The guy who was my pastor for the longest period of time in my life has died. It was a few weeks ago now but it’s taken me this long I guess to process some things. There have been a few occasions lately that have really brought him heavily to mind; especially when we were listening to some guitar music the other night. He was such a great guitar player and very diverse in his musical interests.
You’d think that people living in poverty wouldn’t have much to be thankful for.
But you’d be wrong.
Oh so very wrong.
I’m listening to George Michael.
Go ahead and judge me if you must.
I’d do the same to you.
This whole ordeal has led me to think about stuff.
(What else is new?)
We’ve been singing a song at church.
“You’re a good, good father,
that’s who you are,
And I am loved by you,
That’s who I am.“
When I was looking at the house this morning I realized I was observing a metaphor for the past year. We had to rip up the front yard in order to put the window in to our basement. The perennial garden that had taken 15 or so years to mature is all gone. The front deck had to be ripped down also in order to get the front excavated so as to put in the window. Right now the front of the house looks a bit like a tornado hit it.
Two Wednesdays ago We had invited the families in our church group over for supper. It was a wonderful time together and we were able to show them our newly renovated home. I went to bed feeling great, but then woke up feeling as miserable as I have in a very long time. We even had to call an ambulance. They took me to Saint Michael’s hospital where sadly I had to be for nine days until things got resolved. It turns out I had a bladder infection and a touch of pneumonia which both required strong IV antibiotics. Good times…
As far as Lent goes, I struggled this year to know what to leave behind in terms of my personal life in preparation for the resurrection and new life of Easter. In meditating about this, I concluded that maybe I might swear a little too much in my private life.
As I’m waiting in the hallway for that half hour to freeze my bladder, I see that there is a window overlooking the city. So I wheel to the window and wait out my half hour while looking out side.
The CN Tower is there. (After close to 30 years here that tower still takes my breath away). The sun is rising. The sky is blue. I am overlooking the city that I love so much
So I wrenched my neck. I wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary. It was Valentine’s Day and Erinn and I were having dinner together. We were reminiscing about how we got engaged on this day more than 20 years ago now. I had cooked what I thought was the most amazing meal ever; barbecued chicken legs. Who wouldn’t want to marry me with this kind of offering, I thought:)
So, I’ve been made aware that my last blog can be read ad a bit deceiving when it pertains to me moving home.
The move is still close, but not as imminent as I fear I have unintentionally suggested.
I fear I’ve been a tad impatient and a little hasty.
The finish line is definitely in sight but the very last few steps are kind of excruciating.