Tears have been my food

I am not myself these days.  
Feels like I have trouble finding my footing every morning when I get up out of bed. Finding my equilibrium, my balance, more emotionally than physically but it's all in play. 

Psalm 42 describes my days so very well.

1 As the deer longs for streams of water, 

    so I long for you, O God.
2 I thirst for God, the living God.
    When can I go and stand before him?

3 Day and night I have only tears for food,
    while my enemies continually taunt me, saying,
    “Where is this God of yours?”

4 My heart is breaking
    as I remember how it used to be:
I walked among the crowds of worshipers,
    leading a great procession to the house of God,
singing for joy and giving thanks
    amid the sound of a great celebration!

5 Why am I discouraged?
    Why is my heart so sad?
I will put my hope in God!
    I will praise him again—
    my Savior and 6 my God!

Now I am deeply discouraged,
    but I will remember you—
even from distant Mount Hermon, the source of the Jordan,
    from the land of Mount Mizar.
7 I hear the tumult of the raging seas
    as your waves and surging tides sweep over me.

8 But each day the Lord pours his unfailing love upon me,
    and through each night I sing his songs,
    praying to God who gives me life.

For the choir director: A psalm of the descendants of Korah.

Once Upon a Sunday Morning

Today was Sunday and I was up and ready for activity early in the morning. I got dressed and started to head over into the brisk temperatures.

Honestly, I was a little bit surprised at just how beautiful the weather was this morning. So I took a walk down to the cemetery and through the backyard area where we are working the ground to get it ready for winter. 

And as I do, while I walk, I pray.

Couldn’t get over the fact that there was no snow yet and this is past mid November. Nor was it in the minus temperatures this morning. Some November mornings can be in the -20s and -30s Celsius. So there was no complaints coming from my lips today.

The sun was coming up and it was looking glorious, burning off the frost and the fog off the ground. So I dawdled and took my time. 

I would have to say that this year my understanding of God and my time with him has certainly been growing.  Even at this ripe old age of 61, #eyeroll it feels like I’m just starting to understand some of God‘s love for me, and for us as his children. My encounters with Jesus have been enjoyable and I would say more like fun than anything else. There is a growing familiarity there that allows me to relax into his presence. Yet still, there is a sense that when it’s time to work, we get to work.  

I am loving our times together and our conversations.  It’s worth every moment I get to spend with him.

Anyway, my time was done and I had to go inside where the kids were already practicing some songs for the upcoming advent season. I guess that’s next up on the calendar.

Stillness

 

For me, this is true. 

Today you can read German, even if you don't understand it. #crazytech

Because my family history is Mennonite and their main language was German, (or more specifically it's a dialect called low german) there are a number of good old german books in my library. They came from both sides of my family history.

(Side note, my family history came from Stebbendorf, West Prussia. Then they were invited by Catherine the Great to what at that time was Russia, what is today known as Zaporizhzhia. Yes, that Zaporizhzhia.)

...Anywayyyyyy...

Today I was looking at a german book on my shelf and I wanted to see what it was about, so I pulled out my google translator app. My oh my how this technology has grown in such a short time.

Translated from the book, “Touching events and remarkable prayer experiences”

Death just a sleep. 

Mrs Mattie Campbell recounts the blessed death of her sister which occurred last May. Although spiritually dead for a long time in her life, just before her death, by the grace of God, such a change came over her that she passed away peacefully. Mrs

Campbell tells: At Sunday school this afternoon I suddenly got the message: Emma is dying, hurry up, "if you want to see her alive again!" My poor sister! We had played together in youth, yes we had dreamed of future happiness together! Of a future where anything but sorrow and misery would get in our way. She was healthy and rosy, full of cheerfulness and lust that not even the seriousness of life could drive away. I had overwhelmed her, healthy and well, only five days ago. But, alas, just in the hour when one does not suspect it, death rages! On the way to her we met the family doctor, his serious expression showed us that there was no hope. May she live until evening," he said. We hurried on and my prayer and supplication was: "D, dear Father in heaven, just let me talk to her so that I can find out how her soul is doing!" The poor mother greeted me at the door with tears in her eyes. Ask her how her soul is!" she said, through sobs. I entered the room and saw many friends. I laid my hand on the old, damp forehead of the dying sister. She knew me and said to me, in her old, friendly way. I slowly and softly began to sing the song that we

used to sing together so often: Jesus Is my confidence." Anxiously, I watched every feature of her rapidly changing face. A blissful, peaceful smile showed that she understood the words. I bent over her and she whispered, God has always been good to us, dear sister. He has always comforted me in my illness." D, how I thanked God, in my heart and my lips cried out: God be praised!" She knew she was going to die, and spoke of the long sweet sleep she would sleep until the Day of Resurrection. She firmly believed that. She called the friends and acquaintances present and asked them in earnest words to meet her in heaven with her families who were entrusted to her care. So she lay still and content and awaited the laid slumber that only the laid trumpet will one day disturb. "Listen!" she called softly, I hear heavenly music! don't you hear me too? and I see a door in front of me!" - Is the door open?" asked the mother. We all listened. Yes, it's wide open?" - "Can you see inside?" Her face beamed as she answered: Yes, I can see inside, it's a beautiful place; it is heaven. - I see shapes of people, in white clothes, many, yes, a large crowd! And then she said, "D, there's Papa too!" then after a while she gave exact decrees about her burial. After she had said goodbye to everyone, she called out: "Come on, oh Lord, I'm ready now! Come and take my spirit - it hurts me so much!"- She closed her eyes and lips and in a few moments, it was hers soul entered through the open door of heaven. I led the weeping mother, the only thing I had left from my youth, out of the room where I died."

-Earnest Christian.

“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. 

Living Life

The medical system has come to be a big part of my life these years. The meds I take allow me to eat and allow me to pee. They diminish the size of stones my kidneys make and they diminish the amount of acid my body produces so that gout pain doesn’t come around as often. 

Then there are pills to help with my diminished enzyme amounts which was what my dad struggled with until he passed away. His lungs and liver stopped working.

Then over all these things or maybe as a result of these chronic things, there are some meds I take to help with my mental health.

Without the medical system I’d expect to be dead already a couple of times over. 

The quality of life that is mine because of these interventions is remarkable. Miraculous even. At least I count them so.

It’s easy for me to act like everything is good most of the time. But when there are hickups and I end up at the Doctors office, I remember how good my life is. 

Thanks to modern science and a God who loves me.  

😊

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.

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.

It's hard but its good too

I take a few moments to stumble into the past of this blog of mine and I realize that through the years of life there have been times of great strength and times of weakness. I often remember the times of weakness, not so much the times of strength.

I am in a weak place right now. 

I find myself struggling with hopelessness, feeling worthless, and pessimistic. I am becoming forgetful, not able to manage much on my plate, I have difficulty concentrating, remembering, and making decisions. 

The part that effects Lauralea is my feeling bothered, or annoyed, or angry. The mood changes, anger, aggressiveness and irritability. The part I hate is the loss of interest in things I once enjoyed, and this overarching sadness that never goes away.

So I am trying to own what the Doctor told me two weeks ago. Severe clinical depression.

Interesting how I fight that. But how glad am I that I am not going crazy or aging out of life. 

There are good reasons for this as the doctor told me. And we will take steps to get healthy again. But it's not a quick fix. I am doing all the right things, seeing my Doctor, and meeting with my therapist and spiritual director etc. etc.

The good doctor asked me if my faith in God had suffered through this time and I told him that to the contrary I had found that to be a source of strength and hope in my life, which he was pleased about.

I know that many others are experiencing this same thing in these times. It is difficult and all consuming. I get it. 

For me it's the action of a caring God that I see daily. It is not that He has taken this away from me, but He sure is blessing the small limited things I have to offer this community. I told Lauralea yesterday that in this time of feeling so unable and broken, there is such amazing work going on here that God is doing.

It's hard, but it's good too. 

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.

The Land

It think I mentioned it in my daily prayers video the other day, this connection with the land that I feel somewhere deep inside. It comes out when I drive across the prairies and it shows itself strong when I am standing at an open grave on a cold overcast winters day. 

My family came to this prairie place in 1875 and were put into reserves. They were farmers and school teachers, and pastors it seems. But they made their way in rural settings, always living close to the land.  I feel a connection with them when I think of the prairies and whenever we have some bad weather days.

But I have been learning more with those who were here before then. The First Nations, natives, had such a strong connection with the land. It fed them and cared for them long before the Europeans ever came. They created treaty's with the growing numbers of people of Europeans, to help keep some of that connection with the land and to figure out how to live together in the blessed spaces. It's not all a clean history that is certain, and there is much to own in our history. But that sense of connection to the land is a shared value. 

It seems even more real these days when I remember that in 1875 there was no more room for many families, including mine, in the Southeastern part of Ukraine where they came from over a hundred and forty seven years ago.

Anyway, all this has been stirring in me more with these passing years. 

I realize that all our kids are blessed enough to own land on the prairies. When I see pictures of Johanna and Nate's little farm there in Saskatchewan and the seasons change, it stirs in me. It is raw and not built up. People have been walking or riding over that land for hundreds and thousands of years, and thats just a cool thing.

The history on these prairies goes way back. The arrowhead I have from this land reminds me that this was here a long time before me and will be here a long time after. That is if we don't blow it all up or God calls a break.

Just owning some of my feelings I guess.

Carry on.

 

 

 

 

 

On The Edge

This is what the edge of a new year looks like. It’s also what -34C looks like here in this place.

I’m not sure I can trust that it’s enough just to hope it will be a better year. I NEED a better year.

There is a sliver of light there, a wee sliver of hope. That’s what I thought of when I saw this view. God is giving me a sliver of hope for next year. Too much would overwhelm me, but a sliver of hope? I can maybe receive that for now.

For now it’s a statement that I can hang on to. And for now, that’s all I need.

It is enough.

Limping Along

We are tying the knot this weekend on a long and difficult year. It has challenged me and I think changed me in ways I don’t even know yet.

What I do know is that I now find it difficult to face conflict. There is a sadness to life and an bit of impatience day by day. Then there are the dreams, nightmares I suppose. They continue to wake me. I know that these are all symptoms of the problem. The problem of 2021.

To be sure, I continue to work on it, the problem that is. But I'm not sure yet if it is fixable. For many it isn't. Barna Research found:

“While studying the well-being of pastors, Barna Research found that 38 percent of pastors want to quit compared with 29 percent in January of 2021.”

Makes perfect sense with what I’ve been hearing out there, and what I’ve been experiencing myself.

A bit of a catch up

I woke up this morning in a good place. A lighter mood then I have known for a long time.

The weeks have slowed down recently. It’s like one day it’s Tuesday and then it’s Thursday but it feels like two weeks have been lived in that time. I think it’s because there is so much that I face, process, and experience with each new day.

Time continues to be a funny thing to me. It's flexible yet hard and fast. You get 24 hours to spend however you like, on whatever you like. But only 24 hours in each day. And we are only promised today, tomorrow isn’t ours to have, yet.

So what will I do with today.

I can worry, I can wonder. Or, as it has been for so much of the past months, my mind can be in a state of trauma and I can be considering fight or flight all day long. All. Day. Long.

There certainly have been some days and weeks which have been mostly free from that feeling, and days when I have processed it enough to enjoy the day in some sense of not having that thing be front and center in my mind. But then something will happen to take me right back there. And time is lost, again.

I am a pastor and I have been trained in many disciplines. People like to think I have many answers to many things, but at the end of the day, there are rarely any quick fixes to the broken human being. Time, patience, and engaging with ourselves and with trusted others are good places to begin when seeking health. And I am on that way.

That’s the way I’ve been on this past seven months.

There are many new things I am learning along this way, most of which I don’t want to learn. But for the first time in a long time, I can see a glimmer of light in the darkness. We just need to press in or hang on or whatever that is as we wait for the light to reach us completely.

Who am I

Identity is something that is sort of imprinted in us by our DNA but we are also shaped by our surroundings. My DNA testing kit tells me one thing, but my mom, siblings, friends, spouse, and children have another part of the story to tell.

Boy that seemed to go deep kinda fast there, for Pete's sake, (apologies to Pete.) 

I am doing some internal processing of my identity, checking my present understanding of myself with my previous understanding. What to change, what to keep. Or better yet, what I like and what I may be wise to toss out, if I can toss.

Actually the point of this post was that I downloaded the Snapchat app. (See what I mean about going deep quickly?)

I downloaded the app for some of the fun with the filters and yeah, I had fun.

This one was called the Hipster Look Lens. 

Umm yeah, or I look like that guy from The Oak Ridge Boys. Either way, it's a stretch for me. If Covid has taught me anything its that I like my hair short.

This one is more of a sixties rock band manager look.

I appreciate what its trying to say, yeah baby, and my hair is grey enough. But it's the problem I always have wearing shades.  I already wear glasses and how cool do those people look who wear sunglasses over their prescription glasses?

Yeah, you know it.

So then I though what about clearing the land up there on top?

It's kind of what my brother, my younger brother I hasten to add, has to do. And it's kind of where my friend Toni is headed, at least it seems. So it's a look some of my best friends and family are sporting.

But alas I have been blessed with locks of hair. I expect I'll be ok with the receding hairline, and it will speed up my morning ablutions considerably, but why rush it.

So I land here. An older version of myself.

A few more pronounced wrinkles, probably more ear hair. Certainly whiter, which my barber Moe tells me we are moving quickly towards these days.

Mom says I look like my great grandfather, which I'm ok with certainly. He was a good looking fellow and in the photos I have from the sixties he's wearing a narrow tie, the style back then. (Yay grandpa)

I do kinda like this version of myself.  

Now, I understand that this is all on the outside, but if I can just keep the inside gentle and at some sense of peace, if I can not get bitter and angry in there, if I can age well in my spirit, I stand a chance of pulling this look off.

Or failing that, I can fight aging and go with the darker, hipster look.

That's where I've been anyway.

Morning.

Actually, that's a glimpse of a sunset, but you get my drift.

It's been really very dark around here for a while. I've been mostly keeping my head above the water, coping, trying to manage the details of life. But it hasn't been easy at all.

The new pressures of the work, the expectations and demands. And the dramatic decrease in the patience of people. The insistence by some to prop up a version of church that really is an empty shell. Is it for appearances sake? Or is it because that is all they know church to look like? The grace we used to offer one another has largely disappeared between some.

Then there are my own insecurities. My own fears and hurts, my own pain. The losses we've experienced ourselves in the past year of Covid. They are all there because I am who I am.

About a week ago out of left field it all came to a head, and its been darker than dark. Like dark dark. Since then its been one day is ok and the next isn't. This half of the day I can focus and the next I can't. It's been pretty bad.

I have been taking good steps though, to find the way through. Walking as I can when the physical pain is too much. Catching up on sleep, and eating again, mostly, (but don't ask herself.)  I've been seeing my Counsellor and sharing with others in my line of work who care and speak truth into my darkness.  I've got people who know how to pray praying for me, for us. I've got people I can be brutally honest with, thank God. There have been friends checking up on me and I've got Lauralea who's been in it all along with me.

I have been managing until last week and now looking back I can see that I have been limping a long, long  time. 

Today is a good day and the sun is up and the sky is blue. I don't know what tomorrow will hold but I'll just try to be present to this day now.

That's where I've been anyway.

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.

Like Eggs With That?

This morning I had to take the car in for servicing and across the street is a diner that makes a good breakfast. I often meet people there for work, but today it was just for me.

I’m trying to live into my short vacation as fully as I can, as quickly as I can. And breakfast was a part of that.

I’m doing some things that give me energy again. Some writing, a bit of drawing, nothing great really. But creative things that energize me. I might even take a short online art class. Crazy I know.

These months have been amazing, I should be an utter basket case already. The weekly pressures of trying to maintain ministry and care for a community has brought with it unexpected pressures. But the strength God gives has been greater. That’s the only answer I have.

I know some churches won’t make it through this time and some pastors won’t make it through either without big changes. But perhaps that’s one good thing to happen through this time.

How are pastors and churches doing what they do? What needs to change? What should remain? Oh there are interesting days ahead indeed.

Anyway for now, straight ahead into seven needed days off.

It's safe to say...

We have been having a great couple of days. :)

Granddaughters just continue to be the best thing ever.

Last day with this little one around and we sure are going to miss her tomorrow as she heads off with her mom and dad. But it has been a delight to get to know who she is becoming more and more as her personality starts to come out.

Funny (interesting) how my work day was dealing with considerably heavy situations and that's how I came home. But one smile from her little unsuspecting face and my mood was lifted.

I could use her around here just to smile.
But for now the thousand photos I’ve taken will have to do.

Two Years Ago Tonight

Today I was doing a hospital visit with one of our gals who got a new hip. Walking to her room I own all the memories, or maybe I should say all the feelings I have for this place.

It was two years ago tonight that would be a considerably dark time for Lauralea and I. She had rushed me in when I developed a fever after minor day surgery. While I got sicker and sicker, the Doctors worked furiously to find out what the infection might be, so they could treat it.

That night I moved from shivering cold to burning hot. I was in and out of a daze all night and the kind nurses worked with such care to try to help me get through that terrible night.

I recall in the haze the doctor standing beside me saying how sick I was. He wanted me to understand how bad it was. Seriously. Quite bad. Later he told me he wasn’t sure I’d make the night.

The next morning they still didn’t have the bacteria identified but something needed to be done. Between the doctors and the pharmacists they concocted an antibiotic soup to have the best chance to get at the infection.

By noon they began pumping it into my veins and by late afternoon I took a turn for the better.

Oh my it was good to slow the shaking, and eventually to stop sweating. For days the things I saw whenever I closed my eyes were just amazing.

I was in for ten days, and there were setbacks but eventually they let me go home. It was six weeks before they would let me work again. It was pretty sobering certainly for us, but I remember it was for the doctors too.

I learned that I am expendable. That even though I have a lot invested in me, the number of my days could be completed at any time. It was properly humbling.

I learned that my mind and spirit are amazing. The things I saw when my eyes were closed were better and more creative than any 4K screen.

I learned that adult pull-ups are just the best things ever, when you’re so sick you can’t get to the washroom.

I experienced how kind, gracious and good the nursing staff is. I recall one nurse sitting beside my bed brushing her hand across my face and hair as I lay shaking in such pain.

I learned new things about Lauralea and our family. (that dark humour is still humour, and our family is particularly good at it. :) About our church family and being a pastor in such a vulnerable state. I have many stories now. Some will probably never leave my heart.

So when I walk those halls to visit someone, I still find those feelings close to the surface.

Tonight I feel properly sober about it all. But also sort of like celebrating that it’s been two years already. Time is different now.