Home Again

To be back in your own bed and the sense of home after a travel time – is not easy to write about. “Lord, I am so thankful for the place you have given me.”

Mover Problems…
Things don’t always go as you plan however. Ever had that happen to you? There is always a weak link – or even a broken one. The move of my mom from Saskatchewan was to be as smooth as butter… well it didn’t happen that way. It seems that the all of my mother’s things arrived in Peterborough from Regina three days ago – to a warehouse of the moving company – and they will stay there for a while because the mover doesn’t have the ‘man power’ to move it about six blocks to our home. I was told that it may arrive at our home somewhere up to six days from now…!

My words were careful but my thoughts were black. Sure charge me big money for poor service – and see if I don’t tell “who not to use to move your stuff”.

We are now waiting…

Hitting the Ground Running…
Last evening I was in Prison again – meeting with men with far bigger problems than mine. It kind of adds a new perspective to what you are immediately going through. The ‘move problems’ I have are not nearly so big compared to theirs.

I arrived at the Prison gate on time but was held up as the gate person searched the sheets she had on who and who cannot get into jail. I had given one group’s name I was to meet with – while my name was on another group’s list. The management knew I was coming into the prison for both but felt that the one list was enough.

When I finally got inside to see the guys… my opening comment to about 20 of the guys around me was, “You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get into jail!” Funny… everyone laughed… then one dude said, “Talk to me… I can give you a real fast way to get inside and even stay for a while…!” With that about 35 guys laughed long and loud.

My Mom is Amazing…
I have referred on this blog to the fact that my mother is much like her own grandmother and even great grandmother. They made a major moves in their lifetime in their old age. My mom is now 86. She is a little slower – but young at heart. In the photo she is reading a Web Site – and learning to work a mouse at the same time.

Hey Mom – I AM PROUD OF YOU! You are taking giant leaps each day.

When she heard from a friend in Saskatchewan that it was snowing hard and warnings for travel were out… she looked outside and stated, “I am glad that I am here.” The grass is turning green here, rain will likely come again later today… but it could there also be snow someday… (it IS Canada…).

When mom saw that her son was frustrated with the mover not doing what he should – she told me that it was okay – “I can sleep on the other bed”.

* * * * * * * *
Hey - I am home again… and it feels so good!

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Vacation Day 15 – Where the Sidewalk Ends

Yesterday I stood where the sidewalk ends. I first stood at this site about 57 years ago. This was likely to be my last time to do it again.

It was an ominous moment in my life that I wasn’t expecting – yet I had planned for this little visit for months now. I saved this adventure for the last days of this vacation.

In the last century…
In 1950 our small family had moved to Regina from Milestone, Saskatchewan. Prior to that, we had lived in Lang, a small town a few miles further southeast of Milestone. In the 1950 we didn’t have much. There was no car, nor bicycles – only the goodness of a relative or a neighbour that pitched in to help you move or go somewhere. I was 6 years old at the time – just about to begin school. I think we actually had a car when we moved to Regina but my dad sold or traded it to get down payment on the house we needed. He then bought a bicycle that would take him to and from work.

Where the sidewalk ends is actually 1422 Elliott Street, in a rough neighbourhood of Regina. It was rough when we lived there and it is even rougher now. In 1950 it was filled with families that were immigrants and the poor. We were not immigrants from the Ukraine or Rumania – but for sure we were poor in the ‘post war era’. Having moved from the rural areas of Saskatchewan we were starting out like every one else. There were lots of poor families in our community mixed with the new people that spoke ‘funny’. But none of us knew we were poor nor did we know that people spoke ‘funny’. The kids were all the same. It was the parents that were a little different from each other – but no one cared.

My best friend Barry and his brother Eddy lived across the street. Their mom had a funny accent in that she was a war bride from England. Their dad had been a soldier in the war. (As a sideline to this story, Barry and Eddy’s dad is buried directly across from my father at the Riverside Cemetery.)

In 1950 the streets were not paved. There was no running water. Water was available one block away and had to be carried down the sidewalk in two pails at a time. On rainy days and in the spring time the roads were impassable. The ruts we filled with water and made great places to float a war ship.

In the wet season the Milk Wagon wouldn’t venture to the end of the street to our house, as it was too hard for the horse to pull the wagon through the sticky muck. The milkman walked that distance with the glass bottles clanging in his carrier.

To the north of the house was an open field and to the east of that the field led to an open prairie that ran along side the railway tracks. It was without a doubt the place that all adventures started. A boy could walk forever from the end of the sidewalk.

Yesterday…
As I approached the house from the end of the sidewalk something was different. There was no sign of life. There were some old beds in the front yard and junk that had been expelled from the house. One bed was charred – the first sign of a fire.

As I came up the front sidewalk I could see that the door was open. I knocked but no one was home. Carefully I opened the door and stepped in. What a mess. Following the fire someone had been trying to clean the rooms – but had given up. The buckets were laying there with the rags hanging over the side. There was smear marks on the walls after attempts were made to clean the soot off. The paint now was hanging from the ceiling and large pieces were covering the floor. It has been sitting this way for a long time from the look of it all.

I couldn’t see the fire damage at first because the memories rushed back at me as I entered. This was home so long ago. That is where the Christmas tree used to sit. Over there on the right is where the first TV was carefully placed and over there was the spot where the couch was placed. Across from that couch was another one. Together they supported our family as we first watched the Ed Sullivan Show that night Elvis Presley was singing.

There was the kitchen with all the cupboard doors open. Just off the kitchen was mom and dad’s bedroom. Back in the living room the stairs led up to the kid’s bedroom. As I walked up the stairway, the bathroom was on my right, my sister’s bedroom was directly ahead and mine was on the left – at the front of the house.

As I stood there soaking in the feelings the rooms were suddenly very, very small. They didn’t seem that small when I lived there. It didn’t look that meager when it was my bedroom.

I suddenly remembered the time that dad did the renovations on the upstairs to make the bathroom. There it was the way that he had done the work those 50 plus years ago. If I am not mistaken the decorations are the same now. Prior to this washroom/bathroom we walked out to the outdoor toilet at the back of the lot – and bathed in a tub in the kitchen. Remember there was no running water on our street.

Outside I looked at the house for a long time. The street is now taken over by storage units. The lot beside our old house is now filled with old shipping pallets as is the yard around 1422. Most of the old houses on the street are now boarded up. As people leave these houses they are being torn down – and big trucks are now parked on the lots.

For a few minutes there was a twinge of sadness as I stood looking at the present. But in moments the sounds of laughter with lots of kids on our street filled my mind. I could see Barry and me hunched over the wooden sidewalks with a magnifying glass. We were burning our names on the wooden surface. To the north of the house in the open field the kids were playing baseball. Across the field others were crawling through the long grass near the railway fence. The street was still alive and so much was happening as we looked to the future…somewhere out there at the end of the sidewalk.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Click here for a “Map Quest” view of 1422 Elliott St

Vacation Day 14 – The Power of Flat

It is hard to explain the power of flat. For me it is one of the strongest pulls in my life. For my friends it doesn’t have the same tug on their lives. You see I am from the prairie and this country has a strong hold on my heart.

Last Saturday I traveled across this flat land south of Regina. It is big – very big. The sky above was absolutely clear. The land around me was dry. Spring is on its way across the prairie and all the signs are pointing to a new season again. The flat roads go forever – ending no where wherever that is…

One of the most notable little fellows that I met was Mr. Gopher. As I pulled over to take a shot of the countryside he popped out of his hole to take along look at me. He is a little prairie centurion guarding his small part of the world.

Later on as I walked through the tall grass, a gigantic, white Jack Rabbit bounced to life. He was still white in colour and very much alert to what I was doing. As he bounced off across the open field and then stopped to watch me – he stood on his hind legs with his long ears moving slightly to catch more information about me. In another field a coyote ran as fast as he could to make space between me and himself.

So many memories flooded my mind. So much of the past rushed after me as I walked the fields. There was the place below me where the ‘Little Dam’ used to be. It is a hay field now. Just to the left of it is what is left of the ‘Big Dam’ – which held more water for the farm. The excess of water that left the ‘Big Dam’ went over the spillway that allowed water to flow over it to fill the ‘Little Dam’. I remember my uncles and grandpa having to maintain the spillway so it would not wash out in the heavy rainy season. I can remember at least two times that it was completely washed out in the spring run off.

The ‘Big Dam’ is now a deeper slough but it is still providing water for the wild creatures living nearby. There as lots of animal tracks all around the water with many trails leading back to the prairie flat top.

As many of you read this – only a few will know the feelings that I have. They are feelings of pure magic. With a free Saturday all by myself – I basked in the magic- for over 14 hours alone.

I feel today as if I have been on a retreat for over six months. One day on the prairie does that for me.

Flash backs…
I have driven in downtown Toronto and searched in vain for one lowly parking spot. I have walked forever in the busy streets and had the dirty wind blow hard at me – with plastic bags swirling in the air around me.

I have lived and worked on the impossibly busy streets of Hong Kong – where everyone pushes and shoves to get on to the crowded buses. I have had people spit on the ground in front of me because it was the only free spot of cement ground to do so – there were just too many legs and people moving to find another clear space. I learned to jump the spittle when it was fired near me.

I have crawled out of the subways systems in Toronto, Hong Kong, Montreal and New York City – to mix with the masses of fellow human beings. The smell of exhaust of the trucks and cars were the first breath of fresh air that filled my lungs coming out of the subways stations. In all of these four cities there were no Gophers, no Jack Rabbits and no wild life of any kind.

Living in Hong Kong was the extreme with 7 Million people living on 400 square miles of land – that is 20 miles by 20 miles in dimensions. On Saturday I crossed over land that measured well over 4 Hong Kongs and you may have found about 20 people – if they were home that day.

Oh Lord… – these places I have lived and worked are so far from this piece of heaven that you created - Saskatchewan. How did I every think it would be more romantic in these other places? The old thoughts of my wanting to get away from this area and to leave some day – are almost comical now. But I well remember riding on that old tractor pulling a plow and thinking… “I wonder if I will ever get away from here…?” I remember dreaming of ‘somewhere’ that must be a long ways over the horizon in all directions.

The following pictures may tell the story better than my words do at this minute… I am kind of choked up on all of this prairie fresh air and all the abundant memories.

Flash Forward...
Two weeks from today I will arrive in Nairobi, Kenya... the tug to see what is at the end of the road is still there...

Thanks for praying for our family.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Surrounded by Friends

With the moving van having left on its journey to Ontario and all the stuff that we shipped – the Regina portion of this year’s holiday is almost over. Now it is a waiting period until the flight home next week – on Wednesday. What do I do with my time? Sitting still is not easy for me. Waiting can drive me nuts…

One of my friends wrote an email and stated it simply… God must have a reason and a plan for me to spend these last days in the city of Regina. She was right.

In the last two days I was able to connect with some very close and older friends. One is older in years and the other is older in friendship. I want to share a short account with you about “Grandpa Ivan”. His photo is shown here.

In 1991 Ivan came to Canada to begin his Canadian life with his wife – in Regina, Saskatchewan. Together they came to live with their daughter. You likely could not find any greater contrast in climates than from their home in Sri Lanka and to the new one in Regina. Then tragedy struck Ivan’s family. His beautiful wife of many years passed away leaving him as a widower in a strange country.

Years have passed slowly. Ivan has lost his eyesight. He has been a gifted poet over these many years but with his eyesight now gone – so has his ability to write. I had the privilege to help him assemble his poetry into a book form a few years ago.

Now Ivan has a special way of dealing with his disabilities in a short description of who he is. Ivan describes himself by the following. When he was younger he was know as ‘Ivan the Great’. In his many years working in Sri Lanka, in a management position, I believe he said that his employees knew him as ‘Ivan the Terrible’. When he moved to Canada and his wife passed away in his mind he became ‘Ivan the Miserable’.

In the years that I had of being the pastor of Southside Pentecostal Church in Regina, Ivan was one of our congregants. With his loss of sight he was confined to his daughter’s home unless someone would take the time to take him out. It was because of this inability to get out of his home on his own that we began the “Men’s Group” on a Thursday morning. I picked Ivan and another of his friends up and we went to the local mall to walk together… then after a walk we would sit and drink coffee together… tell stories… and laugh a lot. This small group of three grew to about six men meeting each week for a walk and talk time.

This may well have been the greatest ministry that God has ever given me in all my years. It was plain and simple encouragement… more for me than anyone else. Being a witness to the pure joy that these older men had with each other was a ministry to my soul. Taking the time to get out of a busy world and then enter their worlds with such a simple activity of just being with each other was wonderful. I needed this more than they did.
When I found Ivan this week in his new ‘Care Home’ that he lives in – our reunion was just wonderful! He grabbed my hand and in true Sri Lankan manner held it tightly as we talked. He kissed my hand over and over again as an expression of great joy. Tears rolled down his cheeks freely. I cried with him. Two friends that have not seen each other for 9 years now – were together again. What a meeting this was.

Ivan is 86 years old now and lonely. I pray that someone will be there for him. He cannot walk that far anymore. He is pretty much confined to this home setting now. His daughter is faithful but is not able to be there as often as she would like to be.

His new friends in the home – 3 of them – are people that he is happy with. He told me that last week one of the ‘dear sisters’ passed away at 92 years of age. Another of his friends has gone. There was a touch of loneliness in his voice as he described what happened.

I have been thinking a lot about ‘Ivan the Great’, ‘Ivan the Terrible’, ‘Ivan the Miserable’ and my ‘Ivan the Friend’. There are hundreds of Ivans in this city that need just a little encouragement. It is the same in our own city of Peterborough as well. They are hidden and alone. Who will come to see them? Who cares?

Ivan… you will not be able to read this … but again your life and words have encouraged me to take up the challenge to love and care – just a little bit more.

Ivan the Great… keep on going. I love you my brother!

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

When a Photo is Worth a Thousand Words

The tasks are almost done.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Vacation Day 10 – Marching to a Different Drum

This week, in Regina, I have been to the garbage bin behind this apartment building more than anyone. It happens when you are moving everything. There was lots of stuff that was stuck in the closets and cubby holes around the apartment that wasn’t needed anymore. Comments on the elevator by the older folks, “Are you still working at the move?”

The interesting thing is that when I put something out of any size – it is gone in about 15 minutes. I placed an old desk beside the bin – and it was gone in 10 minutes. The same happened to the old card table that was very rickety. As I came back from time to time small things would be gone as well. Over night it was even more extreme – whole garbage bags were opened and rifled through.

Last evening I met the ‘bin shopper” – this one was a woman dressed in a good winter coat and carrying white shopping bags already filled with prizes from the bins down the way. I had stopped to allow her to cross the street when I pulled the car in at about 11:00 PM. There were things from Mom’s apartment that I threw out at 6:00 PM that she was plucking from the bin. I wanted to take a photo of her but it may have caused a scene at 11:15 PM – waking some of the residents of the building.

Earlier in the day I was at the Liquor Store to get more boxes. As I approached the doors a scruffy looking man approached me. I waited for his appeal for some pocket change to get something to eat. Some of his teeth were missing and his clothes were dirty. The best way to describe him is that he appeared like the normal ‘street person’. This time however the man was inquiring if I would like to buy some food from him… I told him that I wasn’t interested.

After getting my boxes into the car I headed to the grocery store next door. There was the same man at the check out next to the one I was at. He was buying over 20 pounds of hamburger meat – just meat. He shoved an official form to the lady -it appeared to be maybe a government document of some sort. The cashier looked it over carefully and then had the man sign it. He walked away with all of his meat. I followed him to the parking lot… where another man met him. The new man gave him some money and he passed the meat over. The meat seller’s next stop was the Liquor Store next door.

The two people that I watched today disturbed my thoughts all last night.

A few years ago in Regina I watched a man approach the garbage bin with a shopping cart with a child riding inside. He stopped in front of the bin and then lifted the child into the garbage bin. The bin is deeper than a man can reach into while bending. The edge strikes you mid chest. Then he instructed the child to dig deeper through the trash. The child retrieved objects as instructed.

This is not a third world country. This is the “Queen City”, Regina, Saskatchewan. The beautiful prairie city with clean air and farming roots has trouble. Like all other communities in our country it is filled with ‘the haves’ and ‘the have nots’. The difference is great. The people I met yesterday were coming close to ‘the haves’ and were getting what they could without too much effort. The feeling of discomfort by ‘the haves’ as they tend to look away when a ‘have not’ approaches them – or simply let them riffle through their own garbage without incident.

The ‘Haves’ and the ‘Have Nots’ march to a very different drum. Their world’s are so far a apart and yet they live right next door to each other.

I guess I get used to these sights in Peterborough. The ‘have nots’ collect spare change on the streets downtown and shuffle along when someone complains. Our garbage is picked up the day that it is put on the street – not waiting for someone to riffle through it.

I am processing what I have witnessed last evening and over these past few weeks. How do I help? Why should I care? Is any problem like this my problem? Has the system I believe in failed… these folks and maybe even me? But as long as I ‘have’ – I am not a ‘have not’.

How far away is the ‘have not’? Hmmm.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

PS – The moving van has been and gone. It went well. I only forgot a few things when I didn’t open one closet… shish!

Vacation Day 9 – Wonderful Peace

I turned on the TV and turned it up loud. It is too quiet in the apartment this morning! I don’t like being alone. Yesterday my mom left on West Jet with Dana, my daughter. Now with an empty place – except for mountains of boxes – it is too quite. I discovered yesterday that I can watch TV by ‘listening’ as I work in another room… Old Black & White movies are the best.

The quietness is broken from time to time with mom’s friends trying to call her. Last week she mailed her change of address cards out and now people are calling. It is fun to talk with them all. Some I have not heard from for many, many years.

The quietness is good however… the wonderful peace that comes as I listen to it – is just simply wonderful. The Bible describes the ‘peace that passes all understanding…’. My ‘peace’ today seems to be that kind of peace. It doesn’t make sense to be all alone and then still sense a peace – but I do.

Today I am dealing with the final clean up of cupboards and storage rooms. I keep running across things that are from my family and my past. I sit down and read and sort and think… get up – get up – get going – IT HAS TO GET DONE.

Yesterday it was a turmoil or sorting I made a huge decision and simply walked the stuff out to the huge garbage bin. I placed lots in the bin. Each time I unloaded the stuff that is no longer needed - sweet peace came over me. It was motivation to go back to the 9th floor apartment and get another load.

Each time I get on the elevator to do more – mom’s friends want to talk to me. What a friendly place to live… no wonder mom liked it here. Come on get going… get going… Just a few more trips to complete it all.

There is peace – wonderful peace. And the part that is so wonderful – I am doing this work with my mom alive. I met a couple on the elevator as well. Their loved one had passed away and they were having to deal with all the stuff in a sadness that covered them completely. I am blessed – so blessed.

I can’t write more… got to get more done – today is the last day.

BTW – Dana – how can I eat any of the food in the refrigerator – you packed all the pots and pans. Necessity is the mother of invention – I did a small piece of fish in a roasting pan… and creamed corn in a cereal bowl.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Vacation Day 8 – When There Are No Flowers

As we walked over the heavy crusted snow our foot steps made small prints on the surface. It is still very much winter in the prairie graveyard – even though spring is just around the corner. The very cold wind that was biting at our ears told us clearly that it will be a while before the springtime actually arrives.

The place is Saskatchewan and my dad’s grave was just up ahead. As we walked to his graveside mom said with some deep feeling, “It has been a longtime since I put any flowers on the grave. Look at all the others that have brought flowers. I just couldn’t get out here without and car… and there was no one to bring me…”

The big lump was in my throat again. It has come back again and again this week. It leaves me without words and almost takes my breath a way. If I try to talk when its there it is very hard to not cry… and even when I try the tears well up and spill out. Tears are cold in the wind.

In May it will be 20 years since Dad passed away. Yet it seems like almost yesterday for me. For Mom it is even closer – it is yesterday.

Together we looked down and she read the words, “In memory of Mother…” and held tightly to my arm. I seemed to know her thoughts – they are my own thoughts as well… ‘We will be here together again some day…’

It was too cold to stay very long. As we walked back to the car I wished I had thought to bring flowers. There was just too much to do. When there are no flowers it is harder.

And yet there is a new happiness welling up inside me as we headed for a warm coffee shop. Dad is smiling I am sure. This is his family and he is proud of it. This is what he asked his son to do. When there are no flowers it is okay… there is family instead and it is very good.

In the coffee shop I broached the topic of the ‘end times’ with mom. Carefully I told her that I had been to visit two funeral homes locally when I was doing my around the city travels. The first one, Speer’s, that had helped conduct my Dad’s funeral and the second one, Lee’s that is part of a chain of funeral homes across North America. I told Mom that I had taken some pictures of Lee’s for my son-in-law Bruce to see as it was part of the organization that he, as a funeral director, works for.

Mom looked at her coffee for a moment and then back at me. It is not everyday that you can speak with your own mom about her death… “You know Mom, later on when you die – and it won’t likely be for a longtime… we will get a big reduction on the funeral costs because of Bruce working for this company.” She laughed with me. I continued, “If he is able to buy his own funeral business some day – the reduction may even be more…” Then we giggled again.

Though unspoken this is a concern that will be thought of a few hundred times in years to come – I am sure. At the moment it is simple reassurance that I am looking to share with Mom.

A Long Ago…
Two young people laughed and giggled their Sunday afternoons together a long time ago. This budding romance happened on the prairie – a few miles south of where were yesterday. They had a whole life time to look forward to. Yes there was a horrible war taking place across an Ocean where many were dieing. But the love that these two young people had was powerful and pure. This love would propel them together for a lifetime. It was the Spring and Summer of 1942. In October 16, 1942 they were married.

For their laughter and wonderful times together I am truly grateful… in fact because of it ‘I am’.
When there are no flowers it doesn’t matter much….

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Vacation Day 7 - Completing 57 Loving Years

Vacation Diary Entry: Day 7 – Completing 57 Loving Years

So many memories flooded into my life yesterday. This was the farewell day for my mom from Southside Pentecostal Assembly and her friends of 57 years.

57 Years ago a young family; a dad, a mom and three kids – a 6 year old boy, a 4 ½ year old daughter and a baby boy of 1 year old, came on the city bus to 2070 Broad Street in Regina to attend the new Bethel Temple Church. The bus ride was about 30 minutes long but required a 7 block walk to the bus stop and then a wait that could be 20 minutes or more.

The church had perhaps one of the best young preachers in all of Canada who helped spark the growth of the assembly in the next few years. This young preacher was Rev. H.H. Barber. Most importantly Bethel had a Sunday School that would provide the beginnings of Christian education for their family.

The young mom was Nell Lincoln and the 6 year old boy was me.

The 57 years are filled with huge memories for our family. Sunday School first with classes for everyone. Then a great morning service flowed by Sunday evening services that we came back to at 7:00 PM. That was followed by a long prayer meeting in the prayer room which was the basement of the church. The same basement of the church was the site for the Bethel Temple Crusaders – an active boy’s club conducted by two men in the church – my dad being one of the men.

The years came and went until the old Bethel was sold and the new Southside Pentecostal Assembly would be built. 20 years ago it was burned to the ground by an arsonist and the present building became the home of the Southside folks.

When mom stood to thank these wonderful folks – it was from her heart that she spoke.

I had the strong sense yesterday that with the transitions we go through are very much like reading a book – we progress one page at a time. We arrive at the next chapter after we have finished all the pages in the last one. And the thought is so powerful as we go through the book – the story just gets better.

A Long Time Ago…
About 100 years ago when my great grandfather came to Saskatchewan he went to establish his new home. He built a very large house on high point of land a few miles from what is now Truax. The house over looked the good prairie land surrounding it. In the photos it shows the old house first and then the scene out front of the house of the winding prairie ‘crick’ – a small waterway that flowed through his property that would help to water his animals. The ‘crick’ was crowded with tall prairie willows and other trees that crowed the water source.

The vast expanse of fields that would grow good grain was the drawing factor for this family long ago.

My great, great grandma on the Kirkpatrick side traveled to Saskatchewan to live with her family. As she did she left all that she had known in Iowa to begin a new life. The world she left could not be much more radical in difference as she came from rich valleys and large trees of Iowa to the new prairie setting in southern Saskatchewan.

Now my mom will do a similar thing again – the difference is that she will go from prairie to rich valleys and large trees of Ontario.

Hey mom – you are going to love it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Transitions in life are not as easy as turning the pages of a book. The story however is far more exciting as we walk through the days together.

Thanks for the prayer and the support for our family.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Vacation Day 6 - Amazing - A Family Tickle

Vacation Diary Entry: Day 6 - Regina, Saskatchewan – Amazing – A Family Tickle!

As we sat in the restaurant together yesterday I experienced a ‘family tickle’. Ever had that happen to you? We all know what a ‘tickle’ is in English I am sure. But do we know how a ‘family tickles’?

Let me explain… a ‘tickle’ is one of those strange words that carry a whole lot of meaning. In English we ‘tickle’ someone when we touch another person with the intent to make them laugh, to make them jump or to get their attention. My grandkids have come up to me to tickle me under my chin or on my neck (around my ears) to get my attention. I respond by reciprocating with a tickle back again. Our family ‘tickles’ – but not by just touching.

About 100 years ago now our family began its ‘family tickle’ in Canada. I know I don’t I have all the details absolutely right on – but they are mine and I do what I want to with them…

Our family had known the ‘family tickle’ in the United States before emigrating to Canada around the turn of the last century. The four different families that moved here brought the ‘tickle’ ability with them. It has kept them alive and growing – going on to do amazing things. I am so glad I am part of it.

When we get together in our family we laugh together. We joke together. We tell funny stories and all laugh – from deep within. Without actually touching each other a ‘family tickle’ can take place. After experiencing it you feel like a bubble is inside and wanting to get out. As I think of it now I grin from ear to ear. I am glad that I had it happen again.

The occasion that we were together yesterday was a small family reunion – just before my mom moves to Peterborough, Ontario to live with my family. My Uncle Ben and Aunt Joyce together with my Uncle Irving and Aunt Peg came to see mom. Along with Dana, Mom and myself we did what comes best in our family we ate – we laughed – we joked and told lots of stories. We always have a great time together. The last time I saw them was almost 2 years ago…but it was like we never were apart. We are a family and we enjoy a ‘family tickle’ together.

A long time ago…
I am not sure which of my grand parents came to Canada first. I don’t know this information yet and I need to know. Mom and I will have lots of time to talk. I do know that it was not easy to leave a home far away in Iowa, Illinois, and Texas. It wasn’t easy to come to a place like Saskatchewan that was so flat, so hot and so cold. I know that there were years when Grandpa Kirkpatrick and Grandpa Lincoln had a very difficult time making ends meet to support their new young families. And the one thing I know is that they all had an ability to enjoy the laughter no matter how hard it was. There were tragedies but they still pulled through.

Now the next generations have taken up what the last have done so well. We ‘tickle’ each other with our words and our lives.

I listened to my mom talk with my cousin last night. It was neat. She explained how she was going to live with Murray. Then she said the most important thing for me, “I am looking forward to this. It will be fun.”

That is what our family does best – fun. We are family –with ‘family tickles’.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Vacation Day 5 - Counting All the Joy

Vacation Diary Entry: Day 5 - Regina, Saskatchewan – Counting All the Joy!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day! One of the streams of DNA coursing through my being is that of the Kirkpatrick Clan – from my Mom’s father’s side of my present clan. Wow! I even feel green today!

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Yesterday was full again. It is fascinating what God provides for us and the way that he directs each day. Yesterday’s gifts of his provisions were simply amazing.

In my discussion with mom and in some of her accounts of her friends I learned that an old friend of hers was in the hospital in Moose Jaw – a city about 45 miles from Regina to the west. Her friend’s name is Gladys Mayo.

A few telephone calls and we discovered she was in a nursing home recovering from a broken hip. I called and Gladys informed us that she was headed within about one hour. It was 12 PM and we made the decision – Moose Jaw here we come. Mom was already in the car and away we went.

Just a little background on Gladys. The woman is an amazing minister in her own right. She lives in a small house, in a very small town, in Saskatchewan’s south west, in the heart of the prairie. She and son have also been farmers.

In the small community and the surrounding communities Gladys is known by many names… Grandma Gladys, Mother Gladys and Pastor Gladys. For many years she has provided the love and support for thousands in the rural Saskatchewan areas of southern parts of the province. If I began to tell all her story – it is a book in itself. She has been a very great support to my mom when she most needed it. Gladys is a gift from God.

Four months ago Gladys fell in her home. When she found herself on the floor she was bleeding profusely from her head wound that was caused when it met a hard wood chair on the way down. But on the way down she also twisted her left knee badly and tore many ligaments in it. As she was falling she grabbed for the refrigerator which almost came over on her so she let go. The fall continued at which time she took the telephone with her as the cord was now wrapped in her being. She hit the dining room table, chairs and finally the floor.

Being that she lives in a small house, in a very small town, in Saskatchewan’s south west, in the heart of the prairie – she needed to call someone. She dialed a number she knew and it was a friend in High River Alberta. They talked for a bit and the friend asked how she was… Gladys’ reply was. “Well I am lying on the floor and bleeding from my head…” The friend offered to call Gladys’ son who lives 10 miles away.

As she described the strange events of 4 months ago and the recovery mode that she has been in during these weeks the battle has been long and strained. Gladys laughed many times during the lively story. Gladys is not a victim – she is a victor.

I asked Gladys, “How old are you now?” Her reply was alive with a gleam in her eye, “I’ll be 89 soon… on the next birthday.”

This is a person with a ‘Merry Heart’. This Merry Heart has touched thousands upon thousands in corner of our great country. Gladys has been great medicine for everyone.

When my mom had her serious heart problems and then the bout with cancer – Gladys moved to Regina to be with her. She needed someone – so Gladys came. No charge – no strings attached.

Yesterday’s meeting was priceless for me and mom. Take a look at the photo. Does this look like the end of a life to you? Not me – for me it is the beginning of a great adventure at 89 years of age.

God give me a little bit of what Gladys has and then let me give it all away.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Vacation Day 4

Vacation Diary Entry: Day 4 - Regina, Saskatchewan – An Amazing Community of Friends

As I entered this room full of friends the laughter was bubbling. The room was a buzz with people talking – about 40 of them. These are my mom’s friends. Yesterday they planned a surprise party for mom in the recreation room on her apartment building.

Five years ago when my mom moved from her home of many years to an apartment building my sisters and I were concerned how she would do in the new environment. How would she cope on the 9th floor of a building instead the freedom of her own yard? How about her friends that were part of her life in the old community? She knew all her neighbours and their families. Losing all these people in the old community would be hard for her – at least we thought so…

Not so… with mom.

In her new apartment the folks that live here had a wonderful coffee time each morning – a real support group that was well developed. To join you bring your own coffee cup and 25 cents – then join the laughter, discussion and sometimes the wee problems that others have. This is a community that cares for each other. It is ‘Main Street’ of the old days where every one knew everyone else. It is the front porch of the older days too when everyone trusted everyone else.

Over the past 5 years I have come to know the ladies (and men) of this coffee group as mom told me stories of the events that are taking place in the lives of her friends. I have heard of the sadness of the group as one of their members dies. This week alone there were two funerals for people that lived here.

I know this is a tiny bit of gossip – but this week I heard that two of the folks that live (lived) here are planning to get married – 90 years old can you believe it! Okay. I think they are working quickly to get the paper work done. As this was discussed by some parts of the group – someone said that the lady should just move in with her beau. Others stated that because of her church connections she would be living in “sin” and she wouldn’t do that kind of thing. Then there was lots of giggling around the table.

Chopped ham on buns along with really good egg salad half buns were the lunch snack – along with lots of sweet goodies. Three of the ladies took care of serving.

I took the opportunity to thank the ladies of this community for the love and care that they show each other. I complimented them on what they do together. It is really amazing.

On the lighter side – I shared with the folks, at the party yesterday, about mom’s name change – something noticeable for her family. I first discovered the name change when Alida and I came to visit one summer… one of the ladies greeted me on the elevator and then asked, “ Are you Marion’s son?” I stared at her and said “Yes…. I think so…” When I got back to the apartment I asked my mom – who Marion was? Then she explained the story.

In the group there would be two Nell-s if she went by Nell. So mom suggested that they could use her first name – Marion. When another Marion was in the group too – someone suggested that they could call my mom – Maryanne.

I told the group yesterday that she is really called “Mom” in our family.

In the group she is known as a “friend”. This part of the move is going to be hard to duplicate for my mom in Peterborough. I have yet to find a group that is so close and that cares so much.

A BIG THANK YOU to the ladies (and men) of the Canadiana Apartment’s Coffee Group, bridge group, party group – Marion Lincoln’s other family.

A Doubly BIG THANK You to Marvin – the greatest Superintendent that son could ever have for his mother.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

BTW – Mom noted that everyone at the Party was all dressed up for her!

Vacation Day 3

Vacation Diary Entry: Day 3 - Regina, Saskatchewan – Facing the Challenges Together

We struggled to find a parking space. Even with mom’s ‘Wheel Chair Parking’ mini license plate stuck in our front window – there were not spaces. We drove a number of blocks and every where eligible for us was taken by others. The targeted area was a three square block area in the heart of the city – the Cornwall Centre and then the new government building situated right next to the other indoor mall.

Yesterday was the senior’s day in Regina… and guess what, all the seniors were out. So my mom, who is a senior, along with me, almost a senior, were out with them. We however were not there for shopping like the others were. This was the ‘paper work day’ where all the changes to the accounts at the bank and the businesses that mom had worked with all these years had to be done.

Back up…
The first stop was to renew her Photo ID card that usually accompanies her license which she no longer needs. However she does need her Photo ID of some sort to be able to board an aircraft. The new securities actions at the airport also apply to frail ladies without drivers licenses. They cannot board without Photo ID. The passport photos are many years out of date. Other older cards like the Health Insurance Card do not have this detail.

The next stop was her to see our bankers and the wonderful lady that has looked after all mom’s financial affairs for the past 5 years. What a blessing Donna S. is to our family and my mom. There will be many rewards handed out in heaven someday for people like Donna.

The next stop was lunch together. My mom and I were on a date. We laughed a lot and walked slowly together, with her arm in mine… two people having fun. Over lunch we laughed and reminded each other of other times we had sat in restaurants together – when we were both younger. One person that came up in our conversation was Uncle Neal – mom’s younger brother. The restaurant was the kind of restaurant that Neal would have taken his wife Edna and my mom to in the past. When I told mom what I was thinking about Neal we both laughed – he knew where the best places to eat were with the best prices. After my dad had passed away, Neal and Edna had been there for mom. The three of them had eaten together hundreds of times. Neal passed away 12 years ago next month.

Next – is the downtown core and the Cornwall center(mentioned above). Next stop the Drivers License department for the ID Card, then to Sears, dealing with eye glasses, and then the Federal Building to deal with CPP and Old Age Security address changes. That is a long ways to walk when walking is difficult and your legs hurt from the cramping in the morning. But my mom is something else.

We made it through the full length of the Bay department store before she said that she needed to sit down. I headed out to find a possible wheel chair in the large mall – but there was none that I could find. I walked a full city block inside but there was none…so I came back to mom, who was now rested a bit and looking for me. Together arm in arm we reached the Sears store – one and a half blocks away inside. She sat down again. There in the corner behind where mom was sitting were a row of wheel chairs – which no one was using. Question: could it be no one uses them because they are beside a door that no senior comes in? Hmm?

The Sears store is very big when you find walking difficult and the Optical Department is in the far Northeast corner of the store. Walking arm in arm is not possible when the aisles are full of displays. Add a few walkers accompanied by their seniors and you can’t walk together. While cutting through the women’s department mom headed into the racks of clothing by herself and did a short cut – here I lost her for a minute or two.

I think it was at that point that the first flash back hit me yesterday. There I was with my brother about 55 years ago darting in and out of the clothing racks as mom tried to find us. We weren’t yet lost but were having fun. It was a ball when mom took us to the big Eaton’s Store or the classy Simpson Store – we were together as a family and were having fun.

Now it was just mom and me with memories flooding from every corner of our thoughts.

From the Sears store we were facing the next leg – a one block walk up street to government building. Shish did I ever need a wheel chair to move my mom along. As we looked up the long block ahead I realized it was going to be chore for her. There are no rest stops or benches along the way. There were lots of 15 minute parking meters along the way and full Wheel Chair Parking spots – filled with a truck two and vans. Mom said, “I’m ready, let’s go.”

A guy in a car parker across the sidewalk and talking on his cell phone backed up for us – thanks. The wind of Regina’s streets picks up speed as it whips off to Manitoba. It cut deeply at mom’s collar and my ears. She grabbed my arm tighter. As we approached the entrance to government building we had slowed considerably and her arm had dropped down – her hand was now holding my hand to support her.

Flash back two – 58 06 59 years ago mom had a hold of my hand on one side and my sister on the other and we were walking in from the same street and almost the same place – to a very ancient City Hall to get our vaccination shots. I remembered the very old building and not knowing why she had brought us there. Then there is a faint memory of a needle in my arm, then crying and the following treat to walk through the Simpson store – where everything was new smelling. Mom took us on the elevator. The man with the white cloves on sat on a stool in the elevator and announced what was on each floor of the store… men’s apparel, hard wear… and then as you exited the elevator he asked you to watch your step. Mom had a tight hold on our hands to make sure she didn’t lose us. The same hand I am holding now – mine bigger and hers much smaller.

As we sat in the comfortable chairs waiting for the Federal employee to help us, mom asked, “Do you like what they have done with this? I think it is really nice now.” My thoughts were still on the needle and the man in the white lab coat the day he stuck me.

Fast Forward…
We have packed more boxes at the apartment, and finished our supper. It was time… we needed to take part in one of the more difficult things to do this week. We needed to see Aunt Edna, Neal’s wife, mom’s sister-in-law – a close friend for many, many years. They have been(not.. had been) little girls together for almost 80 years having grown up on side by side farms near Truax, Saskatchewan. She is now like mom with her kids spread across Canada and all the grandchildren and great grandchildren in Ontario and British Columbia. Edna lives in a senior’s residence and confined to a wheel chair after some serious physical losses.

For over an hour we laughed and told old stories. There are so many memories and so much to talk about – but we only had an hour. There was a long silence and then mom said, “Edna, it is getting late, I think we have to go.” Slowly mom got up from her chair and wrapped her arms around her dear friend’s shoulders and they cried together. I looked down and then walked out of the room to wait in the hallway. Two friends for so many years that may never see each other again were together.

Flash back three – was well on its way at that point and flooded me with impossible memories – far too many to write about. I can’t even see the monitor screen now for the tears that are flowing. There was Uncle Neal, strong with his sleeves rolled up riding on the tractor around the field. We were with dad, mom and Auntie Edna as we bumped across the field to bring Neal lunch on that hot day. Both ladies in their late twenties or early thirties – dressed in cotton dresses blowing in the prairie wind. My dad and mom held our hands as the big tractor chugged to a stop and Neal climbed down. Edna opened the picnic box and we all ate with Uncle Neal in the middle of rich black dirt and in the little bit of shade of the tractor wheel. The taste and the smell rushed back… Two young moms with many responsibilities in 1950 and a full life ahead with so many blessings to come…

As my daughter Dana along with mom approached the elevator doors ready to leave, we were all sniffling and wiping tears back.

Aunt Edna’s words for mom were heavy for me, “Listen to Murray, listen to Murray he will help you.” The trust of one friend for another had been given to me. Edna was trusting me to look after her best friend.

If you are a regular reader of this blog… yesterday my laughter was deep and wonderful – today I need God’s help. I am still a little boy hanging on to my mom’s hand.

Flash back four – it is 1986 in the fall and I am riding with my dad and mom in his car across Canada. It will be my last ride with them together as I helped them to travel from Ontario to Saskatchewan. I had to speak in Manitoba and needed some holidays. My wife had said, “Why don’t you go with them?” so here we were on the road together. Mom was sleeping in the back seat and I was driving. Dad was talking about all his memories. At one point he stopped and looked at me and then said, “Murray, when I am gone, someone will have to help mom. She will need help.” I listened and asked many questions assuring him that all four of us kids would do our best. I told him I would do my best too. Eight months later, on May 25th, 1987 God called dad home, and I began to help mom.

Vacation Day 4 has begun. The sun just came up and there are more boxes to pack, a few more offices to complete the address changes with and bills to pay.

Thank you for your prayer today.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Vacation Day 2

Vacation Diary Entry: Day 2 - Regina, Saskatchewan – City Travel

For the past 3 years my mom has been working her way through this city as a City Transit Rider. She began this part of her worldly adventures when she sold her car. Mom was 82 years old at the time.

The transit system of the city is very good in that the wait in between buses is as few as 10 minutes –most of the time. The only time it can be difficult is when the wait for 10 minutes is in a cold wind and the bus shelter is full of fat people smoking – when that happens small, frail older ladies stand outside with their canes and try to avoid the chilling wind on the other side of the shelter – and the smoke. 10 minutes is a long time when every one of your joints are hurting and you have osteoporosis. The frail lady is my mom and she suffers from some compression fractures.

On our first bus trip we didn’t even wait the 10 minutes – we almost missed the bus because we had to walk about one and half blocks to the bus stop – and my mom won’t run anymore! Note to Self: Next time Murray plan a little more time – and remember schedule, schedule, schedule…

The transit system can provide you humour as well. The happy people usually sit at the front of the bus along with the “funny” people and talk with the bus driver. The second stop was to pick up two aboriginal people and one non-aboriginal. The non-aboriginal greeted our bus driver as they seemed to know each other when she got on the bus. The bus driver closed the doors and then hesitated… the doors opened again… and the aboriginal man got on the bus slowly – he was drunk. The younger aboriginal lady stepped on behind him and proceeded to lecture the poor driver, “That wasn’t very nice. That wasn’t very courteous…” – because the driver had closed the doors on them. The driver explained for all of us to hear – “I am sorry miss there are other busses on this line and you didn’t move to get on the bus…” Her response again was “That wasn’t very nice.” Note to Self: To avoid any possible racial incidents – hold the doors open longer – then look at the floor when someone begins to argue about it… it isn’t my problem!

The transfer to the next bus took place at the city center near the large Victoria Park – downtown Regina. We walked about a half block to the next stop up ahead. That bus shelter had the fat people smoking and we found shelter in the lea of the shelter from the cool wind. This is where we begin meeting the “funny” people. One oversized, toothless lady beamed as she stared at me. About 50% of her teeth were missing. I looked down to avoid any eye contact… then in a few moments looked up again… she was still smiling at me – with all her toothless grin. I stepped to the side about 10 feet and she continued to look in the original direction and continued to smile. Okay? Note to Self: Regina is known as a friendly city – but there is a difference in some situations… ahem.

Mental note – ‘Downtown dogs in Regina cannot find grass to poop on – watch your step.’ The open area near the bus shelter had piles of poop – numbering around thirty five – all over the bus shelter area. Most had been stomped on accidentally in that they were all flattened. Note to Self: Look down more often – don’t look at toothless women that smile at you.

After 10 minutes of waiting I noticed a dude from the TV station shooting footage for ‘background colour’ – likely a Spring piece to be done on the local station. His new Saskatchewan Roughrider’s jacket was a dead give-a-way to his allegiance in the CFL. His shots were from a tripod pointing down one street trying to catch people strolling at lunch time in the crisp, cool, spring air – lots to shoot at this Scarth Street Mall area. Next he took his camera off the tripod and brought it close to the ground – right near the dog poop and pointed it our way catching the people walking toward him in the crisp, cool, spring air… and then back on to us… shivering in the lea of the shelter. As we climbed onto the bus he kept shooting through the bus’ front window at us. Note to Self: Toothless, Fat or whatever in Regina – keep smiling – you just might be on candid camera.

Waiting on the bus for its departure was warm and comfortable until I asked a dumb question of my mother. I simply said, “Mom, do you want to stop for your blood tests before we go home?” My daughter Dana responded, “I don’t think she can – she has to not eat before going to the lab.” I understood – no problem. But the “funny dude” that was sitting across from me on the seat – looked up and advised me that “You can’t get tests done after you have eaten something. When you go to the lab you must not have eaten anything.” I responded by looking stupidly at the TV camera still pointing at me through the front window. My new friend said it with more gusto “You can’t get tests done after you have eaten something. When you go to the lab you must not have eaten anything.” Note to Self: On public transit – don’t discuss any medical needs or procedures that you have to do… in that someone else may have had that same problem – and may just show you his operation scars next!

Shish – how do you stop the “funny person” from telling you more? The thought came in a flash, I said out loud to my mother and daughter, “Look the TV camera guy is going to step in the poop!” The new “funny friend’ that I had made – whipped around and stated adamantly – “Nope he missed it…” Then he stared at all the poop until the bus pulled away. Note to Self: Poop is not all that bad when it happens – it can get you out of sharing operation scars.

Ooops I missed telling you about another “funny person” at the bus stop. You all have witnessed teenagers with their Ipod (a small music gizmo to fill you full of musical stuff) glued/wired in their ears and maybe they are mouthing words to their favorite band being piped into their brains. Guess what? – when older guys my age are plugged into their Ipods – it isn’t cool. In fact it is so un-cool that it looks just plain stupid – and when he is singing out loud without any sign of background music – off key – but he knows the words well… it is double un-cool. The teen at the bus stop stared at the dude with the fancy Ipod thingie. Note to Self: You have watched too much Law and Order TV (Cop Shows) and the undercover cops of Regina don’t really look like this.

When we arrived back at my mom’s apartment I walked out on her 9th floor balcony. Way down below there were about six people waiting on a bus. There were three older ladies with canes, and two possibly three “funny people”. I wanted to go down and meet them – but I didn’t have time. Note to Self: When mom has said over and over again that she doesn’t take the city bus often as it tires her out… now I understand.

Dana my daughter said to me, “Dad, I am going to rent a car for this week. It will be easier for grandma. Are you okay with that?”

Note to Self: You sure have Fathered some brilliant kids!

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~
Formerly of Regina, Saskatchewan…

West Jet - Pure Comedy Mixed with a Wee Bit of Frustration

This posting today is made from the 9th floor of an apartment building in Regina, Saskatchewan – at 5:04 AM – Regina time…(dealing with the two hour time change).

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As our West Jet flight touched down in Calgary, Alberta – the flight attendant came on the speaker with the second funniest statement I have every heard any flight attendant every say… “Ooooie, that was a smooth landing! Folks we want to be the first to welcome you to Cow Town – Calgary…” My daughter looked at me and commented, “Makes you wonder if they are not all smooth.” We giggled together.

Now I should mention here that we are traveling from Toronto, Ontario to Regina Saskatchewan – a total of 1600 miles. In order to accomplish this we had to fly to Calgary, Alberta and then change planes to come back to Saskatchewan – only about 1100 extra miles. Crazy! Okay!? Dana and I dined in Calgary before getting our next flight back east to Regina.

This next leg was even more interesting – just a short hop of 550 miles to Regina. The first thing we noticed was that the aircraft has no TV or Movie machinery. The new Flight attendant pointed this out as they began the routine demo stuff for Safety Exits, drop down masks etc. As she began she said, “Folks, as you can see this aircraft is not equipped with entertainment of any sort. Martin, my assistant here, is quite capable to entertain you in special ways tonight as he is completely familiar with all aspects of the ‘Sound of Music’. He is able to sing, dance and act any of the parts that you may request. During the flight please feel free to ask him to perform for you. (Martin blushes demurely..) At the back of the plane is ‘Angie’- please turn in your seats and wave at her(no one responds)….Awhhh… poor Angie… no one waved…” then a whole bunch of people looked backwards and waved at Angie. This show was getting better with each announcement… I listened to the whole rig-a-ma-roll to see what else might be said that is ‘off the wall’.

Good going girls! In my 45 years of listening to that schpeel – I heard it all.

This new flight attendant proved to me that she should get the “Best Flight Attendant of the Year Award”. At the end of one hour and fifteen minutes we began to descend into Regina from our 37,000 foot altitude. As we approached the ground she began her request to have us remain in our seats with our seat belts firmly in place. Then it happened… she continued, “Please make sure that your carry-on bags are in place under your seats or in the storage compartments above you before the aircraft lands. We do not want the baggage to shift in any way… because we know that ‘shift’ can happen…” In her hurry to get her message out she left the “f” out of “shift”. It was at that moment that the aircraft passengers erupted in laughter… the microphone went dead and the crew was howling. After about 3 minutes or so… she came back on weakly and stated… “We don’t want the bags to SHIFT, SHIFT… that is what I said… honestly…!”

As the air plane touched down and came to the end of the runway, she came on again and said, “Please remain seated with your seat belts on until the Captain has turned off the seat belt sign and the aircraft comes to a complete stop at the terminal – at which time your luggage will be delighted to see you again.” This girl was great! Dana said to me – “The way these attendants are it makes you want to travel with West Jet again.”

But - Yes there was a wee bit of frustration too…. As we were about board the aircraft in Toronto there was a medical emergency on board – where the girls rushed on with the ‘portable paddle pack’ and then a mini emerge cart zoomed through the crowd around us waiting for their turn to get on board. That wait was only 25 extra minutes…

But with that extra wait there was some small humor as well.

Dana and I noticed, when we sat in the larger waiting area for our flight, two small families with ‘monster children’ – “cute but oh boy – I hope they are not sitting next to us” kind of kids. One little 2 year old girl was with her daddy alone. The other 1 ½ year old was traveling with her grandma and mommy. By the time we were ready to board these two little people had gone through all the books that they had in the carry-on bags. They had stuck all the stickers on each other and on their parents from the sticker books…. and eaten all their treats/snacks…. and they had run away from daddy and grandma a dozen times… dodging in and out of everyone’s legs and carry-on baggage.

The medical emergency didn’t take place until after the wee ones were allowed pre-boarding privileges with their parents. The 2 year old and the 1 ½ year old were on the aircraft for the full 25 extra minutes as the staff took care of this medical problem. And the kids were no where near us on the plane.

I can’t wait for our next leg of the journey home again.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Not Enough Time

It is 6:16 AM as I begin to prepare this entry for our Blog. In three hours we will leave the house on our journey to the airport. By tonight I will be in Saskatchewan and at my mom’s place to begin her journey to Ontario(you likely have read of this already).

It seems that there is not enough time to get it all done. The suitcase is lying open now and ready to put the stuff in to cover two weeks of the journey. Now I need to get the underwear, socks, shorts, slacks, tooth paste, deodorant, etc….. I will likely forget something in the rush out the door… and in all likelihood take things that I do not need.

This is so much like life… too much to do and not enough time to get it done… picking up stuff along the way that is not needed and missing important things that should have been dealt with. I need to sift through these thoughts today and in the weeks to come.

To balance the frantic – I look forward to seeing old friends again. I haven’t seen mom for almost two years now. We talk lots but it has been a long time since we were together.

That is so much life too.

I am asking that you say a prayer for me today. It will be an exciting and hectic two weeks to come. I will publish again shortly.

Gotta run – gotta plane to catch.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Ordinary Delights

Agnieszka Tennant wrote in the recent Christianity Today (March 2007) the following words…

“Momentous thrills – a wedding day, a birth of a child, reconciliation between hardened enemies, and a stunning answer to prayer when you are low on hope – point to God more noticeably. So do tragedies, mistakes, and sins. But I’m talking about delights that we encounter more frequently, those we have at our disposal and to which we have become accustomed – the terrain, the minor, the normal, the everyday, the routine, even boring. They, too, reside in the realm of providence.”

As I sort through what she has said in her short article entitled “Ordinary Delights” (as part of Taste and See – P76) inspired me to think this through.

I have been watching each day for another beautiful experience that God places near me – the moon, the sun, the squirrels and just every one of the ordinary happenings around me. I love the humour that I see in nature and the little world around me. But there is more… according to Agnieszka Tennant… there is wonder in the very ordinary.

I gave my grand daughter a hug and she smelled so good. Her hair had a sweet smell to it. As I hugged her, her cool arms went around me and she hugged me in return. There is nothing more satisfying than a grand daughter hugging you.

Her cousins came by as well. This hot little fellow had sweat running down the nap of his neck… he had been wrestling with his brother – and he was HOT. He looked up at me and said so sweetly, “Hi grandpa, are you and grandma staying here to tonight?” I answered, “No..” and his reply was “Awe – why not?” His voice said he cared. Ordinary but amazing.

A few years ago it was simply amazing to hold them as little babies, now they are responding as little people with strong feelings about things and me. Ordinary – but I don’t want to miss it for a moment. A time will come soon enough when I will not see them so much or maybe I will not be able to respond as well. That will be ordinary as well but will block some of this special world around me now.

I am sorting through this thinking now as I said. I want to see the world around me in a new way.

Tomorrow I will head to my home city, Regina, for a last time. I will be helping my mother move to Ontario. It is a strain to take part in this move – because the ordinary that I grew up with will be no more. I will not likely be back again. But even these feelings are amazing all over again. For my mom it is even greater – this could be the last time she sees the prairie in this life time. This move is major for her… but she is ready to come here.

I discovered an ordinary creature in our bathroom – the ‘daddy long legs’ spider was on the foot stool the kids climb on to use the sink. He had built a small nest in the stool.

Another spider found a corner in the one room to suspend his new web works. It seems that this time of year that we are not alone in our home. Ordinary but amazing.

This week I want to see what God sees in my little world. I want to come closer and slower in my world. I want to see the wonders of a small world around me. I want to fill my life with Ordinary Delights and with the praise of God in my life. I want back the Wow Factor that has been there – but some times gets blown away in the rush to survive.

What will you discover today? What has your world in it that will raise your spirits? God is reaching out to us – every moment. WOW!

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Getting what you long for

“I don’t want my breakfast for supper!” Emma declared with her arms folded and eye brows turned down. Her mom had just laid two hot pancakes on her dinner plate – warmed with butter and maple syrup running over the edge of each cake. It seems that at that moment (that was a year or so ago) Emma had definite ideas of what should be served at different meals and what shouldn’t! You see pancakes are always for special breakfast times when dad and mom have lots of time to prepare it. This particular evening they were being served because mom was running late and there was a program to follow quickly after the meal.

Last evening I was reminded of this thought again about our only granddaughter. She has very definite ideas of right and wrong. She and her brother Clifford were staying at our home overnight. After they had been in bed a while, she marched upstairs to declare that Clifford “was making noises” and she couldn’t get to sleep (they had been in bed about 15 minutes…)

When your brother is a pain – you tell on him. You want it your way. Clifford in turn will be there to tell Emma what she should do and how she, at 8 years old, doesn’t live up to his 12 year old ideals. Emma will sob at times, “Clifford wishes I was dead!” The melodrama is simply wonderful – you need not watch TV – just watch grandkids.

I smile at times watching adults in church – they are similar in so many ways. And yet at times it can make you cry when you hear the whole story. I have come to realize that some (many?) adults are grown up 8 and 12 year olds… and pretty much have been stuck in a pattern for 30 – 40 – 50 – 60 or 70 years.

Yet there is a conflicting verse of scripture that bothers me…

Psalm 21 verses 1 & 2 state…
1 Lord, the king is filled with joy because you are strong. How great is his joy because you help him win his battles! 2 You have given him what his heart longed for. You haven't kept back from him what his lips asked for.

I have pondered these words – “given him what his heart longed for..”

I have longed for lots of things… but never got them. I have wanted lots of stuff – but have what I have – and I deal with it. I have wanted a new car – but there is no money this year for one. I have longed to have my mortgage paid off – but guess what… the Bank owns more of my house than I do. Some of you know that feeling I am sure….

Then why does God give to some and not to others? Why does the King get this blessing and not the ordinary guy?

Maybe the answers are in the fact that God has called him to be King. In relative terms there are other Kings that have more than he does… but the Psalmist helps him to realize that he is blessed just as he is – right now. He is living in blessing – right now! He need not worry about other Kings in the area.

Now adjusting this thinking in my own life is super important to my happiness. I am blessed now if I look at what I have NOW. I have an older van with some dents in it… but I have a van that runs. I have a warm home that has served us well. I only need it for a few more years and will take nothing from it when the Rapture takes place some day soon.

I have more than the King of Psalm 21. I AM BLESSED. Blessings are only really seen by drawing comparisons. You need only remember what you were like and then see what you have to recognize blessing. Looking at some one else helps to see blessing as well. The caution is to avoid the envy – by comparisons that put us down – and to turn to appreciation for what we have now. Again – I AM BLESSED.

In the days when Psalm 21 was written there were different kinds of Kings. There were Kings that were powerful and even cruel. There were Kings that were kind and loved the people that they were King for…. In fact a reading of the whole of Psalm 21 tells a story of different kinds of Kings… and the fact that God will help the King that is being praised to do what is right – and win the war.

Then notice – the King that is being highlighted here by the Psalm writer gives us a secret – in verse 1 – “How great is his joy because you help him win his battles!” He is a happy King and a Blessed King because of his people around him.

I have found a simple fact to be very true – people follow Kings(leaders) that are just. In fact people flourish under just and righteous Kings. If the King is good – it is because he has blessed his people with his blessings. He has poured out on the population all of the blessings that he has received. Kings throw big dinner parties for the little people around them. Kings give away King Stuff to people that do not have. Then the people that watch Kings sing Psalms like Psalm 21 – about all that they do.

I have thought of this often… if I would want to be great in the kingdom affairs of God – then there is a simple but powerful truth I must follow – be a servant to all. I need to place my self in the place of the people around me. I have to be with them – even if it means that I might be at risk. I long to be great in God’s Kingdom.

Getting our “longing” in the right order – or maybe having our longing change is vital to a blessed life.

Have you checked your “longing meter” lately? What are you longing for? Could it be it needs a little adjusting and maybe even some overhauling done?

God can give us a new longing and then begin to put things right in our lives. Simple ask him for help. He will do the rest – oh but you may be require to take the next step and get rid of some junk.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

PS – BTW – yesterday I got rid of all the piles in my office. It is all gone. Two big garbage bags FULL. Not hidden and stacked some where else – but gone. There are two small binders of material ready to be sorted. (Please read yesterday’s post – below..) I am blessed!