Who Dies First - My Computer or Me?

It may be the weather, the month, or the simply the amount of work – but it has all piled up again. Too much – too fast – and too full seems the best way to describe the way that life has come at me in this past week. Faithful postings on a Blog have been difficult. Yikes – what happened?

Have you ever felt that way? Has a time come that you need space and freedom? Has the amount of things in your life seemed to double and triple over a short period of time? That happened to me last week and then this week it doubled again. Today I began the day a little earlier and the freedom returned – somewhat. But with each day filling fuller – the answer of getting up earlier is not so good – tomorrow I will begin at 3:00 AM to get done – and the next day will begin at 2:45 AM. By the end of June I suspect that I will not need to sleep at all… work will have taken over completely.

I ran across an interesting article in the Toronto Star over the weekend that made sense in some ways. I had been thinking of the complicated way that life has developed and the amount that is coming my way. Then Mike Musgrove, a writer for The Star stated it for me… He tells the story of a man by the name of Fred Wilson, a venture capitalist, that declared a new kind of Bankruptcy – with his emails. Fred wrote these words… "I am so far behind on email that I am declaring bankruptcy,'' he wrote. "If you've sent me an email (and you aren't my wife, partner, or colleague), you might want to send it again. I am starting over.'' (see reference below)

People that are buried in email are making some radical changes in their lives by either deleting all that they have and not answered – or sometimes taking long breaks from emails altogether. Maybe even getting off the computer for extended periods of time and freeing their lives. They are taking back huge portion of time that is swallowed up by things like email – reading and answering.

They actually click off and delete whole lumps of requests for contact, questions asked and material sent – no matter how important. Yikes.

In the old days when we still ran Windows 98 SE – the one just before the Windows XP – it was not uncommon that our computers would crash. It was likely the software that died because of very limited ability to repair itself or be repaired. It was not uncommon to have some profuse apologizing given in that they had lost your email in that their computer had crashed and they had lost everything. With the newer generation of the computers – both the hardware and the software – this happens far less often. That report now comes back more likely when someone forgets or loses an email communication – caught as guilty.

In those old days of 6 years ago we found relief even though we were frustrated with the loss. Today with the machinery acting as almost reliable 99% of the time – the work just keeps coming – so does the email both good and bad.

Over this past week and into this one the stream to my computer slowed a little – but the outside work didn’t – that is outside of the keyboard. There were many things to look after. I was going to bed tired each night – with a day that was too full. I couldn’t do what I did even one week before.

Thus the title of what I am writing today – “Who Dies First – My computer of Me?”

Notice a few things that are shocking to me. My computer comes first in the title… and that I have come to recognize it as a person… someone that dies. Double yikes.

When my wife and I went to Africa in April she asked a very delicate question as we were packing – “Are you taking it with you?” The “it” she referred to was my pride and joy – my laptop that I have lifted faithfully twice each day for over three years now. She has lowered the computer from its “personage status”(in my mind) to maybe around that of an animal (in her mind) – something like a pet dog. There is a wee bit of jealousy I suspect – at times I spend more time with my machine than with her.

Alida doesn’t put the same emphasis on emails that I do. I understand that we are different. But maybe… that is a problem… hmmm? This past weekend a reality check brought this factor out.

I have come to realize that there are few new addictions evolving now…. “Email addicts”, “Email pass-it-along addicts”, “Junk eMail pass-it-along addicts” – all mixed with the normally important emails that are our connecting link with some of the world out there. Stir this mixture up in your inbox and then take a look – you are loaded each and every day… with way too much. At least I am…

So – if I have been slow to reply, slow to post, or just slow – it has been that life has been rushing by and I had to catch one of its buses to a slower area. Thanks for understanding.

Oh – BTW – a few months ago someone shared an email with me about the newest computer that will make it much easier to get the work done – anywhere. I am including some photos here. It is amazing. The email came from a friend of mine and I would love to be the first to get one… the photo at the beginning of this Blog shows it and the others below…If you would like a larger size photo – just email me.

Enjoy your days and number them with me.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

“Make it stop, consumers say of emails” by Mike Musgrove http://www.thestar.com/article/217955

The Great Egret

The following story is written and contributed by Bruce Lindsay. Thanks a million Bruce... its was one of those kinds of days. (Photo Borrowed from the Net - by George Jameson)

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

The Great Egret
by Bruce Lindsay

Recently I was in Florida outside my sister’s house, in the backyard actually, where a small river flows by. I had noticed a couple teen-aged boys fishing earlier and catching some pretty big fish. So once the kids were in bed I headed out on my own with my brother in law’s fishing rod and some stale hot dog buns to use for bait. I’d heard the fish go for balls of bread.

I had only been fishing a few minutes before I noticed this big bird land about 40 yards downstream of me. He was as tall as my shoulders at least. He eyed me and I eyed him. I didn’t want to have much to do with him, and from his body language, it seemed he wasn’t sure if he should be so close to me either.

I kept on fishing, keeping half an eye on this big bird. I noticed that as the minutes passed he actually was coming closer to me. Each time I baited my hook (the clever fish kept stealing the bread-ball but evading the hook) I looked and saw him take another step or two closer. He was soon only about 10 yards from me. Still his body language told me he was feeling very uncomfortable being so close and he was ready to fly away at a moment’s notice.

Then it happened, I landed my hook in a big one. It must have been at least a pound and a half because the tension on the line was not as strong as the pull of this fish. I wrestled with the fish for a while and finally got him to shore. I flipped him onto the grass, then bent down and pulled the hook out. And then I had a strange feeling, a feeling that I wasn’t alone. I looked over my shoulder and this big bird was no more than an arm’s length away from me. He couldn’t talk, but if he could have, I imagine he was asking “Mine?” like the seagulls did in the Finding Nemo movie.

I stood up and he still just stood there, peeping around my shoulder, looking at me. I could see in his eyes the question, “May I have that?” He didn’t move any closer. We looked at each other. The fish flipped around on the grass.

I walked past the fish a few steps and said, “Be my guest buddy. I was just going to throw him back, but I can see you need him more than I do. You’re just a skinny guy.” I motioned for him to help himself.

He did.

He had the fish in his long beak in an instant. Then this fat green still-flipping fish was down the bird’s throat in 2 gulps. The Egret looked at me quickly (I want to believe it was to say “Thanks”) then flew to the other side of the river to digest his meal in a safer spot.

He stayed there while I fished. He was good company. Very quiet, but that’s how a good fishing buddy should be. Before too long he flew back over near me, but I didn’t have any more luck. I ran out of hot dog buns, said good night to my friend, and went to bed.

That great big bird taught me an important lesson that maybe important to others too. I am a man who often finds it very difficult to ask for help. I would often struggle to do ‘two man jobs’ by myself when it only makes sense to ask for help and use two men. This bird was clearly feeling nervous like that. Yet he asked for help. He was hungry. I had a fish. “May I have that?”

People who are in a position to help will often help. It’s in our nature, I think, to help others. We only need to know that others need help. How foolish we sometimes are when we’re too proud to ask for help.

It certainly doesn’t make people think less of us when we ask for help, quite the contrary. I thought this was a very brave bird to come so close to me despite the possible danger I could be to him.

Finally, the person asking for help and the helper can form a bond of friendship. I called this bird “Buddy”. I felt like I left a new friend beside that river when I went to bed.

These are all good reasons, for me to ignore the feelings of humiliation that crop up when I need to ask for help. I pray that God will help me be brave and ask for help when I need it. If I’m more like that Great Egret, I know I will have less great re-gret.

The Brilliance From a Diamond

Debbie is a jewel. I am not yet sure which kind – but I know she is a jewel. Probably a diamond – with a brilliance that outshines all the rest around her. From her shines so many things. Debbie is one of our friends.

A few years ago she husband passed away – he was a friend of mine as well. It has been hard to say the least. Then in these interim years her son Jason lost his eyesight due to a diabetic conditions that he has. Today with other problems he sits in a wheel chair. But from that wheel chair he has built a new life. Again he shines something like his mother does… with a new brilliance. Again another jewel.

With that short introduction I am printing these poems that she just wrote. She told me to publish them under ‘anonymous’. I told her, “Sorry Debbie – they are yours and people need to know that.” She replied, “Oh Okay…” weakly agreeing with me.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Peace – Strength – Security
By Debbie Dagg

1.) What gives you Peace? – My Faith
Peace is a presence in my body and soul,
Without it my life would just never be whole.
I search and wander but faith is my key,
Without God in my hearty I just never would see.

The great wonders of life and the stillness of death,
From the birth of a baby, to a loved one’s last breath.
Faith is a vessel that leads to the light,
So peace can be felt in the darkness of night.

2.) What gives you Strength? – My children
Strength is my anchor to hold on to and rest,
When the seas are too choppy; I‘m not at my best.
My love for my children is my strength and my guide,
When emotions flow over with much turmoil inside.

My strength comes and goes as each day moves along,
Giving birth to my children is what keeps me so strong.
They’re the one thing I did in my life that was good,
To hurt them or leave them; I never ever would.

3.) What gives you security? My writing
Security is a measure we need to survive,
A hug or a blanket; a way of feeling alive.
My poems are my outlet, my emotions are there,
My words open doors and my heart is laid bare.

I can’t see when they’re inside but on a page,
My pencils my wand and my papers my stage.
It’s my way of coping and my way to heal,
My emotions are many and my feelings are real.

My Garden of the Future
By Debbie Dagg

I begin at the first with nothing at all,
But a patch of old grass and some dirt in a ball.
I till all the soil with a fork and a spade,
I now form the earth to get just the right grade.

I place down the edge with a plan in my mind,
I pick out small rocks and all the weeds that I find.
I fertilize it well and I water with care,
Now all the flowers I buy; seems that springs in the air.

Brilliant colours of pink, yellow, coral and blue,
Wines of bright green and purplish hue.
I plant them with love and a summer to see,
My wonderful garden, my future and me.


Symptoms
By Debbie Dagg

Grief is a symptom of Loss,
Loss is symptom of Death,
Death is a symptom of Life,
Life is a symptom of Birth,
Birth is a symptom of God,
God is a symptom of Love,
Love is a symptom of Grief.

Moments of Greatness - Moments of Tragedy

Before this week I never heard the name Jordan Manners. Few people at his school last year, in his Grade Eight Class, would look at him as being unusual. After all he was a Grade Eight student… just barely beginning. Yet today a national newspaper blares a headline of “Sorrow and Anger” from its front page. Jordan Manners’ life was taken two days ago by another young person in a school stairway – by one ugly shot from a gun. He went from a moment of being a likeable teenager to a national figure. It happened in mere moments. A series of bad moments collected to change a world.

I have been thinking of the other young person that pulled the trigger. One ugly moment that has now changed his or her world forever. One really stupid decision that cannot be reversed and can never be taken back – has left this person in a world that will always be filled with nightmares. This moment of tragedy – took just a split second to transform a whole world.

How do I know this?

In my ministry, over the course of years of my working with a broken world, I have met two men, in different places, that have done the unthinkable thing of killing another person. These men stand out as being on their own – horribly unique in their own way. I have met with other men that have killed people – but these two were very different. They had never been caught for what they had done. At least the accounts that they shared in their broken conditions indicated terrible things had happened and they were never free of the nightmare. That is why they talked with me to try to find relief.

I have thought of these men often – wondering where they are now. I have many doubts that either is alive today. In the last two days these memories have come alive in me again – as I think of a young person that pulled a trigger and changed a family’s life forever – and shattered his own.

Moments can be filled with decisions that lead to Greatness or to Tragedy. It is a unique and simple decision that someone makes that will change everything – for everyone. The sad part is that – only the tragic decision moments get national headlines.

Keith’s Life…
In the course of my ministry I served in Scarborough as a youth pastor as few years back. In this role my life was entwined with little guys like Jordan Manners. I remember most of them. They come from struggling homes with one parent usually. They love music and friends. They collect wherever the action is taking place. But for myself as ‘white pastor’ there were limits to what I would know and understand. I came from the very different world of southern Saskatchewan where I attended school when I was their age.

It was at that stage a person by the name of Keith stepped into my life. Keith was black. He and his wife came to talk to me about doing something with the teens in the community that we ministered in. Volunteers that were burdened and ready to get involved – wow!

Keith was a mechanic that worked for a very large company. He loved his job and did well in it. He was young and ready. He was muscular and sturdy. Keith and his wife had a young family and wanted to get involved.

Keith described the moment that changed his own life. In high school, in the Scarborough area, his fellow students were not doing well. There were fights and there were guns. Someone had been knifed and left to die. It was at that moment that Keith took a step into Greatness.

Keith realized that his fellow students struggled with the schooling. They just couldn’t keep up to the level of education that was offered. Keith himself was an excellent student and had very high marks. Keith made a commitment that he would personally tutor any and all students in his school year – so that they would all graduate with him. He talked to other students that did well in their schooling. Together they formed a team that tutored others. In his final year he did hundreds of hours of personal, hand to hand helping with his friends to make sure they passed out of school with their graduation certificates.

Keith and his wife did the same with the teenagers in our youth group. Unpaid and happy their decision to change their own small world made a huge difference to hundreds of teens.

It was in that one small moment that Keith had decided to take Greatness into his life.

Recently I met a young black man that looked at me and said loudly, “You are Murray Lincoln – aren’t you!?” He was handsome and vibrant looking. He told me that he was now a pastor at a church in the Toronto area. He then stated, “You don’t remember me I bet. I was in the Junior High Group when you were a Youth Pastor in Scarborough.” This young man stated, “I remember you.”

Here in front of me was a little boy that was Jordan Manners’ age when he came into our youth group. Keith had taken him on as one of his boys at the youth group and made a commitment to get this one on track – making good decisions. He was a product of Keith’s dream to help people.

Another moment of Greatness that had changed a life entirely – Keith had made a difference.

Today my life is filled with opportunities for Greatness or for the other stuff. I am making choices that will change the world around me. Moments that matter. Moments that will make a difference. What will I do with them?

My new commitment for my 63 rd year is to be available for as many of these Great Moments as possible. If I string them all together there are some Great Possibilities in Great Moments.

How about you? What will you do with your Great Moment opportunities today?

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

To the Family and Friends of Jordan - we are praying for you folks today. It is a terrible time for you we know. Somehow a miracle will come from this to touch many lives.

When New Life Begins

This is “Year 40” when New Life Began. It is not 2007 AD for me but a huge one “Year 40” – when New Life Began. On the other calendar it was September 9, 1967 – on ours is was Day One or Year One.

Wikipedia.org tells me that in September 1967 the whole country of Sweden switched from left hand traffic to right hand traffic at 5:00 AM (September 3rd). On September 9th, Fashion Island opened in New Port Beach, California – the First outdoor shopping mall in California. On September 18, "Love Is a Many Splendored Thing" debuts on U.S. daytime television and is the first soap opera to deal with an interracial relationship. CBS censors find it too controversial and ask for it to be stopped, causing show creator Irna Phillips to quit.

My of my…how things changed since then. But nothing changed as much as my own life – and the life of my wife – in these 40 years.

Last night we attended a local baseball game. After sitting for about an hour we stood up to go – slowly. Both of us had stiffened up while sitting beside the ball field. After arriving home we both laughed as we walked into the house slowly. My 86 year old mother was moving faster than we were. It was a Kodak moment – in a slow motion setting.

Something happened in 40 years. We both slowed down so we could catch each other.

Beginning this month we enter another season of weddings and meetings with Brides and Grooms. Together we walk through the final steps to prepare a very memorable day. These days that are planned will be ones that no one will ever forget.

Mix in a few tense moments when the power could go off the 24 hour period just before the wedding – being turned back on just moments before the ceremony – at the same time that the clouds cleared away and the two days of rain stopped for the outdoor wedding. That was a last summer’s wedding. (Think about that one… where did the bride and her maidens get there hair done?)

In another case - add to this account that the one bride’s maid had not eaten anything, was nervous and shaking from head to toe – there was a great gasp as she hit the floor bottom first and then her head on the pew that was close by. Oddly enough everyone thought it was the bride’s father that had collapsed because he had just been released from the Hospital.

Oh there are many, many stories that can be told about wonderful weddings. Each is unique on its own. Each will have a little of each family woven into their tradition and each will be unique from every other wedding that you may have ever attended.

Weddings keep me young and push back the calendar 40 years to a faster moving and lighter stepping bride and groom… that had the world by the tail and knew what to do. Oh boy – I still have the tail in my hand – at least a piece of it – and the world slipped away.

We have a simple white sign above our sink that states plainly, “I started with nothing… I still have most of it left.” Comical… yes but so very true in some ways. Yet it is not true at all – we have 40 wonderful years of life that is now topped up with 6 grandkids and four wonderful kids… thousands upon thousands of unbelievable memories… that we talk about all the time.

While meeting with another couple the other night – preparing for their big day together we heard something that made both Alida and me smile. They stated that, “We are not having a large sit down wedding dinner… instead we have decided to keep it very simple – we are having small sandwiches served.” Alida and I looked at each other and smiled, then giggled out loud. That was our exact Wedding Dinner(actually luncheon) before we climbed on a big jet and left for our new life together 40 years ago. Sitting with this couple we were young again.

When New Life Begins – it keeps you young. Do something fun this summer – go to a wedding – they’re more fun than football, basket ball or soccer games.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Reference above http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1967

Survival 101

The grass shivered a little… and then some more. Then the movement below the grass turned a corner. The movement drew me closer to the grass surface. The spot that I looked at was over 3 feet away from the small bush at the edge of the lawn. There in the grass was a small mouse struggling as quickly as possible to make it back to the bush…his place of safety.

I watched with amazement as the small creature maneuvered from one clump of grass to the next. He was almost covered with the grass and he was in a big hurry to get to safety. He had a purpose for sure and that appeared to be survival.

Not far away was a crow guarding his territory. Looking for food and whatever might drop by. The crow had not yet caught the sight of Mr. Mouse hurrying across the lawn highway to get home to his family. Come on use your imagination here a little bit.

My question is what made Mr. Mouse understand that the open area was not really a good place to be? What created in him the need to keep covered up? – no matter what happens – hide! His little heart had to be no bigger than the end of my little finger. Some simple inquiries told me that it beats around 6 to 10 beats each second and can go up to 1100 beats per minute – but averages only 550 beats per minute. Wow!

Mr. Mouse had never been picked up by a crow before is easily understood – or otherwise he would be dead. It is also unlikely that he had ever been higher than one inch off the ground and for that reason had never witnessed another mouse being picked up. He just knew that he should be out of there and into a place of safety. Move it Mr. Mouse – move it!

As I pondered this simple creature and its ability – it is amazing to consider its natural instincts to survive. It knows where it should not be. It has a deep desire to avoid dangerous places.

In my garage I have set two mouse traps. I bate them with Peanut Butter which Mr. Mouse’s relatives seem to love. But I am having a hard time catching the little cousins. They cautiously come up to the trap and lick the Peanut Butter from the trap’s trigger. There all around the traps mechanism are tiny teeth marks along with a smooth marks where the Peanut Butter was completely gone from the trap. The trigger was actually cleaned right off. Too smart – too very smart!

One thing for sure is that he knows better to not be there when I come around. The little one in the grass was not aware of me as I looked through the window close to the grass.

Reflection…

• I wonder… what men and women would be like if they avoided danger?
• I wonder what men and women would be like if they avoided the trap of debt?
• I wonder what it would be like if they had that uncanny ability to know when the old crows of life were near – and then avoid that area altogether?

Recently I have been with people that ignored the inner thoughts or prompting of danger. They would rather have a simple short term good feeling in a “trap” to savour the good tastes. But they were not as lucky as Mr. Mouse’s cousins. They did not get a way – the trap slammed shut and they died emotional, spiritual and even physical deaths – even though they are still alive.

The sight of some one on crack is not pretty. The thought of a dead drug addict is not easy to leave alone. It comes back to haunt again and again. There is something about the shaking hands as they take a hold of the cigarette and light it – inhaling the smoke and finding a short term release – that really bothers me.

I am not a crack addict – nor have I ever been. But I am human and danger is close by – all the time. I need to make good choices – maybe you do also. Smart choices are ones that avoid the danger places.

Hey I know that it is a sermon now… but it needs to be said – watch out. Get your act together – you do not have a great time left.

I am pulling for you today.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

As the woman came walking through the exit she was weeping. There were squeals of joy as she ran into the arms of the waiting people. Big tears fell from her cheeks as she came into their arms. Then a small girl helped me to understand when she said loudly for all to hear, “Grandma, Welcome to Toronto!” It apparently had been a long time since they had seen each other. This was the moment that loneliness was wiped out… reunions do that in a wonderful way.

I have come to realize that loneliness may have become the new norm for many in our world. I see it on faces each day. People that are living among the living but are unknown. Not only unknown – but all alone too. You can be in a large crowd but not seen and not known. You can be among people that say they care but have no one talk to you at all. You are all alone.

Just one person to talk to is a gift greater than one offered in Christmas wrapping.

I remember stories of both my grandmothers feeling a deep loneliness as they lived out their roles as young mothers miles from anyone to talk to. In southern Saskatchewan it is a long way from no where. Their husbands were in the fields for long days and the wind blew incessantly outside magnifying the deep loneliness inside. Yes you can be in among family and be lonely – very lonely with no one to talk to.

This week I feel a deep sense of loneliness again. It was 20 years ago that my dad passed away from a heart attack. There are times that I wish that I could call him again and just talk. But then so does my mom – who now lives with us. She knows loneliness but doesn’t talk about it often. She said a little…. but this year is even harder. This year the people that she knew so well are so far away. I know she is lonely too – for dad and for friends.

When loneliness strikes it is hard to know what to do. No one knows what to do except stare it in the face and cry.

I met a man recently that had just been released from prison. He missed his cell mates and the guys on the range. He missed the times of smoking together. Now he was alone. He felt like everyone in the city hated him because he had this invisible number emblazoned on his forehead and the word – “Guilty!”

I met a senior that has no one left. Yes children come from time to time – but no one wants to know how her day went. And she has no one to ask about their day either.

Bob Barker and Oprah Winfrey make you laugh – but never call to see how you are doing. They are in the TV and never get out. Even the good Christian “TV talkers” are empty and only asks for more donations to keep the program on the air. The one stated that they were… “so glad to meet this way each day in your living room.” Truly an empty friendship that is…

A One Man Crusade…
My mom said something the other that has made me think deeply. She said she had tried to meet some one in the store but they didn’t want to talk. She had greeted another person and they looked at her funny. No one wanted to talk – no one.

I have thought of that often. There are a lot of moms – like mine. They go for walks to just get away from the facing up to loneliness. When they get to where they are going – they find loneliness – not a new friend.

My one man’s crusade is to be a friend to more people that are lonely. When they smile at me – I intend to talk. When they say something I need to listen. When they comment beside me – I need to listen better. Is the ‘product’ they are talking about really what they are talking about – or do they just need some one to listen?

I need some new friends today – How about you?

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Some quotes that I have found…

"We are all angels with only one wing...we can fly only embracing each other."
"Strangers are just friends waiting to happen."
"The better part of one's life consists of his friendships."
"Your friend is the man who knows all about you, and still likes you."
"Friendship is always a sweet responsibility, never an opportunity."
"What is a friend? A single soul in two bodies."
"Grief can take care of itself, but to get the full value of joy you must have somebody to divide it with."
"A friend is a gift you give yourself."

Source - http://www.friendship.com.au/quotes/quofri.html

God's Art Work

There tucked back in behind an air conditioner fan was the most beautiful tulip that I have ever seen. It was huddled along with a group of beauties that blew in the wind from the fan. The upgrade of the cooling unit had left these tulips to their own survival and very few people would ever even see them let alone know they are where they are.

The simple lesson is that a lot of people are like this tulip – beautiful but not seen.

I love this time of year. The opportunity to enjoy what we have for colour and beauty is amazing. Living in Canada with its long winters makes you just love the colour and freshness of spring. I love loving what I see. I love loving what I smell and hear too.

As I looked closer at the tulip and then was able to make the shots that I caught it was amazing to stop and look closely at the flower. It was as if someone had touched a brilliant colour with their brush and then exactly painted the interior of the flower. The fine lines would be impossible for me to duplicate with my brushes.

No wonder that people love Canada!

Here for your pleasure is the art work that I found this weekend. God’s art work is so special. Enjoy.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Signs of Our Times

There are times that a sign is worth a thousand words. I don’t know if you have found it that way or not? Recently while taking a day off we discovered some real winners. Signs that make you stop and think.

For instance the sign in Nairobi, Kenya that simply describes the Funeral Home in the photo shown here….

What more can you say? Wouldn’t you want to drop in to this Funeral company to check it out. I did and the visit was fascinating. There was a huge story behind this one – which I will tell this on Saturday night May 26, 2007.

But signs can be the best humour there is. For instance as you enter Brighton, Ontario from the North… where the sign proudly states… “Mount Hope Cemetery”. I am sorry, but that is just too funny… a Cemetery that offers Hope… hope for what may I ask? I know that there must be some deep theological explanation if you are a gifted theological person. But for the average “Joe” or “Jane” driving by… there aint no more hope for the dear folks that once entered here. I am sure that the original name for the rise of land that the you drive into was something to do with a churchy thing. What do you think?

Further east we came across another sign in Prince Edward county on our way down to the Sandbanks Provincial Park. The sign was one of the most honest signs I have ever read beside any road any where in my life. It describes perfectly everything they sold inside. The things inside had been carefully collected from generous folk that likely were not quite ready to give up there things. Have you guessed what the name of the company may be…. Well simply put it states, “Dead People’s Things Antique Shop”. Isn’t that cool… well maybe 'good' is a better word that cool.

Then as I began to look around many more signs with strange meanings and warnings started showing up… like…
“The area in front of this sign may occasionally flood up to 350 mm above the pit cover.”
“Little Pigs Genuine pit BBQ Sandwiches”
“The door is not to be used for entering or exiting the building.”
“Bargain Basement up stairs.”
“After tea break, staff should empty teapot and stand upside down on the draining board.”

How about your life and places that you have visited…? Love to hear from you. This is summer time.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

An Invitation from Peterborough Community Chaplaincy

A Personal message from Dan Haley.... (photo of Dan & Sharon Haley)

As the director of Peterborough Community Chaplaincy I have witnessed many miracles like Bob’s story is only one of many - (yesterday's blog posting)

What a blessing to be a chaplain and to go into prison were many of you would never ever dream of going. Walking through the dark halls of Kingston penitentiary and RTC regional treatment center where there are many of broken lives – changes your personal perspective. These men are just looking for a friend, a friend that will hold them accountable. They need a friend that will help them or teach them how to live out here in the community. It really is similar to be in the big brother relationship - but in this case you must be the big brother for big kids.

I have been doing this work now for almost 20 years; the first eight years as a volunteer and then I became a chaplain. I can say “Boy I am Blessed!” especially seeing the excitement of one man being out for 18 months. The excitement in him is amazing. It is hard to put what I feel and what I see into words.

The front-line work to this Ministry is absolutely amazing and the only way you can really understand is to get involved. I invite you to come and see and witnessed it yourself and to see what God is doing in these man's lives.

There is another side to this Ministry that does not have a lot of fun. That is the administration. My prayer is that in the near future we will be able to hire any administrator that our donor base really needs to grow for this to happen.

I am sure there are a couple hundred people out there that could give $20 a month to help this growing Ministry. To learn more about this Ministry you could go to our website http://www.ptbochaplaincy.org/ . The material in our website is always being updated it is a really good way to educate yourselves and learn more about this Ministry.

If you would like to drop by sometime – please do. The coffee pot is always on and you are welcome. Just give me a call to be sure that I am not in Prison that day. We would love to share more with you.

Dan Haley
Peterborough Community Chaplaincy
Main office P.O. Box 235
Peterborough ON
K9J 6Y8
705-741-4172 (Office)
705-741-4833 (Fax)
Office E-mail ptbocommunitychaplaincy@bellnet.ca
Dans personal e-mail danhaley@bellnet.ca
Web site http://www.ptbochaplaincy.org/

The Speaker's Words Rang in My Ears

When the speaker shared this thought it rang in my ears… and then in my mind. He said …. “Pick a cause”… pick something that will connect you with a community… there is an intersection between your company(life) and the problem in the community – develop a cause connection…”

“Develop a cause connection.”
“Pick something that will connect you with a community.”
“There is a connection between your life (company) and the problem in the community.”

The speaker’s name was Tim Sanders and he was part of the speaker’s list at the Maximum Impact Seminar 2007 last Friday, May 11, 2007. His message was one of many that had grabbed my thoughts and shaken my world. Simple statements but dynamic thoughts delivered with just the right amount of humour.

As I have been mulling over Tim Sanders’ words I have come to some simple first thoughts. Without a “cause connection” to the surrounding community isolation sets in. Without a connection between the needs in the community surrounding your life – there is no life to look forward to. It can be dull if nothing else and even destructive.

Tim Sanders spoke about “Social Value” and the frustration that one can experience when there is poor recognition of Social Value. In one instance he described his first job at a Hot Dog stand – that illustrated the complete lack of Social Value building.

The staff of the Hot Dog stand was instructed at great length as to what to do. For example they must put just the right amount of onions on a hot dog – not too much and not too little. There was constant fear of the mistake that could be made. When a mistake was made by the staff member, he or she was forced to wear a “Stupid Hat”… a large white hat with the word Stupid written on the front – worn for a whole day. To say that this was a negative experience is putting it lightly. All that mattered to the owner was doing the job perfectly – with little thought of the employee or the world that was being waited on.

Tim Sanders spoke about Social Value being defined as 1.) Good People.. 2.) In a good mood.. 3.) Doing good work for the world..

Tim suggested that when a person is connected to a world outside of their own – a cause in the community – their personal work will improve radically – even if it is a Hot Dog stand. He gave a number of illustrations that helped me to see how effective this was in the business world. Hmmm?

Bringing it home….
As I have reflected on these dynamic thoughts I asked the question how this sits with people that I work with in the church setting - with the “Ordinary people” that face regular problems in a regular community. A number of these ordinary people have ordinary problems at home and in their personal lives. Some work and some are retired. All have busy schedules that involve family and friends close to them. Most of it keeps them all busy on personal things. Some are caught in meaningless task of jobs that they actually hate.

Their jobs, at times, seem like Tim Sanders’ job at the Hot Dog stand – and they wear the Stupid Hat too many times.

The answer seems to be simple – find something outside of their life – a cause – and then get involved. But the seriously sad part is the world is isolated from them and there is no linkage. Their own job doesn’t yet have the dynamic stuff that Tim Sanders spoke about. Their life is even more removed from that ‘cause’ related world – that problem filled world.

Many people are viewing a cause filled world on their Big Screen, High Definition Television and think they understand. They are awed by the sights, sounds and even the colour – but will never get their hands near or dirty. They will view the horror of a Slum from their big Comfy Couch. They will comment on the terror of the local community but never leave the security of their locked homes.

There is no connection to any cause. Their closest connection is a visit to their own Doctor’s Office. Here they sit with other hurting people – but never talk to them or interact in any way. Everyone is hurting and many are from very different backgrounds – but the rules of the Big Comfy Couch are in place… break it and you will wear a “Stupid Hat”.

Now bringing it even closer to home…
In our community we have a ‘cause’ that we are all deeply concerned about. It may not be recognized by all of the residents but most are acting and reacting to it. There is fear of personal safety. Is the Community Safe?

There are men coming from prison that have some really bad rap sheets. These men could live beside these good folks – and that would be frightening – at least the newspapers tell us we should be afraid.

A “Safe Community” is a cause. The local chaplaincy program in Peterborough, Ontario works continually to build and maintain a safe community. It is an under funded cause – that is right under our nose. It is not a romantic issue, in a far away land, that appears regularly by fund raisers on our TV sets. It is a quiet ministry that works with men and women that are completely broken and in need of rebuilding. They are people that just want to get on with life – but are threatened by just walking outside.

Question…
Could you be looking for or in need of a cause? Could a good cause, that you could easily help with, change your world and their world too?

I know it could. It has changed mine.

Now you may well be reading this from a long ways from Peterborough, Ontario. If that is the case – there will still be a Chaplain – someone in your community – that needs help.

Find them. Call them. Help them. Get involved. This cause is waiting for you… and it will change your life.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

PS – Locally – you can contact Dan Haley, Peterborough Community Chaplain at 705-741-4172 or 705-750-5942 and 705-741-4833 (Fax) –
Office E-mail ptbocommunitychaplaincy@bellnet.ca
Dan’s personal e-mail danhaley@bellnet.ca
Web site http://www.ptbochaplaincy.org/
And the New Beginnings House

A Testimony of What Chaplaincy Does So Well... by Bob

NEW Beginnings is just what it says, a new beginning. Coming out of prison and learning how to adjust to normal living conditions is a challenge for anyone. Coming to a new community brings even more challenges and added pressure. With very little money, and nowhere to go, I came to realize that I would probably have to live in a crack house or some run down rooming house. I couldn’t handle that and my first thought was, I wanted to stay in prison, I felt comfortable there. I’m not ashamed to admit, I was scared, and totally lost. Enter Peterborough Community Chaplaincy and new beginnings. I met with Dan Haley (PCC) while in prison. Our conversation lasted nearly an hour and by the time it was over I knew where I was going. Dan offered me a place to stay and he was going to set up a support group for me. For those of you who do not know what a support group is, it is a group of people from the community who are willing to accept you into their lives, work with you and give you all the support you need. One major step that I have learned deals with, accountability. I’m accountable to myself, my support group and the community I live in. Our main objective at New Beginnings is “NO MORE VICTIMS”

When I arrived in Peterborough I was surprised to see how welcomed I was received. The people at the house made me feel comfortable and relaxed. The house was huge, neat and clean. I felt relieved knowing that I made the right choice. My support group was in place within a month and the relationship I have with them now is unbelievable. Some take me out to golf and sporting advents. There are others who have brought me into their homes and made me feel like a part of their family, I wasn’t alone any more. Where would I be if it wasn’t for this organization, in prison, on the street and alone! Just that thought alone scares the pants off me. It has been 2 years since my arrival here at PCC New Beginnings and life has treated me good. I now feel like a normal human being again. Most important to me is knowing that I have support, not only from my support group but from the police department and my parole officer as well. . It’s with this kind of intervention from Circles of Support and Accountability that makes the transition from prison life to community living an easy one. There are no more fears, or worried whether or not I would be accepted. New Beginnings is needed not only here but in all cities. With support from our communities and Gods help, New Beginnings can become a reality for every city within our country. The need is there are you?

Getification

The streets of our city are now filling with new creatures each weekend. These creatures have been in hibernation for the better part of 5 months. But as the weather started to warm and the leaves began to appear on the trees – they began coming out. Actually “bait” is being set for these creatures to which they respond very nicely to. When the bait is set they are immediately attacked to it and take the bait. The best part is they are worth money to the people who can catch them.

What are these mysterious creatures? The answer is simple – “garage sale-ers”. After being trapped in a house for the long winter months in Canada they almost vibrate to get on to the streets again and whiz from sale to sale.

For people that are not from Canada an explanation is good here. The excess that many people have in there homes in Canada has created a need to get rid of the things that are no longer needed. They need to sell these things. Operating on the simple principle that “one man’s junk is another man’s treasure” – a simple point of sale is arranged at the “street side” or “in front of” or “inside of” the garage… that was once designed to hold an automobile. The likelihood that the homeowner has collected too many things in their lifetime is high – and the garage is full of saleable things.

As a student of human nature I have been fascinated by this phenomena of people looking through other people’s junk that may be good, or not so good; broken or just glued together; may have all the pieces or not – and then pay them good money for something that is not new. In fact what they buy may well be really gaudy – or downright ugly!

We were at one garage sale and picking through the pile of stuff that was neatly arranged on the driveway for all to see. I went to pick up one item that was “interesting”. A fellow garage sale-er was also reaching for the same item at the same time. She hesitated and withdrew her hand saying, “It’s okay, you can have it, I have three just like it at home.” I withdrew my hand and asked her for more information about her statement. She explained that she had a ‘Thing’ for these things. The thing was a really gross and totally useless 12 inch high bust of Elvis Presley done in plaster with a copper finish.

Why I was even at the sale with the Elvis lover was beyond me. Alida and I love looking at other people’s junk. Sometimes the smell is a little over powering as the smell of smoke is lingering on the Record Collection of LPs from the 1960s. Or the whiff of mildew is lingering on the old radio that has the curled and frayed electrical cord. But with a little effort I know I can clean these things up and makes something out of it.

Don’t laugh – that is where I got the almost new Eight Track Tape Player for my garage. I am now able to play the endless supply of Eight Track Tapes that I have secured – all 150+ of them. Do you want to hear some of the “oldie goldees” that I have? There is Motown, Rock n Roll, Classical, Jazz and even Ukrainian Polka Party stuff in the 150+ set of Eight Tracks. In fact the new Eight Track Tape Player that I now have has the ability to record on to Eight Track Tapes – I just haven’t yet found the recordable tapes or something to record on to them… maybe at the next sale… hmmm?
Now I know that we are a strange group of people – we garage sale-ers. I now have an answer to why we do what we do – looking through other people’s junk to possibly consider it as our treasures. The new word that describes our actions best is – “GETIFICATION”.

“GETIFICATION” is related to gratification and somewhat thinly related to beautification. Gratification, as you know, is sought by getting stuff that you like or are enthralled with. Beautification is a desire to make your humble abode or your person more attractive. A bronzed, copper coloured, plaster Elvis Presley bust falls into these two categories of gratification and beautification. To make sure that we are able to fulfill these two vital areas of our lives we must act on “GETIFICATION”.

Along with the “Elvis Presley bust” are the Eight Track Tapes and the Players that are needed to play the tapes. “GETIFICATION” will answer the need for whatever you have need of. Real money is paid out because of “GETIFICATION”.

On the downside - “GETIFICATION” will fill your own garage to overflowing and “your cup will runneth over”. “GETIFICATION” may cause serious marriage problems or family problems as intelligent and happy collectors start filling their partner’s and family’s space with “GETIFICATION STUFF”.

When I sorted through the Clutter Corner in my garage the other day I saw some results of “GETIFICATION”. There was evidence of the growing virus in my own garage.

Yes “GETIFICATION” can be considered a virus that will take great people and make them into mush. Their hands will shake and their breaks will be applied suddenly at the sight of a garage sale. They will fixate on the Antique Road Show of TV. They will dream of this next weekend’s weather and hope for no rain.

We are planning a garage sale soon. To introduce the idea to all those that will drive by our property I am now preparing a sign that will say simply… “GETIFICATION” satisfied HERE. That ought to get them in. I am sure that the garage sale-ers will come. “Build and they will come…” “Lay it out neatly and they will stop…”

“GETIFICATION” will get them every time.

Come on – come and get it!

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

PS – I did not make up the word “GETIFICATION” – it struck me in a new Ad Series on TV that caught my attention. The new campaign uses the term "Experience instant getification" Read about it here http://searchengineland.com/070503-090852.php and http://www.adweek.com/aw/creative/ad_of_the_day/article_display.jsp?vnu_content_id=1003582390

Clutter Corner

I think everybody has one. For me I have labeled it “Clutter Corner”. It is an area of my garage that holds everything that has no place to go. Or it is a place that also catches the stuff that gets dumped when I am on the run. In my garage it is just behind the door as you walk in. Few people can see it when the door is open thus hiding the mess.

Yesterday was declared as “Attack the Clutter Corner Day”. It took the better part of the day to get it cleaned up and organized – but I did it!

The “How To” of cleaning Cutter Corner is simple but it takes effort. First you pull everything out of the corner making one huge mess in the open area and the driveway. The true sign of the fact that you have begun and that there is no turning back is the mountain of stuff. At this stage the pile in the middle is frightening and can actually jump up to hurt you – or you twist an ankle just getting over or around it. This is likely why I avoided doing something to the corner in the first place.

Next is a plan to sort, get rid of and throw out the junk that was hiding there under the other stuff. It is amazing what I found in the treasures buried in the corner. There were five year old and six year old things lost there on a run from the garage. Most all of it was covered with spider webs and other creepy crawlers.

Then I assembled a new rack and storage table that I made from old lumber that is recycled. It is amazing and it holds more than I even planned for. The hanging racks in the corner hold the many extension cords that were piled together like so many octopi.

My neighbours will be shocked when they come over tonight. I have gained six feet of new walkway into the garage. That has increased from a one foot path, that when negotiated needed a turn sideways here and small step there over that box – then a straight area that turned into another right or left turn to proceed further. Last night I sat for over an hour just enjoying the space. Clutter Corner is now sparkling clean and organized. I am proud of it.

Now walking to the edge of the six foot path there is another obstruction. It is a wall of more stuff that will be dealt with this week sometime.

Two things happened yesterday as I dealt with Clutter Corner. One – I was able to get it done. Two – I spent the entire day by myself. I never talked to anyone. That is a respite moment from business and Life Clutter.

Life and Mind Clutter…
The other day I read another scary article where more stuff that we use is now condemned. They now are attacking the plastic water bottles because of their polluting qualities and because they are not being recycled. In the same MacLeans Magazine they told how Al Gore flew into Regina to tell his tale of green houses gases and pollution and the rest of his song and dance. His private jet spewed more pollution than all the cows of Saskatchewan would in 6 months of eating and secreting.

As I read some of the articles and then had to deal with the Clutter that was provided I came to realize that my own life and mind can have the same kind of problems that Clutter Corner has. Too much useless junk that needs to be moved and removed have clogged the channels of creativity. Things that should be organized and stored properly have accumulated there as well.

I am working on this one as well. Today is Sorting the Thoughts Day. I am working through some complicated arrangements that need extra care. When this is done a new six foot path will be opened as well within my thinking.

Clutter Corner and Cluttered thinking have come together in one simple thought however. I still can’t find my mouse trap that the mouse ran away with… maybe tonight.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

The Meeting Place

Each Saturday morning in Peterborough, Ontario local people meet in an open Farmer’s Market. It is held outside during the summer weather and inside during the winter months. Local people congregate to buy from local farmers and artisans/crafters. People meet people. This happens not only for business but also for pleasure. The “streets” in between the venders are fairly wide allowing people to meet each other and talk. It provides a small town feeling for residents and their children. It is a Saturday morning ritual from 7:00 AM to 12:00 PM.

Mixed among the business folk of sellers there are a wide range ‘different people’ all trying to make a buck. One of the strangest was the dude holding the Canadian Flag and singing “Old MacDonald Had a Farm”. His odd shaped hat had many buttons from all over the place demonstrating that he was a world traveler of sorts. We saw him later in the day walking into a Tim Horton’s restaurant ordering coffee.

The ‘Buskers’ mix well with the stalls of farm producers. Three fellows shown in the photo were real good. The carved chicken dancing from the string held by the end of the one fellow’s guitar neck caught my attention first. The chicken was keeping step with the beat of the music played.

Old friends meet again at this Peterborough Farmer’s Market. Talk is as good as the produce. Easily exchanged and doesn’t cost much – except maybe time to stand and meet the old friends. It is amazing as well how many vendors know their friends walking by.

In one instance we were talking with a couple that sell beaded necklaces and bracelets. The man of the couple has just discovered that he has diabetes. As he and she were telling us the radical change in their lives another lady joined in the conversation about his diabetic conditions. She started telling her stories of how she has the same problems as well. No one in the small setting knew her – but that was okay. She was a market attendee and was welcome to share as well. That’s what we do there.

The most interesting meetings took place about knee high level. It was between the friendly dogs that came walking with their owners. All of them were on leashes and all of them were looking for each other. Almost every 10 feet or so you would see a dog straining at his or her leash to get to smell another dog. Nose to nose they would find each other and carry on a good sniff. Their tales would wag incessantly as they “talked” to each other.

This is the ‘rural setting’ that is making community more valuable. This is small town Canada. This the way it used to be. People stop and take time to give away their friendship. They spend what they need to and give away what they can. It is a marketable place.

Refelection…
I have thought often of this experience and wondered if the larger community can get back to this simple exchange as well. Is it possible for the whole city to do the same?

The street that I live on has been making an effort to do the same. We all make a point to talk with each other. There are no iron gates and security guards at the entrance to our properties. It is open and friendly. It is so different from other places that I have visited lately. It is not uncommon to see two neighbours talking in front of each other’s places.

When I spend time in my garage carving or even just watching TV – neighbours will drop by to talk. The open door policy that I have invites them to stop in. The other evening one man stopped in to share the problems that he has now. He is facing a cancer issue and is frightened at the prospects. Another person shared his fear of an upcoming heart procedure. In both cases that evening I encouraged them that I would pray with and for them. These are not religious men – they have deeper spiritual side than the religious. They need help and friendship at these crucial times.

How do you live on your street? Is your street like the Peterborough Farmer’s Market? What could you do to make it that way?

I have to run now. More things to straighten up in my garage today(day off). I have to get ready for more visits this afternoon and evening.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Making Memories With Mom

About two months now has passed since I walked through the old house at 1422 Elliott Street in Regina.

I had knocked on the door and no one answered. The door was open so I called and asked if anyone was home. As the door swung open a little you could see the results of the fire that had taken place and someone had tried in vane to clean it up. It was sad. A feeling of heaviness swept over me for a bit and then it was replaced with fascination. I was standing in a piece of my history that went back so many years old. We had left this little house over 50 years ago to move into a better home.

As I clicked through the photos the other day I was warmed again with the things I had captured that day. But the photos only caught the scene and the house of 2007. There is so much more.

As I stared at the screen I could see more. Out beside the hedge was mom’s old car sitting. Dad had been able to buy her an Austin. Not the Mini Minor that was to gain popularity but rather an older simpler model – ugly green in colour. I have slipped a photo I found of an Austin Morris (not having the time to get the real photo out yet).

The car was mom’s joy – freedom on her own.

One particular day she asked me to help her wash her car. Out beside the little house at 1422 Elliott we prepared to wash the car. Pails and cloths were all you needed. Some soap in the pail of water would do and then the hose that was attached to the faucet outside the house. My task was to hose down the car.

Accidentally – I sprayed mom – just a little bit… honestly. That was when she told me to give her the hose. I said no… because I knew the possibility of getting wet. The words went on for a little bit… she demanding me to give her the hose and me resisting. That was when I remember the laughter so well. Soap flew as she threw the wet cloth at me. At that moment I did the unthinkable – I turned the hose on my mother and soaked her. She chased me around the car to get the hose. I dropped the weapon and ran. As I turned she was demanding that I come back to help her. I did and then she soaked me. Laughter was what it was all about that day… the car wash was secondary.

So many memories – so many.

Today my mom lives with us.

After the move to Peterborough it has been very hard for mom to adjust. The loss of all her friends in her apartment building has been greater than an actual death. The grieving process is what we are facing together. I know that it has been hard for her.

Yesterday I was washing the van in our driveway and then followed by washing down the driveway. I was lost on thought as I cleaned up. It was then that I felt the tug on the hose. I looked around and there was my 86 year old mother pulling on the hose with a smile on her face… trying to get my attention. She had just completed a long walk with her new walker.

Both of us have much older bodies now. I would not spray her with the hose any longer – even if we were washing her new walker. And for sure – I couldn’t run from her any longer even if I tried. Her shoulder hurts these days and she couldn’t throw a wet cloth at me either. Lots has changed. We both are slower now. But the smile is still there. Together we will work on the problems of facing each day.

Happy Mother’s Day Mom.

~ Your son – Murray ~

Happy Mother's Day Reba

Life can get real complicated at times. Last night my wife and I visited ‘Reba’ – a senior lady in her 80’s now. My heart went out to her as she sat in the hospital chair watching a favorite TV program. Her hospital bed was not comfortable. She was still in pain three weeks after her fall at home. There was a big bruise on her right arm and her shoulder hurt badly. They are looking at a senior’s home that she might live in…but she wants nothing to do with that idea. She just wants to go home.

Reba described her family problems. She has four sons. She also has three grandkids and about three more great grandkids that she has never seen. Two of her sons have been in prison. Another of her sons is not allowed to see her because his wife hates her mother-in-law. She sent him an expensive gift on his last birthday – it arrived back on her door step five days later. Another of her sons stole $1000 from her bank account and sent it to his male lover in another city in Ontario. The male lover is a big time user of people and uses people like Reba’s son. One of Reba’s grandsons died a year or so ago – but she has no idea why – no one will tell her. He had come to borrow $10 from Reba the night before he died. The last thing that Reba heard from that grandson was, “I love you grandma.”

Yesterday was Reba’s birthday. Happy Birthday Reba. You will never read this – nor will any of your family – few have the wherewithal to do computer stuff. The half eaten Birthday cake sat on the rolling table beside her bed. She smiled at us and asked if we would like a piece of her cake.

It was the first time we met Reba. My heart goes out to her. How could so much happen to her since her husband died those years ago?

As I knelt beside her chair to pray for her – it was hard to not choke up. This lady certainly needs God’s help. Will she ever be able to find it? This dysfunctional family seems way beyond help. It is at times like this that if I had a Million Dollars I could step in and change everything. But Millionaires don’t do stupid things like that do they?

I don’t know what to do other than go back to see her again and simply listen. That seemed to help yesterday. I guess that is a maximum impact for her life too. Just having someone to listen is huge.

This year’s Mother’s Day has a new twist with Reba lurking in my thoughts. Happy Mother’s Day Reba. I will think of you tomorrow.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Dealing With The Spam File

By the hour and at times by the minute – my ‘Spam Box’ fills up on my computer. How about yours? On one of the computer programs that I work with the programmers call it ‘Spam’ and another they call it ‘Junk Mail’. On both it can be deleted easily by the push of a button. Click here and it is gone.

It seems that people find my email address of great value and have found a need to send me tons of emails about all kinds of really ridiculous things. Why would anyone in their right mind keep this kind of thing on their computer – let alone actually send for it or buy it? It staggers your mind.

If you have ever moved, you will have seen this happen in your own life and home. After years of living the ‘Spam’ or ‘Junk’ of your life builds up. It would take days of garage sales to get rid of the things that have accumulated. My mom and I have sorted through a little of her things to put in a garage sale. Others things we (or rather I) simply left behind in Regina when she moved to Peterborough. There are some difficult moments as we deal with the stuff…

The things have piled up and are difficult to get rid of. In life the sentimentality of the earthly treasures have a strong hold on each of us. In my case it is books… too many books… and some other stuff. Add to that other stuff that is piled high in my ‘garage office’ that has not been used for over 5 years. Others might and do call it clutter.

I (we) caught a TV Program a few weeks ago that had focused on one woman and her clutter in her home. How cruel could it be? The husband had contacted the famous TV Show personality and her production staff telling how cluttered his wife’s life was – how bad her home was. Then either without or with her permission they had come to film the lady’s house and garage.

Alida looked at me and said, “I am going to call them too”. Panic swelled and grabbed my throat. My blood pressure shot up and then down. My mouth went dry and then I gasped for breath. I weakly said, “I am dealing with my treasures. Slowly I am getting rid of the things I don’t need.” I went on to explain that I had a plan and that last week I had got rid of some books.

Yesterday my wife walked into to my office and looked around asking, “So how many books did you get rid of today?” This woman is good. She doesn’t forget. The earlier statement that I had made was true – but she was expecting me to deal with it on an ongoing basis. Get rid of the clutter. Get rid of the Junk. Get rid of the Spam. Get rid of it all.

Another wood carver that I know passed away. It was so neat that his wife and kids had brought his carvings to the funeral home to display around his coffin. When the hearse left the funeral home the next day after the service they didn’t have a trailer behind it with his un-carved logs in it. None of his carving books were in the hearse either – only a lot of flowers. The other day we drove by his place and all of the word carvings that decorated his yard are gone – so are the logs that were to be carved someday…

When the man across the street from us passed away I did the funeral for the family. He was a man that went to a lot of garage sales and a lot of auctions. He had lots of stuff. In fact at times it spilled into his driveway if his buys had been really good that week. But hey… he would always sell it and make more money from what he bought. I even was able to get a second scroll saw that I may use someday.

Two days after the funeral was over there was a huge orange dumpster in their driveway. The kids had come over and were rapidly and unceremoniously dumping the things this man had bought at the garage sales – IN THE DUMPSTER! Yikes what a loss! All that stuff going to the land fill. There were many things of value that went to build our city land fill higher that day. How sad.

As we drove into our driveway Alida shocked me when she said, “Now that is my kind of woman!” Again... panic swelled and grabbed my throat. My blood pressure shot up and then down. My mouth went dry and then I gasped for breath. I weakly said, “I am dealing with my treasures. Slowly I am getting rid of the things I don’t need.” To which Alida said with a smile, “Our kids will help me…”

Today is Friday… tomorrow is Saturday and I think the day is free to dig some more junk out and click it away. I think I will start on the back corner that I can’t walk through. I think I should take a photo for you to see my issue and then to show you my progress.

Whew – I got this written before Alida got out of bed and today is busy so she will not be able to read this blog for a few days….

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

Major League Baseball - WOW!

The fact that they came on such a cold night was special. The breeze was coming in and the temperature was dropping as the parents and grandparents struggle to stick it through. This is a special game for the 8 year stars in front of us. And to top it off I had a grandson playing tonight.

The pitching machine whizzed the hard ball quickly over the home plate. The strike zone was between 18 inches and 24 inches depending on the players height. Some of the guys were really small 8 year olds. But persistent they are. I was amazed that the ball coming as fast as it was – could even be seen let alone hit. But they did and did it well too. A number of good line drive hits and quite a few homers were part of this exciting game.. WOW! What a game!

I am proud of Michael my grandson – one of the really good players. There is nothing like concentrating on something like this when you are burned up and out. I began to recover at the side of the field.

The Humour…
In the stands are parents of the 8 year olds. You would be led to believe that their sons and grandsons will be major league players someday. I guess I should get their autographs now as well – the parent’s that is.

Listening to the parents is as much fun as watching the game itself. Talk about funny.

"A merry heart does good like a medicine" – the Author of Proverbs says. I believe that. At the game last evening the fun was there everywhere. I needed that very much.

Now the fact that “our team” won 10 to 9 helped the fun even more. I was grinning all the way home. Go Michael Go!

Oh and did I tell you that Michael got the first hit and the first run – and even a few more after that. Woooie!

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~

When Life Threatens You - What Do You Do?

The young man that sat across from me was shaking and his voice matched his actions. He asked me, “What do you do Pastor Murray when S%$# happens?” His life had just fallen a part again. The thing that he had planned on so much to give him hope had just been snatched from him. He had been in a training program with Ontario Works and because of his own health issues as well as his missing two classes this past week with two hospital visits – he was now crushed. The instructor had just told him that he was dismissed from the program for now and may be accepted back in July or September. His name is Rick. He was visibly shaken and hurt again. It was his own fault that it had happened too.

Rick has served time in Prison. He did some real stupid things and has paid for it with a good portion of his young life. When I first met him I felt there was some potential to get this one on board and move ahead. He appeared as a self confident and aware young man – at first. The closer I have come to him the more I have discovered a frightened young boy – that has no idea what to do with the next chunk of life. He had dropped out of his high school at grade 9 – having completed only grade 8. His reading is poor at best. Further more – his recent choices has separated him even further from reality and there is no where to go. Now where does he go when more S%$# happens?

At that point we sat together in one of the local Tim Hortons Coffee shops and I was listening closely to his every word. As I asked more and more questions he revealed more and more pain. Coffee Shop or not – this was a counseling session that required immediate and in-depth searching.

Pause here…
Add my last Sunday’s Sermon to this mixture… “Emotionally Healthy Living” – where I had shared about the “Emotional Jug” – with the “Mad”, “Sad”, and “Scared” stuff inside that covers all the good stuff that should be there… AND I am now living what I preached about. (read yesterday’s blog to get a better picture of what I mean)

Continue…
As Rick and I spent our time at the small table in Tim Hortons Coffee Shop- I was facing the large window behind Rick – looking out to the parking lot. As we spoke a young mom pulled into the parking space just outside the window. The next thing I noticed was this same young mom with her two kids – a little boy of about 5 and a little girl of about 4 sitting beside us. The little boy was munching on his chocolate chip cookie happily. The little girl wasn’t feeling good and sat on her mom’s knee – at times crying. The mom seamed numb. Something was wrong and she had stopped to get her kids something - a treat. She personally was not drinking coffee – she was in a world of her own. As I glanced at her, the world that she was in appeared to not be treating her right either. She was alone in her thoughts.

The Explosion… or when my world exploded…
As Rick continued with his account and then listened to my words a man behind me began to speak loudly. His voice raised to a higher and louder volume. He was on the edge of angry. I couldn’t hear what Rick had just said – either from the distraction from behind me or from the voice’s volume. Every one around us was caught in the voice and its word’s. As I listened to what the voice was saying its owner was scolding a child and upset with the child’s actions. The voice kept on belittling the child. Now the voice was near me. I turned to see what was going on.

The voice belonged to a very large man, taller than me and with a large stomach. He was glowering at the little 5 year old boy beside me, that sat munching his cookie and looking at his mom. The mom’s face was flushed and she continued to stare at her son. The voice was now louder and directed at the little boy to demand that he look at the voice. When I finally tuned to the content… the voice was telling everyone in the Tim Hortons that the little boy had not spoken to strangers when he was spoken to… because his mommy had likely taught him to not do that… and the child had been moving through the crowd… or something and something… and the voice was here now to tell the mother that was not responding.

I stared at the very large man that was nearly shouting at the child and the mother… then he turned to me and asked loudly… “Sir do you want in on this conversation!?” My heart was beating very fast. I was now involved. I didn’t want to be. I had been in an instant drawn into a fight. I was now the target and had no idea why or what would come next. His piercing eyes glared at me in a challenge. My Emotional Jug was ready to explode. I looked right at him and shouted back, “No – but because of the way that you are yelling you have involved the whole restaurant!” His response was STUPID and DUMB and not at all classy! In his best and loudest voice declared, “I am the OWNER of this restaurant and I will……!” I didn’t catch the rest of the big, powerful, stupid voice – my heart was beating too fast. I couldn’t hear anymore. I turned and picked up my coffee cup and in a shaking voice raised it to him and said in weak confidence, “AND I AM A CUSTOMER THAT MAY NEVER COME BACK!”

I looked at Rick and said “Let’s get out of here now!” Rick was right behind me. The two of us were right behind the mother with her two kids. The little boy held his cookie tightly as mom pushed him to the door. And the Big VOICE continued to “explain”.

Rick had told me how he had watched a man in prison beside him, at the cafeteria table, get “shanked”. He told me how the blood had gushed from the victim’s throat when the knife entered its victim right beside him. Now – together we had just been through a real close call of a “verbal shanking”.

I apologized to the mom as we exited the place and asked what had happened. Her weak reply was, “I have no idea what that was all about….”

I said to her, “ I am truly sorry..” There was no response she had already been beaten by what had happened. My guess is that it had already happened at home with a real DUMB DADDY… and she came to find refuge for her kids over two cookies – but then again I have no idea.

My Emotional Jug is too full…
As I returned home only a few blocks away I walked into our house to pour out what had happened to me. My wife listened. Her response was, “It’s a good thing I wasn’t there!” But what do I do with what had just happened to me? Simmer? Stew? SPIT?

If you will have read the April 8, 2007 posting on this Blog – “Stuffing It Full” and the part about the Tim Hortons Coffee cups going to Africa – you will know that Tim’s is a favorite place of mine and many others. In follow up to this African Story I had intended to contact Tim Hortons and tell them the story of what had happened with their “Roll up the Rim” cups in Africa. I had a contact card given to me by a staff member at a “Timmys”.

You guessed it – I called Tim Hortons to their Customer Service department and talked to Sonya first. Sorry Sonya – I unloaded big time… another big “voice”. Then Al from Tim Hortons called me back within one hour and asked me to tell him what happened. Thanks Al… you made it much easier to understand. Al and I laughed together on the phone and he did apologize for the actions of “the voice”. He helped me to understand a little better.

My Problem…
I cannot risk being ‘shanked’ by the STUPID and DUMB and not at all classy OWNER of this Coffee Shop. I cannot risk taking a former Federal Prisoner to a place like that – because one of them may just do something real stupid. Mr. STUPID and DUMB and not at all classy OWNER you need to know that your customers pay good money to buy coffee and cookies at your place of business and YOU DO NOT HAVE A RIGHT TO SHOUT – TO CORRECT THEIR KIDS – OR TO CHALLENGE A CUSTOMER TO A VERBAL DUEL. That my dear ‘friend’… is on the edge – which isn’t cool at all.

Thank you to Al and Sonya for listening. And Good Luck as you speak with the DUDE. I will be praying for your Emotional Jugs as well.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~
PS – I hope that the Tim Hortons folks are reading this Blog at some point this week.