It’s Monday evening the 16th of November.  My world has returned to normal.  Elaine is back on the island.  Many of you know the pull of grand-mothering as a powerful thing.  We have two beautiful granddaughters in Fredericton and occasionally Elaine is called to spend a few days doing what seems to come so natural to her.

Earlier today I edited Harley’s video from yesterday’s service.  It was a pleasure going through the presentation again.  I was reminded of how ready young people seem to be to respond to a call of their own, one that is equally as powerful as grand-mothering.  You can call it whatever you might but that responsiveness is inspirational to me.  I was reminded of it again during the Remembrance Day service at the high school.  So many who went off to war were very young people with full lives to live and yet they laid it all on the line for a cause that was bigger than they were.  Wow … just, WOW!

Jesus stirred that passion in people as well.  Young fishermen walked away from their livelihood.  They left their traps (nets) and followed him.  His call, … “If any man would come after me let him deny himself, take up his cross and follow me.”  Jesus would have been a breath of fresh air in the stagnant, closed religious system of the day.  He was a legitimate miracle worker.  You never knew what might happen when you followed Jesus, as a groupie or an apprentice.

All that was exciting but the other part was terrifying … self-denial and even self-sacrifice.  That’s what crosses conjured in jesus’ day … images of brutal dehumanizing death.  Still they followed.

So going to India is no big deal to someone who has a reason to go.  It would have to be people and their desperate circumstance, the belief that one person can be a difference and in turn make one.  Thanks Harley, for the reminder.

There were 22 kids there yesterday and several workers who went home very tired.  They wanted to be where they were yesterday as well.  People like Gayla, Carolyn, Kirby, Margaret and other invisible servants who do this week after week.  Thank you for your faithfulness and your love for children … most of all for your love for God demonstrated in your investment in these young lives.  (Rosalie … thanks for filling in yesterday as well.  If I missed anyone I am so sorry.)

Glenn … thanks for shooting the video and running sound … really.

Jon … thanks for leading us in worship … your own style … your own way … your own heart.  The Christmas carols were appreciated by all those waiting for the season to break into high gear.  You chose those songs because you knew that someone could be helped to worship by hearing them and singing along.  You likely wouldn’t have chosen them except to try to minister.  I appreciate that desire to serve.

I was at the Shoebox Service last night, accidentally on time.  A confession … I posted the wrong time for the service.  My mother and I entered a couple minutes past six o’clock and things had just started.  Heather B came 20 minutes early and was 10 minutes late.  I prayed, “Lord please don’t let any other Lifers come and find themselves late.”  I really did pray that.  And then 5 minutes early and 25 minutes late, along came Glenn and Margaret.  I tried my best to apologize later.

I finished the day with a soul glow.  I am not totally sure why.  Just the belief that in some way, God was pleased yesterday.  I want it to be like that every day in the magnificent or the mundane.

Just a note to say “Thanks” for understanding my need to get my mother to they specialist.  I was so touched by the comments on the Facebook page.  Truthfully, before seeing these, I was feeling a bit guilty to take time away from my responsibilities to do this.  I was gratefully reminded of your heart of compassion today.  It blessed my soul.  I am not used to seeing this kind of thing in my past ministry experience.  Perhaps some of it is my own issue.  I want people to know that my heart is consumed in this church family.

The change of plans however was changed again.  The 7:30a ferry did not make the trip today so I am on island after all.

Blessings on you all today …

I knew an incredible cast of characters in my “growing up” years. (Not sure I am out of them yet.)  Most anyone from the Grand Manan of my day would know each and every one of them.  The best way that I can describe my childhood to initiated island folk is to say that I had a Huckleberry Finn/Tom Sawyer experience.  I think we were poor but I am not 100% sure. Even if we were not, there was nothing that money could have added to our lives.

Rupert was a major player in those early years.  I don’t think there were many days when the sunrise didn’t find us running and sundown reminded us that we ought to check in at home just to make sure that everyone was okay.  Sequential adventures and mishaps filled our days and the memories bring absolute delight to my soul.

One of my favourite pastimes was brook fishing. I learned a life lesson on the Dock Brook.  I call it the “Law of Creek Fishing”.

It began with cutting an alder and wrapping about 25′ of fishing line around the top on one end.  We found our way to the edge of the brook, in stealth mode, careful not to cast unnecessary shadows on the water or to make loud noises that might scare the fish.  Rupert routinely laid claim to the first deep hole.  I would find the next.  Apart from an occasional, “Are you getting any bites”, it was relatively quiet. Then the twigs would begin snapping and the bushes rustling.  Rupert was looking for some better site after about 2 minutes in the first location.

My mind began to work.

If he gets too far ahead of me, he’ll catch all the big ones.  Restless …

Patience would try to advise me to stay where I was just a little longer. I was always a patient person so I would give it another 30 seconds or so. The challenge now was to sneak past Rupert so as not to interrupt his attempt to pull the big one out of that spot under the tree.  I was never able to do that.  At the last instant he would glance over his shoulder and note the fact that I was now upstream of him.

Barely settled in my new pool I would hear him coming less like a quiet brook fisherman and more like a spooked buck.

A few more forever seconds more in my claim.

Then it occurred to me that I could make better time walking up the brook itself than trying to navigate the heavy bush.

You know where this is going … It turned into a race up the brook and the only fish we caught were the ones that we stepped on.  But it was a beautiful boyhood memory.

The lesson for me is that life is best lived right where you are and in the race to get ahead we lose something for whatever dubious gains we might make.  What we give  away in life is tragic by times.  As a general principle, our employers get the best deal regardless of what we are paid.  That is just the way it works.  The minute they begin to doubt this life gets more difficult.  The golden goose is introduced to performance quotas.

Somewhere along the way we forget that we are the commodity and we begin to behave as dependents on those that we serve.  Once that happens, we lose, regardless of what we gain.  We lose our heart and souls when life becomes little more than an exchange of labor for pay checks.  We stop believing in ourselves and even more we lose sight of the fact that God has created each of us uniquely, to live … uniquely.

What are your passions?  What would you do in life if money were not a factor?  What are the things that you always find time for?  What makes you sing or dance?  What grieves you most deeply? Somewhere in the midst of these kinds of questions is the thing that your life ought to be most about.  And it is always possible … rarely easy … perhaps not always something that may bring riches … but always possible.

You get to keep your soul when you pursue the things that matter.  You get to enjoy loved ones when you pursue the most important things.

Lily Tomlin said, “The problem with the rat race is that if you win, you are still a rat.”

Jesus said, “What shall it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul.” As Lifers, lets give ourselves to the things that matter … I think we are on that track.  Be patient. Isaiah 40:31

Last night at Roundtable, we talked about an Induction Service.  This kind of service is often held when a church calls a new pastor and they are officially installed.  These services can be very formal.  Because I believe strongly that “we” are the Church and that a pastor’s role is no more or less important than the part that every other person plays, my “bent’ is toward a less formal, more celebrative gathering.

Someone suggested that I check with my brother to see if he might be available.  I had also wanted my friend/brother/boss, Dr. Bill Morrison, to be a part of this service.  I called them both today and we have settled on the first date that worked for both of them.  November 29th will be the designated Sunday.  Bim will sing that morning and Bill will preach.  That evening, Bim will bring us a concert at the church .  His son, Tayson will be with him.  They are doing a November tour through  Nova Scotia, primarily.

Spread the word for what promises to be a great Sunday at CLC.