of room to play and to laugh and to have fun. When we would go there for summers the times were special.

Sometimes we would bring a trailer and park it in their backyard and us kids would sleep in the trailer for night .

But summers in southern Manitoba are different.

The heat will get you.

The humidity is even worse.

It can be 30°+ Celsius, but when you add the humidity to it, it can become overbearing. Especially more as I aged.

But back then, when I was a kid, we just handled it. We sweat. A lot.

After hot and humid days of trying to find ways to stay cool while being very busy outside, there would come a bit of a gentle breeze.

The heat was always so overpowering and heavy and as evening would come, so would the thunderstorms. Thunder and lightning storms in Southern Manitoba are unlike other places I've ever lived.

They were stunning and dramatic, earthshakingly powerful.

The noise and the flashing lights was an amazing thing for a kid who wasn't necessarily afraid of them. But we still took wise precautions.

But after a hot humid day, the rains would pour and pour, and the lightning would flash, and thunder would roll again and again late into the night. You would go back to bed after that storm cleared and somehow fall back asleep, and soon another one would roll through.

Then, early in the morning the sun would rise and the birds would start singing. They were especially noticeable when I slept outside in the trailer.

When you left the trailer to go into the house to wash up, things felt so different. It’s those mornings I remember the most.

I remember that the air was sweet and cool.

The birds would sing happy as could be. And the whole day seemed blessed.

There was a sweet smell to the air. It was full of hope and potential. Another new day, what would happen that day?

We had made it through another storm. Everybody still alive, nothing damaged, and nobody hurt.

But I remember the breeze. The breeze would be cool because some of the moisture in the air. The humidity would be there, with none of the heaviness.


Yeah I remember the air being sweet, if that's a word I can use to describe it.

It was it was a thick, good wind because it brought moisture to the nose, to your skin, and that's always good. .


The memories continued to unfold as I remember Grandma.

In her house dress. Cooking or washing up, keeping the house going, talking and encouraging and checking on us or being out in her garden.

She was always out there early in the year, one of the first ones out on her block to be in the garden.

I remember that she seemed to love doing that, being outside, with her vegetables and her flowers, her onions, potatoes.

Yeah, she loved that.

She was a kind woman, but stern, firm, maybe firm is better.

She gave you a lot of room to be a kid.

She didn't have a great deal of high expectations.

Just behave reasonably and that was good enough.

She fed us well with fresh homemade bread. And boiled potatoes with gravy.

I remember Inside of the house was always so hot in summer. It was a small house so when three or four or eight people were in it, the temperatures would rise. So they would try to blow air through. Fans would be running all the time.

The fans and the open doors and the open windows would help that sweet air to blow into the house and help so much. I sometimes wonder how all those people made it without air conditioning in those days. How they could manage it, but they did.


Later in the morning, I would head outside to where my grandpa had a little wood shop, a workshop, built and attached to the back of the garage.

And you could go in the side door there, and they had a big counter with woodworking tools of all kinds. A lathe and saws and drills, and drill presses, and all kinds of wonderful tools to play with, and I would work and create for hours.

I would make little salt and pepper shakers on the wood lathe that I had learned how to make in school.

I would make airplanes, wooden airplanes, and grandpa would help me with that.

I remember he helped me with my first one. We made a an airplane with just two by four body and a wing that was made of, I don't know, a quarter inch plywood. Not a very big deal, maybe a foot by a foot, but a fun wonderful toy that you had built yourself, and then you would go play with it, and you would paint it, and you could put it on a weather vane if you wanted. But it was yours. You created it.

It was wonderful.

But that's how woodworking used to be. And that's how play used to be in those days. It was creative. It was fun.

I remember once, my cousin and I who lived out there, we took a 22 rifle and we laid it on a 2x 6 plank. Just three or four feet long, and we traced its outline on the wood, and then we cut it with a saw, and we cut out the shape of this gun, and we began to work it, to soften the edges, to sand it, to rasp it, to grind it into a pretty good looking toy gun that we could play with.

Those were fun happy moments. Terribly enjoyable memories for me today.

Yeah, playing, just playing.

I miss the days of playing.

I miss the wonders of the mornings and the sweet smell of the air in the mornings.

I miss the comfort and the peace and the safety in their place.

I'm glad for the memories. They are blessings to me and I want to create them for my grandkids too.

So we shall see.

Just the whole family is all !!!

 we haven’t been all in the same room for over 11 years now, and that was before many people existed and many relationships even existed. Well, this was our Christmas picture when we all got together this past Christmas. I can’t believe it took me this long to get it up here.

My how the times have changed, and so have the numbers of this gang. It’s hard to believe really.

Another One Done

Christmas has come and gone. New Years has come and gone. And family has come and gone. Nothing left to do but rest and recuperate.

Well, and clean up the decorations, pay some bills, start planning next Sundays service, and record daily prayers. Normal life stuff.

To say we are tired would be a bit of an understatement. To be fair, there are plenty of flu’s going around and sickness so there is more going on than just life tiredness.

Since Sunday afternoon we’ve been kind of snoozing and sleeping, morning, noon, and night. Interspersed by occasional washroom breaks and eating simple food.

But it was a great Christmas. Lots of family around and lots of the community came to the services. Many of whom I met for the first time. It was the kind of time where there is much hope for the future of the church. Makes me smile. God is at work.


The trick I am continuing to try to learn in this season, is what is health related tiredness and what is age related. It’s not easy knowing that stuff. Feels like learning new limits each week, each season.

I am realizing how stubborn I am when it comes to listening to others about slowing down a bit. Doesn’t bode well for whenever it’ll be time to think about moving out of our own place.

I may just be one of those curmudgeonly old guys who doesn’t realize when the game is up. May God have mercy on us, and our children

Vroooooooooooom, where did that go mate?? Yeah time travel is hard on the body

Tuesday was the 30th anniversary of our ordination, with the EMMC.  

I want to say how did that happen? How did thirty some years of pastoring pass by so suddenly?

I think of all the bible studies and small group gatherings, all the people visited. I recall the faces of the people who have come to faith. Some dramatically and some with simple faith. 

I think of all the various committee and board work I’ve been involved with. City and town ministerials, denominational boards and event planning. Bringing world class Christian speakers to our communities. Starting intentional opportunities for pastors to get together to pray and build relationships. 

I remember the calls announcing deaths, some In the middle of the night. The calls to ask me, can you help? The phone calls from hospitals, the RCMP, chaplains, asking if I can come now. 

The holy moments of being with people as they pass from this life to the next. Then being present with the families who have been left behind. Weeping. 

Walking with people through their critical illnesses as far as we could go with them. Praying. Driving to the hospital each day. Praying. Saying good bye. 

The funerals with families that wouldn’t stop arguing, or squabbling over the quality of the casket. Or being in the hearse with the casket and the funeral director, driving in circles around the cemetery looking for the open ground and finding none because it wasn’t dug. 

Then the excited couples who would come to me after a service all excited because they were getting married and wanted me to do the wedding.  Or the couples who have been trying for so long to have a baby and Lauralea and I would pray over them and they would call with the good news. 

The church meetings, oh all the meetings.  Board, Counsel, Audio-Video, nomination committee, worship committee, Deacon board, Trustee board, Christian Education board, Budget, Congregational, Annual, Pastoral Relations committee, Prayer, Youth, Staff…

I remember with joy the baptisms. People new to faith who wanted to enter the water to show their desire to follow God. The moments when somebody "Got it."  And in that moment, everything changed.

I remember the sermons preached. As a young pastor searching for and praying for that one amazing message that would change lives. Then growing and finding there was not one message like that. So then choosing to stay faithful to the message that God called me to speak, again and again. Over 2000 sermons and they were all the same really. All about Gods mercy and all about Gods love. 

I will be surprised if I am still preaching in another 30 years. I mean I'll give it my best shot, but God only knows the times. 

Ten Days in California

This month we spent 10 days down in California for church meetings etc. It was in Anaheim CA To be exact. In fact we were staying about three or four blocks due South of Disneyland. (You can insert your own comments here about denominational annual meetings being their own sort of Disneyland.)

I had to be there to complete my five year term of work on the board of ordered ministry. It was really good to see that work come to an end. I found it to be very fulfilling and very intense work but also very satisfying. Especially when we were able to help a pastor or a church leader who found themselves in a difficult situation. Especially especially when they were willing to be helped. 

Last night of our meetings the board held a dinner to celebrate those who were leaving the board. There were two of us this year and the evening turned out to be very moving. The many individuals who were on the board had become friends over the years, somewhat even brothers in arms. They were amazingly kind and generous in their affirming comments. It was considerably humbling to sit and listen as they thanked me for all the different gifts that I brought to the table.

Following that was the ministerial meeting and then the next days began the denominational annual meeting. I have been wanting to take Lauralea too many times but this time I wasn't taking no for an answer and I booked her a flight.    

I would say we had a lot of fun those days. We found an amazing little Mexican restaurant across the street from the hotel, and beside that was a target store which was just more fun for us. 

Yes we made it up to Disneyland for a few hours the one day. Of course the temperatures were high but we found the sun wasn't as hot as it is here in this field. Anyway we snooped around there and got a couple of souvenirs and headed back to the hotel and the air conditioned room. 

It was great to get away and to show Lauralea the people and the work that I've been doing for the past five years. It was fun to share some good meals together a bunch of laughs and sharing in some experiences that we can remember in the years ahead.

Maybe some pics of the fun.

California at the hotel

Hotel Entrance

By the pool

My first taste of crab

At Disneyland

A beautiful evening by the pool

The Delegate gets to work

Board Friends

 

Vacation 2023

 Lauralea and I realized that we hadn’t taken a vacation since last October, and it was all starting to catch up with us so it was time to take a break. 

Well, kind of a break I guess.

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it here before but one year ago Lauralea and I purchased a Home in Lanigan Saskatchewan. It’s kind of our cabin if you will, but maybe one day it might also be a retirement place for us. In the meantime, it’s a good place to go to connect with some of the kids and my siblings and my mom. 

It is 100 year old house, and in many ways it is a great blessing to us. And in a few smaller other ways, it needs some love so last autumn we had the roof replaced. But now the outside needed some attention Brown had to go.

So the plan was to hire some painters and to head out and see the transformation happen. I got involved with the painting as well but I couldn’t quite keep up to their speed. It was fun mostly.

Do you want to see some pictures? Well here you go.

“Crazy Little Thing Called Love”

Forty years ago today on a dirt road in a field in Northern Alberta, Lauralea and I started dating.

We had become friends, good friends I would say. And we had hung out together a number of times. But this was another level in our friendship. They used to call it going steady. No more playing the field. No more two dates at the same time. (ask me about that sometime.)  No this would be something else.

It would be the road that would lead to an engagement and then to marriage. We never really believed how it would ever lead to forty years together since that day.  But it creeps up on you, one day at a time. Which turns into weeks, and then months, and then years, and then, apparently decades. 

It's like a mixed feeling of success and utter amazement.  It's like a realization that you know you have something in your possession. Something valuable, that very few people have. It's more valuable than gold, or jewels, or whatever is at the bottom of the treasure on Oak Island. 

Here is someone that you have spent most of your life with. And someone who knows you better than anyone else in the world, but still sticks around. :) 

Yesterday we were watching a television show and at the commercial break she turned to me and I turned to her and we both said exactly the same thing to one another. Word for word.  Thats what forty years together will get ya.  Well, that and a Coke because I said it first.

I don't expect we'll see another 40 years together, but you never know.  We'll take what we get and celebrate as much as we can. We will tell each other the same stories, and we will laugh at the same inside jokes. We will look at each other in a crowded room, and know what the other one is thinking. And we will remember, as long as we can remember, moments like these in our past that we shared. 

Having someone in your life to do that with is honestly worth all the gold and jewels you could have. 

I am a Friesen. I don't stop when I'm tired. I stop when I'm done.

This morning as I was checking on the church's social media account, this picture popped up on my screen. This evil, dark demonic picture just sat there, mocking me. Someone wanted me to purchase it. 

My tongue is only partly in my cheek. 

This is one of my besetting sins, my comfort when I feel vulnerable. I could always say in every situation that I faced that I gave it everything I had.  You might be able to accuse me of getting it wrong, or of missing the mark, or of failing again, and again, but it gave me comfort that you would never be able to say that I didn't try. And try very hard. 

This is the attitude that God has been in the process of delivering me from for five or six years now.  And I am a very slow learner. Working hard isn't wrong, but when that hard work becomes your identity and your protection, it is wrong. 

It seems now like my health is being used to help me learn this lesson.  This year it has become apparent that if I am doing chores or shovelling, or sweeping or vacuuming, or studying or leading a meeting or whatever, instead of stopping when I'm halfway done, I press in to get it all done.  And then I drag my sorry broken body to bed. 

Yesterday morning I had a meeting in town, and then I ran a few errands for the church. I got home a little after noon and my plan was to go to the office to work on my sermon for the day. But by the time I got to the middle of the afternoon my body was hollering enough. Enough.

As is my wont, I told my body I'm going to the office anyway and to suck it up. I went to the washroom. By the time I went to put on my shoes, the room was spinning a bit and the tiredness yelled at me again for attention. I admitted ok. Ok I'm going to bed. I slipped off my shoes and went to bed and slept for 2-3 hours.

I've been journalling about this a lot lately because its becoming more and more my life. Tuesday I slept for 2-3 hours and Monday about 1-2. Sunday was somewhere from 1-3 hours.  I'm just so tired and the things I do and the stress I experience add to my need to rest myself Thank God the church is good with it, now If I could only be. 

So when I saw that T-shirt facing me this morning I grumbled, and I murmured all right already all right. 

Father, forgive me.

Being Introduced and Catching Up

This week I am on vacation and heading to Winnipeg to get Lauralea. She's been there for three weeks helping and getting to know the latest grandchildren, twin boys.

It's a two day trip so on the first night I caught up with this granddaughter. 

Then on to the boys.

 

Next to come, the rest of the granddaughters.

A fun trip.

Of Birds and Bees

The bees are buzzing here today and maybe that means plums on this tree for the first time ever.

Lauralea and I have been on the road for a bit over a week. Catching up on the closer kids, and relatives.  It took me about ten days to be ready to want to come home, and its so good to be home now.

Been trying to process life and health and my brain and where is God it it and what does He ask of me. It's a bit hard to focus and to remember. To think through things and to refocus.  May be med related as well.

I think it all kinda goes hand in hand with mail that was waiting for Lauralea when we got home. There was a letter from our bank ready to give us a completely free bank account now that she's entered her sixtieth year. (59)

Then the next letter was from the government asking her to start to consider if she would like to start receiving her old age pension at the age of 60 or to wait for more when she turns 65. 

That blew us away you know.  I mean made us a little freaky. There are deadlines now, and that's if the health continues to hold up. 

But it is good to be home, even as spring is breaking in this part of the world.

The birds and the bees are happy. But why wouldn't they be.

Covid

Well, it's our turn I guess.

Covid finally showed up at our house, with Lauralea a day ahead of me.

It has really kicked us in the pants. It’s been a tough 10 days. 

At first it felt like a really bad flu, but the weakness and tiredness just lingers on and on. And just when you think you’re past it and maybe you are back, it hits again and you go back to bed.

#Notfun

Growing up

The town where my grandparents lived.

These days have made me reflect a good deal on my roots and how my relatives faced challenges in life. I think I am looking for ways to age well.

Certainly my experience as a child seeing them in life, were with the eyes of a child. I was blissfully unaware of more adult experiences of truth in their lives. So I don't have that, mostly for the good I believe. Still it leaves me grasping for how to age well. 

I had a realization a while back that one of the persons in the bible I could identify with deeply was the young man Timothy. He seemed about my age and experience level. He seemed to have some insecurities that I could identify with, which was also a comfort to me in ministry. And so as I moved into this life, he was my hero, my good example.

Lately I realized that I have still considered him in that same place where he's been all my life. As my example and hero as a young man pastor. 

Then something happened to me, someone identified me as a Paul in their life, and really that just sort of stunned me. It caused me to realize that I'm not that young man pastor any longer. I'm not still back there with the insecurities and fears of a young pastor failing at the work.  

Here I am still identifying as a Timothy when I should or could identify more as a Paul. It might seem like a nothing deal to you, but for me it has been so completely a shift in my thoughts. It's a better fit, as Paul has faced so many of the things I have faced. And his example and words have more and more been a good help to me.

So at least I am growing but dang how long did that take? How long was my self perception off a bit? I wonder if there are other areas I need to "Grow up" in.

But as I say, at least I'm growing up.

Smiles

I am in fairly intense meetings this week where there is tension and certainly some level of disagreement. I am responsible for gathering and taking notes for these meetings to capture the sense of it all and the words spoken. So it's hard work. 

But I turn on my computer and see these faces on my screen background and my heart smiles. So they are present in a way, reminding me of better things in life.

 

The Cup Seems Half Empty Today

It’s funny how sitting at my desk working feverishly trying to get things done, and an old song comes on the radio and I’m filled with melancholy. (I should clarify that I have Christmas music playing on my radio so you know most of the songs are filled with memories anyway.)

It has been such a stressful season of life. People are less and less able to keep their frustrations and emotions under control. It’s just the stress of the time, and what it’s doing to our families and marriages and communities. I greatly fear what will happen to the morale of the general population if they are told they can’t celebrate Christmas with their Christmas traditions.

I’ve been living too long unable to catch up. I simplify and simplify as much as I can the work that I do, and it’s not enough. I wonder if we’re trying to do the old ministries in new ways, rather than just adjusting and doing new ministries in new ways. Whatever is going on beneath the surface, I am just, tired.

So a song comes on the radio that our children used to sing and I look over to my left where the pictures are on the shelf. I see the children, from babies through to adults, and I am so pleased with them. But I miss them, and I miss those simpler days. I don’t know how to get back there, and I suppose in that way, I am a little bit lost.

I know it’s been the year, and it’s absolutely been the stress and the work hours, I know it’s all that. I know that it looks like nobody will be home for Christmas. I know that Advent won’t be the same, I know that there won’t be the normal singing of the carols. I know I won’t see friends I normally see in church week by week.

I know all that, but suddenly it catches up to me, the emotion the sense of loss, the separation. It’s all there mixed in.

But I renew my focus and I keep going because I don’t know what else to do honestly. And being miserable won’t help me one bit. You absorb the loss as much as you’re able, and you add it to your history, a collection of the things you’ve lived through.

Yes back to work, I need a sermon for Sunday, and I need to record it on video by tomorrow. God I will need your help again this week, not just for sermons but for strength and hope as well.

This is going to be a very long, very short season.

Hague Hardware Store

 

There is a hardware store in the town of my great grandparents that has been serving people for many many years. Probably served them 40, 50 years ago.

But today Lauralea and I stopped in there and took a look around. It still is classic old town hardware store.

Oh yes, nails and saw blades and a few power tools. But also dishes, table clothes, closet hardware, hooks, irons, and soap. Toys and games, puzzles and books, stoves and fridges, axes, bobby pins, thermometers, thermostats, thermoses. And women’s clothes, for town women, regular sized women actually.

We bought Lauralea a beautiful sweater, and some canning lids for her pickle jars.

It was, wonderful.

Staying Well

 I am tired now, and tomorrow I am going to stop for a while.

Stop work and stop doing and just stop. 

Next weekend is Hillary's wedding and we are going to help them get ready for the big day, and then celebrate well what that day means for Hillary and Dave and all of us. Its is going to be a great time. 

Then a few weeks vacation to try and get our footing back.

Probably return amidst a big second wave with new restrictions and all. But we shall worry about that then.

For now the trick will be to stop working and start vacationing and NOT get a cold or flu as I normally do when the adrenaline of work stops flowing through my veins.

Stay well.

 The Smiling Blue Breasted Pastor, a rare sight to see on any day.

New Theme / Old Theme

I think this is where I am landing for a bit, theme wise.

It actually reminds me a good deal of my very first blog theme. Info panel on the left, blues in colour, lots of white. Fairly simple.

Its sort of fun and embarrassing to go back and read the posts from 18 years ago. I was such a different person. The heavies of the internet were still not out there as much. Trolls were rare. Dark commenting was not happing a lot.

As an old-timer would say, they were the good old days.

Well thanks to Toni, I was able to access an older template and tweak to my hearts content. You may occasionally still see a wee bit of his handiwork in this template that I left in, sort of as homage to his good self.

Funny how some websites and blogs are oddly comforting to visit. Like old friends, their colours and voices are safe places to end up.

Anyway, what's old is new again.

Lemon Meringue Pie

Tonight Lauralea and I were invited over to a deck supper at a farm out here. The food was brought in by a chef who certainly knew his way around a smoker.

BBQ smoked ribs and chicken, beans, salads, roast potatoes, and on and on.

Then there was this lemon meringue pie. Now, for whatever reason I don’t like lemon meringue pie. I can’t remember when I stopped eating it but over the years Lauralea would try to make it and I was having none of it.

Until tonight. When what I can only describe as a mood overtook me, (it may have been from all that meat). I was in a mood to have a wee slice.

Well, it was nothing like I remember it to be. Fresh, tart and sweet, it was just good. I enjoyed it.

So now I have to rethink life WITH lemon meringue pie IN it. It’s almost an existential crisis trying to process this at 57. But it seems I do like it.

Now I have to work up the nerve to tell Herself. ;)

Another Day in Paradise

The skies seem to be on fire tonight as a storm passes over and the sun sets beneath the clouds. Quite a stunner tonight.

Today, our day off, was spent up in the city. The daughter lives in a city without the IKEA table legs that she needed so she asked if we could get her a few things as we’ll be seeing her in the next month. So we headed in.

We ran some errands and found a shop going out of business, which seems to be happening a lot lately around here. So we left them some money and brought home a few things for the kitchen that Lauralea was after.

I stopped in at the cell provider and wanted to check out some other plans but they were not interested in that. There are big sales on right now with all the providers for new customers. My frustration is that being a loyal customer offers me none of these deals. So I am looking at becoming a customer at another cell provider. The whole system seems to be created to draw in new numbers but not to sustain the ones you have. Even customer service tends that way. They don’t have much for call-in assistance either. That’s just me with a cranky attitude.

By the time we got home I needed a nap, badly. So I did just that. :)

Now the skies have lit up beautifully and we are sitting here listening to some good classical music radio, typing our various notes and letters on our screens.

Tomorrow begins early. So I’ll bid you good night.

Are these not the best looking buns ever?

Under the category of “ask and you shall receive,” I asked for cinnamon buns and she made them. They are beauties indeed. And taste as good as they look.

I think she’s been stepping up her cooking game lately. She’s always been a great cook and an awesome baker. She’s come a long way from her hard buns when we first were married. :)

We’ve been eating well during this forced stay at home patch. I think she’s doing it to keep up morale. It’s been flagging as of late. A sort of sadness comes and goes in waves it seems. Grieving the loss of ways of living that may never come back. Loss of travel to see kids. Loss of summer plans. Even illness of friends and acquaintances. It’s all in there.

Grief is real and maybe you are feeling it too in some unexpected ways. It’s good to just acknowledge it and let it be for a bit.

After all, what’s the saying, starve a cold, feed a pandemic?

Be safe.