Look for the small green disc in the air. 71st Annual SOSA turkey shoot at Sportsmen’s Bowl – Oliver
Archives for December 10, 2017
When something is beautiful most people can agree that it is beautiful. How is that? One of the Saints wrote of the five ways to prove the existence of God and one of the ways was this seemingly universal appreciation of what constitutes beauty. An interesting idea. I think they meant that at some fundamental level, we can agree on what is beautiful and as I ponder that, yeah, seems to be true
What about a beautiful thought, how will I know if I have one? Since it is just me in here with my thoughts, I guess I have to notice how I feel when I have a thought. A good feeling might be an indicator. Yet, I can think I feel good when I think about getting back at you know who. But that kind of good feeling has a tinge to it, if I just feel it a bit more deeply. Interesting for sure. I’ll think more on it
Is it just me, or is it that there really isn’t ‘the beauty’ just one, but always many? When I look at a beautiful leaf I don’t think this is ‘the beautiful leaf’, I think, this is ‘a beautiful leaf’, one of many, an infinite number actually. Hmmmmm? Have you ever picked up a rock and thought how beautiful it is? I’m starting to notice that it is more like there is beauty in everything, if I choose to look for it
I’m thinking that a discovery, an aha, is a beautiful thought about something heretofore not fully appreciated or maybe not known at all. That aha feeling is full of dopamine, that hugely joy filling drug that our bodies produce when our world lines up around ‘yes!’. This suggests to me that I can find more beauty, generate more joyous dopamine, if I go looking. Oh, so, look for beauty, find it, get reward. That can work
I find beauty if I look. Only then? Well no, I can get smacked upside the head by surprise sometimes. I guess we are not taught to expect beauty at every glance. Yet, if I take the time to really look at a rock, there is always beauty there. The tricky place to look is in the mirror. It can be a huge challenge to see beautiful there. What about this… be-you-to-full? Try looking as if at a rock and let the beauty shine
God Keeps Promises
Christmas is a time when hope runs high. Children expect gifts they asked for. Adults wish that peace and love would reign. Many promises and resolutions are made for the New Year. Each year many of those expectations turn into empty promises.
However we can count on God to keep His promises. The promised birth of Jesus, the Messiah, is the focal point of the season for Christians. Many do not realize how long ago God first promised that a Redeemer would come nor how many seemingly impossible hurdles stood in the way. It was a promise to Adam and Eve that this Messiah would be sent. (Gen. 3:15) When the first two sons were born Eve thought one of them would surely fill that role, but when Cain murdered Abel that hope was dashed.
Abraham was promised a son through whom this Promised Son would eventually arrive but he was already 99 and his wife 89 with no son in sight. But Isaac did come. Grandson Jacob had 12 sons and one of them would begin the lineage through which the Messiah would come. Their behavior hardly was the kind that would encourage us to believe that would happen because they sold brother Joseph into slavery. God had warned Abraham that his descendants would be slaves in a foreign country for 400 years (Gen. 15:13). Just when it was time for a deliverer to rescue the Israelites from slavery in Egypt Pharaoh decided to have all baby boys killed to avert the danger of revolt. Most of us know about the rescue of baby Moses from the Nile by the daughter of Pharaoh. Ironically, while seeking to avert the rise of a leader to deliver the Israelites he was raising him in his own palace. God keeps promises in spite of impossible odds.
A similar situation developed when finally the Promised Messiah was to be born. Herod massacred the male babies in Bethlehem but Joseph and Mary escaped to Egypt with baby Jesus. God continues to keep promises.
Ultimately the Jewish religious leaders in collusion with the Romans thought they could rid themselves of Jesus by crucifying Him, but that very action was the means by which God offers salvation to us. Even when things look impossible, God keeps His promise. We can sing with confidence, “Go, tell it on the mountain, … that Jesus Christ is born.”
Keeping on the sunny side,
A PRAIRIE CHRISTMAS……
It was Christmas Eve, 1920….four little boys anxiously awaited the arrival of their father who had gone to town.
A real prairie blizzard had started up; the windows were frosted over and the wind was howling. The little boys ran up the steep staircase to look out of the upstairs hall window. They could see nothing but a swirling mass of snowflakes pounding against the window.
Ma was downstairs baking bread and Christmas goodies, quietly singing Christmas songs, but they knew she was worried too. Daddy was long overdue and it was Christmas Eve!
“Boys”, she called out. “Wash up and come to the table – we’ll just have supper without your Daddy tonight.” The four little boys quietly went down stairs and washed at the little table where the wash basin and towels always sat.
Suddenly there was the clatter of horses’ hooves and the tinkling of sleigh bells. The four little boys ran to the door and before their Ma could stop them, they flew outside just in time to see their Daddy pull up to the barn. He was covered with snow and had icicles in his hair. Icicles dripped from his heavy winter coat and on the edges of his blanket that covered his knees.
“Daddy!” they cried. “You’re home. Ma has been worried. Did you see Santa Claus? Is he coming here tonight? Will the snow keep him from coming? We have cookies and a hot drink ready for him!”
“Yes, boys, Santa has already been here! I just passed him out on the north field and he dropped a bag onto my sleigh and wished me a Merry Christmas!”
Daddy jumped down from his sleigh and quickly unhooked the horses. Calling to his two older sons, he got them to help him get the horses into the barn. To the two little ones, he sent them scurrying back into the house, to the warmth of the fire and the care of their mother.
When the horses and sleigh were safely away, Daddy picked up his two boys and threw them over his shoulder and carried them into the house.
Ma had started to put supper on the table, but Daddy said “no, wait… I have gifts for the boys and some for you, too!”
Daddy pulled from his sack the treasures he had found in his day long trip to town. For his oldest son, a replica of a beautiful model T ford with a rumble seat; for his second son, a shiny, chrome harmonica with ivory teeth; for his third son, a finely crafted regal black stallion complete with saddle and bridle; for his youngest son, a brightly detailed engine with a car and a caboose. For his wife, a silk scarf all the way from Japan and a delicate, fragrant bottle of perfume, things that a prairie housewife would never think to ask for.
Ma quietly went into the pantry and came back with gaily wrapped presents. Socks, mittens and toques for her boys – and for their daddy too! Ma had also knit warm sweaters for each of the boys and for their daddy a set of strings for his fiddle.
After dinner, Daddy said “Gordon, go look over by the door, I think I forgot something!” Gordon ran over and there by the boots was another sack……full of Christmas candy and oranges! While the boys had their fill, Ma played the piano and Daddy played the fiddle, filling the house with Christmas music.
The wind was still howling, the snow still coming down, but the Christmas of 1920 remained a good memory for one of the little boys. The next morning they would see what Santa brought but tonight was just for the family!
Josias and Bessie Shaw always made Christmas warm and special for their children. Josias would save all year and go to town for a whole day to find just the right gift for each of his boys.
The four little boys were my Uncle Gordon who was 8, my Dad Russell, who was 6, my Uncle Arnold (Bill), who was 4 and my uncle Ernie, who was 2.
My husband Dave loves his old cardy. We met when we were eighteen and, even then, his old cardy was like his old friend.
There is nothing wrong with a cardigan I own several of my own and when they buttoned up correctly they can be quite smart, if a bit old fashioned.
Dave has a horror of anything bright coloured. His colour palette is beige, grey, taupe, dark green and, if feeling truly reckless, maroon. His type of cardy is buttoned from a Vee neck to the hem with two small, quite useless, front pockets. The trouble is, he starts to button from somewhere mid line and invariably gets them mismatched, resulting in a four inch discrepancy at the bottom.
His cardys have been washed so often that they are completely shapeless but Dave has a special way of wearing them with the shoulder seams pulled forward. This causes the sweater to go halfway up his back and hang limply, dipping at the front into an untidy Vee. Add to this pants that slide down a few inches, resulting in the crotch hitting mid thigh, and you have the apparition of an unmade bed.
I love this man with all my heart and would not change him for the world but I would like to tidy him up a bit. Early in our married life I used to knit him sweaters which he wore because he wanted to please me but, the lure of the old man cardy would seduce him back to his old attire. I have bought him many nice sweaters and sweatshirts which get worn once in a while, but then go back into the closet in favour of his old friend.
Because they get worn day in-day out, the elbows tend to wear through. Many years ago, living in Port Coquitlam, I got so fed up of his sweater not just having holes, but threads hanging from the elbows. One day I took the kitchen scissors and cut off the sleeve at the elbow and tossed the nasty old thing in the garbage. A few days later, as I drove up to the house, which was on a busy main road, there is Sir Galahad helping a damsel in distress fix her car. He had retrieved the nasty old cardy and was proudly wearing it with half of one sleeve cut off.
A few hours later I not only re-binned the cardy, I poured leftover tomato sauce over it and showed Dave his stack of cardys on the closet shelf. He admitted that he could probably get along without that particular old friend.
When we go on vacation he puts all the clothes he wishes to take on the bed and I do the packing. A new comfy cardy always goes with us. However, a couple of years ago we were cruising with some friends and the habit of the two men is to go and have a light, early breakfast, then bring coffee to the two ladies then, we all go for breakfast together. One day he woke me with my coffee and he was wearing the nasty old cardy and a pair of shapeless, fleece shorts that he loves to wear around the house. I had definitely not packed either of those two items which were certainly not up to cruise ship standards.
Several weeks ago we were in Walmart and he wanted a lightweight rain jacket for an upcoming cruise, when he happened upon a whole rail of nasty new cardys. His eyes lit up when he saw them and he dragged me over to the rack. The clothing must just have arrived so they had all sizes in stock. He picked out three in various dirt colours and was such a happy little chap.
The day we left for vacation he proudly put on his new acquisition and a nice pair of pants and came out of the bedroom for inspection. He had actually looked in the mirror and had the buttons lined up correctly, the shoulders seams sitting in the right place and had a big smile on his face. He reminded me of a five year old on his first day of school all ready to go on a big adventure. How could I not love this man?