Lawyers are people too.

Well, today I got to meet the guy who leaves some profound comments on Marc Vandersluys blog. His name is Andrew.

Andrew is from Summerland BC, where he does a Lawyering gig, but he's in town for a bit this week. We met over lunch today.

His claim to fame? Well he's done time in Dawson Creek, BC, and we all know what that means. (You don't? Then ask me when you see me, or ask Logan who has done time there himself this summer . . .  but I digress)

His other claim to fame? He's Marc's brother.

You know, if I had a brother who was a lawyer, I might be tempted to live life more on the edge knowing that my brother could probably help me keep out of jail.

 

Or maybe that's what Dixie is doing.

Lauralea is on a first name basis with the Salvation Army pickup men

Lauralea is a clearing out machine these days.

I'm not altogether sure what's going on in her head, but she's tackling all the dark spaces in our home like a woman on a mission from God.

First we cleared out our bedroom. Then we did the front closet. Then she went at our bedroom closet, and the basement laundry/storage/workshop/junk room.

Yesterday she went at the family room a bit. Today it was the kitchen shelf.

She seems to be lightening the load a bit, seeking to live lighter. Or like she offered, maybe she's getting ready to be done here, like on earth.

I hope not. I'm liking this version of Lauralea more and more.

Another one enters the kingdom ...of blogging

Well, welcome one Ron Baker to the Blogging fold.
Ron used to be on staff at the Alliance church here in Prince Albert. He was also a part of the small pastor's group I am a part of.

Now he's pastoring an Alliance church down in Kindersley. And, he's blogging.

He's a good storyteller and passionate about the Church.
Check him out.

On Call pastor

I got called into the hospital in the middle of the night so I hastily got dressed and drove down there. I was greeted by four women surrounding the bed of a 62 year old man whose body was racked with cancer.

They had asked for me to come and "Say a prayer."

I asked them about him. Who he was, what he loved and liked. Where he grew up and who he had become. They told stories and expressed their love for him through those questions. It was a good time.

I read two Psalms and asked if I could pray, which they were eager for me to do.

I was not sure of his relationship with God, so I prayed a simple prayer of thanksgiving and blessing. And as I prayed, his heaving chest became still and his spirit went on ahead to the things to follow.

It's always a holy moment, at least for me, when that transition happens. And I was glad I had the chance to share it with them.