I Think I'm Loosing It.

Have you ever been so focused on one thing that you forget something else? I did that. Or should I say, I do that. When our vacation was coming to an end, after a great twelve days, we starting to pack the car the night before the drive home. Put most of the things in the car and then realized the way we were doing this, everything would not go in. So, we unpacked the car, set everything down on the driveway and started again.
It went very well the second time. Before we knew it, everything was in and we were ready for morning. Early the next morning, well, very late that night, or whatever, it was 2:00 a.m. when we got up and climbed in the car for our twenty two-hour drive home. Things went famously until the mountains of West Virginia over heated the transmission and we had to make an eight-day detour.
By the time we had the car back to Canada we were ready to empty it out onto another driveway. It went satisfactorily as we reacquainting ourselves to all the items we had packed. That was, until I asked if anyone had seen a bag of “splat balls” for the children at church. Everyone replied with a definite no except one voice replied they had last seen they on the other driveway.
A long distance call and an email brought word they were not there. That was two months ago.
Well, we made another trip in the mean time and personally looked everywhere while we were there. To no avail. The only thing we could do was to buy more. Lucky for me, or unlucky depending on how you view this whole episode, they were discounted and I was able to get replacements. You also need to know we had to go out of our way to go and get them. It was good to go into church a few weeks ago and give them out to the children who had requested them.
But here is the twist. This past week, I was to chauffeur some people around and decided to clean out the car. It went famously. Looked clean and tidy until I noticed a corner of a white plastic bag under the drivers seat. Saying to myself, “Self, how did that get there?” Reaching under the seat as far as I could, I grabbed the corner of the bag and pulled. Now don’t get ahead of me. Wait for it. Along with the bag came fifteen “splat balls.”
Barbara, stop laughing and pick Bernard up off the floor. To tell the truth, I was laughing as well. Laughing at myself. Now, what do I do with fifteen splat balls. By the way, splat balls are to be thrown gently at any surface where they go flat and then slowly go back to being in their original shape.
I spend time with some residents at Macassa Lodge. Wonderful people. Some are special people with problems of the memory. Every time I see them, they ask my name, and who I am. But one wonderful thing most of them still remember. Something they have never lost. And they are the words we all sing together.
Jesus Loves Me, this I know,
For the Bible tells me so,
Little ones to Him belong,
They are sweet and He is strong.
Yes, Jesus . . . .
Something to think about
Rob

Working Out!

After a couple of days off, I was back at it again today. I do take the weekend off almost every week now. There was a time when I attended most every morning no matter what day it was. But here I was again at the gym dark and early.
Clear sky in the morning and most of the usual suspects were there. Each one has their agenda and each one most likely is looking for results. Well, except us old guys and gals who realize after 30 years of the gym, we are fighting a losing battle.
I’m sitting on the stationary bike, as if a bike that doesn’t move could be anything but
stationary, looking around at who came and noticing who is missing. Actually Bernard, I’m peddling on the bike. Okay? We have one elderly man, an old time preacher who comes when he is feeling well enough for his 20 minute work out. He likes to talk and share, “What’s new?” Some days he slows me down but sometimes he fills me in on what he has heard. Always great to see him.
Then there is another fellow, short, confident and brash. I know he is a little rough around the edges but he cleans up his vocabulary when he knows I might be listening. Another fellow comes in, gets to it and goes. Seldom saying much to anyone. Then there are the forty something ladies who come before work struggling to keep that young look. Intermingled with all of these different types are those who are trying to get “big” and strong and all those things that show. Reminds me of kids in a playground saying to each other, “see what I have.” “Mines bigger then yours.” Still at 5:00 a.m. we are all sociable and we are enjoying what we are doing.
As I looked around, I realized something - this is just like going to church. Many varied people with many and varied goals and agendas. Some come when they can, other show up now and again. And then there are the 20 percent who are there no matter what. There to get to the task at hand and get the job done.
And just like the gym, we are all there for the same reason. We come to church to be moved by God to better and greater things for Him. Church is a place for friendship. It’s also there for worship. God is there and it is to Him we come. Discipleship teaches us to grow and get better at what we do best. Church also helps us to prepare to go out and tell others of all the benefit of knowing a Saviour who loves and cares about our spiritual health. And lastly, church is there to prepare us to show the world God within us.
Come on, let’s work out together.
Something to think about.
Rob