Testing

Hello everyone. This is a test of an app I just got called BlogPress. You see I am going on a trip to El Salvador and I would like to upload blogs from my iPhone instead of hauling around my laptop. so, if this works, you should be able to go to http://creek2es2011.blogspot.com (posts coming soon) and you can read about our trip.

Enjoy and wish me luck (or God speed if you wish).

For what it's worth. Take it . . .


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

To Blame . . .

Another observation.

Today, I had a long drive in the car by myself.  I had the radio on tuned into a well known Canadian news station a lot like NPR.  They are always running special interest pieces.  Some fun, some controversial.  It was good to loose myself in the intellectual thoughts.

The one piece that caused me to write this blog was about the news of a newly appointed governmental position.  The article found at cbc.ca starts by saying the following.

An aboriginal judge with Ontario's Court of Appeal has been appointed to head the Truth and Reconciliation Commission examining the legacy of decades of abuse at Indian residential schools.

The piece continues by telling the reader (or listener for those of us who heard it on the radio) of the terrible living and schooling conditions that the Native Canadians (known as First Nations) were subject to years ago.  The government took young children from their families and they were placed in institution-type schools.  These schools were not closely regulated and many of them became havens for unspeakable situations.

The article says . . .

Indian Affairs Minister Chuck Strahl announced Monday in Ottawa that Justice Harry LaForme, a member of the Mississaugas of the New Credit First Nation in southern Ontario, will chair the commission that the federal government promised as part of an out-of-court settlement with former students of residential schools.

The commission, which will formally be established on June 1 following the appointment of two panel members to work with LaForme, will move all Canadians closer to the "shared goal of healing and reconciliation," Strahl said.

"Ultimately, we all want to make sure we achieve a fair and lasting resolution to the sad legacy of residential schools," he said.

LaForme has a daunting job ahead of him.  There are about 90,000 survivors of these schools.  You can read the rest of the article at the following site http://www.cbc.ca/canada/story/2008/04/28/laforme-appointment.html

I listened to this report as I drove this beautiful countryside.  I am a newcomer to this land.  An outsider.  Looking at this place with a different perspective.  I began to realize the every place you go you will find some sort of skeletons hidden in the closets.  Things that no one likes to talk about.  I got thinking about my homeland and all the mistakes the government made over the generations.  Not one country is immune to these parts of history.  Everyone has dealt with issues that people wished could be swept under the rug.

Who's to blame?

My wife and I are currently dieting.  In the course of choosing which one we were each going to do the observation came out that all diets tend to be fads.  What we thought was the sure fire way to loose weight 5-10 years ago has been replaced by the next sure thing.  We find that there is some aspect of the last fad that most people didn't take in account . . . aspects that made it lose favor in the eyes of the popular opinion.

I remember hearing a drastic example.  There was this one woman who was very overweight and who desperately wanted to lose the pounds.  She enrolled in this highly controversial and experimental surgery where the doctors actually bypassed the majority of her intestines.  Basically her digestive tract went from her stomach to her colin.  The idea was that if you send you food on this fast track then your body wouldn't have the time to extract all the fat and bad stuff into your system.

Well, it worked.  The woman was able to eat when and what she wanted and the pounds fell off.  The food literally went right through her.  She was thin and happy and the doctors thought they had found the next great diet.

After about a year the woman started to have complications.  You see, not only was there no time to have the fat and bad things in food to make it into her system, but there was no time for the good things to get absorbed either.  The much needed vitamins and minerals passed straight through as well.  Her bones became brittle.  Her skin became blotchy.  Her hair started to fall out.  She became skin and skeleton.

The diet seemed to be a great idea at the time.  But the doctors could not foresee the long-term effects.

I tell that long and involved story because it helped me understand the "who's to blame" question.  My theory is that the residential schools that were set up here in Canada were done so with the best of intentions in mind.  There were concerns about the education of these children.  The government made the best decision with the understanding and resources they had at the time.  Decisions that were made without the understanding of what the ill effects might be.

I don't want to sound like I am belittling the tragic circumstances that a generation of First Nations had to endure.  There are many things that need to be reconciled.  I am saying we need to be careful of how we point our fingers in situations like this.  The human race is fallible.  It doesn't matter what the decision is, there is no way of having all the information of what is or what will be.  The best that we can do is to deal with the consequences and remember the past in order not to make the same mistakes again.  I believe that Canada is doing in this situation.

The bottom line is this.  Just like governments and kingdoms can make bad calls with good intentions, we as individuals can do the same.  So if we point our fingers, cluck our tongues and act "holier than thou" when certain organizations make mistakes then we make ourselves out to be liars.  Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.

My humble opinion?  If we all realize that we are all capable of making mistakes (which we all do) then we can extend grace to everyone else when mistake happen.  And the sooner we extend that grace the sooner we can all get closer to the "shared goal of healing and reconciliation" in all areas.   Don't get me wrong, consequences need to be met.  But let's spend our energy on dealing with those consequences instead of looking for, and down on, those who are to blame.

For what its worth.

Take it . . .

When You Only Got 100 Years To Live

Just a quick observation . . .

I have been catching up on my Facebook and MySpace pages.  Not sure why but I have had a wave of people reconnect with me by becoming my "friend" on line.  But here I am.

I got a comment from a former high school classmate.  "Can you believe it's been 20 years?"

20 years?!?!

I said that phrase over a few times in my head when I read it.

Then I realized.  When I was in high school I was between the ages of 15-18.  And if someone said "In twenty years you will . . . " I think I would get stuck on the 20 years phrase and miss the rest of the sentence.  Twenty years is an eternity for an 18 year old.  At that time in my life I couldn't fathom a year or 18 months out as I contemplated going to college.  

But now I look back on 20 years and say to myself.  That wasn't long at all.

Oh a lot of things happened in that time span.  Graduation, Marriage, first job, first kid, second kid, third, and fourth, moving, succeeding, failing, ups, down, great luck, missing the boat.

But what I observed as I mulled that phrase in my head was the question . . . a question that I glibly shot back to my friend, Estelle . . . Is it that it doesn't feel like 20 years has gone by?  Or is it more we have come to realize that 20 years isn't all that long?  

My assessment . . . if that song is right and we only have about 100 years here on this earth . . . then it must be that we get a better understanding of how time flies.  And if that is the case we should be living every moment of those 100 years to the fullest.  Take the good with the bad and realize that the bad helps us understand and appreciate the good.  The good is precious.  And though we can't live in the good all the time . . . we can take it along with us in our memories.  And those memories are cherished and stay vivid when we share them with friends, with family.

Just a nugget of wisdom for us all to chew on for a the day or so.

For What It's Worth!

Take it . . .

100 Years

Five for Fighting

I'm 15 for a moment

Caught in between 10 and 20

And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are 
I'm 22 for a moment
She feels better than ever
And we're on fire
Making our way back from Mars 
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live 
I'm 33 for a moment
Still the man, but you see I'm a they
A kid on the way
A family on my mind 
I'm 45 for a moment
The sea is high
And I'm heading into a crisis
Chasing the years of my life 
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy, Time to lose yourself
Within a morning star 
15 I'm all right with you
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live 
Half time goes by
Suddenly you're wise
Another blink of an eye
67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We're moving on... 
I'm 99 for a moment
Dying for just another moment
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are 
15 there's still time for you
22 I feel her too
33 you're on your way
Every day's a new day... 
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to choose
Hey 15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live

Happy New Years

Ok, it's not really the new year.

In fact, as I look at my iCal I realize that it's a quarter of the way through the once called new year.  For my USA friends and family it's almost tax deadline time (Canadians have until the end of April . . . and yes ours are done and in already.)  The time of resolutions and, well, the breaking of said resolutions has come and gone.  But, as I dust off this blog site I find my self looking over the last several months.  And, like in the new year, I realize that I have a lot to be thankful for.  Plus, I have been on an amazing journey since that last time I blogged.

Here are some highlights in now particular order.  My family and I have moved and settled in to British Columbia, Canada.  That statement comes with a lot of yahoo moments.  The kids are settled in awesome schools are are doing quite well.  My wife and I have received official work permits and now we both can be, and are, employed.  I have picked up a new hobby and am enjoying it very much (3d graphics/animation with Blender; www.blender.org.)  I do most of my work (and play) on a Mac (my wife and kids still us a PC).  We have been given on car and the use of a motorcycle (Suzuki 450gl)  I have made it through 6 months at my current employment, which includes all major holidays, and all without my stress level getting higher that a 7 or 8 out of a scale of 1-10.  I have spent tons of time doing personal music writing/arranging . . . more than several years prior put together.  I've started back going to the gym that includes lifting weights with a former weight lifting coach.  I've even preached my first sermon in over 10 years and it quite well.

As I sit here there are many other things that run through mind but I realize that there in no blog in all of cyberspace that could contain every detailed "cool" thing that we have experienced here in the last 6 months or so.

But, I also realize that this little exercise is amazing therapeutic.  It is great on the new year to look back celebrate the blessings over the last 12 months.  So great that perhaps it would better if I took the time to do it in closer intervals.  How much better would it be if I did this blessing-counting once a month?  Once a week?  Once a day, even.  How soon we forget the details.  And those details are important.  The often lead to the more finer details that connect to even more almost invisible ones.  Like looking at painting from a famous artist, the more we study the more we realize how rich we really are.

Time will continue to pass.  Will we treasure the finer moments as they do.  I am realizing the importance of sitting and remembering and being thankful.

For what it's worth.

Take it . . . 

What Comes Around . . .

OK . . .

Skipping over comments about the delay in writing. And going on . . .

Yesterday I had an experience for the second time of my life. I sat in a room with someone dieing of cancer.

If you refer to my archive of about a year ago you will see the blog of my mom's passing. It was almost a year ago. Around 10am Christmas day. My mom gave up the earthly fight to the same formidable foe. It was a time that change my life forever as well as my relationship with my dad and my role as a son. That is a blog for another day.

Her name is Wendy. I think she is a bit younger than my mom. She has cancer that I think originated in the lungs and just recently they have found it in her hip. Right now she is living with her mom (of 80 years) because she owns a one floor condo type apartment. Wendy can't traverse stairs. She is confined to a walker and sitting on a couch that is up on blocks so she doesn't have to bend so far down.

She spoke of patches for the pain. Mom had the same ones that were changed every 2-3 days. She would beg for a new one as the time period would expire. Then when she got a new dose she would collapse and sleep for a while. Then she would have a day in a half of feeling good. Then it was a downward spiral until the next dose.

The there were meds for "break-through" pain. That usually made her stomach quite sick just to add to struggle.

There were other things that were similar between mom and Wendy. The side table covered with the prescription bottles of this and that.

The occasional phone call that has to be taken in the other room and spoken in whispers . . . giving the daily report with family or friend in a way that doesn't upset the patient. Then returning wiping tears and blowing the nose. I remember we would take turns answering the phone so as to lightly the emotional load of giving the report yet again.

But the biggest thing that was similar was that feeling that we were all in the same room and looking at death. That sounded like it was meant to be scary. But in that room, and like the room with mom, it wasn't as scary as it was sacred.

Sitting in the room with my mom to me was a holy place. I felt at peace. Perhaps it was because I was helping and being a good son. But mostly I think it was the fact that I was sitting with my mom at the front door of heaven. We didn't know when the door was going to open and she was going to be ushered in. We were excited. We were impatient. We were nervous. We were scared. But it was a sacred place. As weird as it may sound . . . I found myself not wanting to be in any other place. I wanted to live in that shelter. I knew God was there. The place was thick with his presence. There were messes to clean, meds to prepare, there was pressure to get it done, there were even times of stress when the pain got too much and when the emotions got tightly strung. But it was peaceful. My faith was confined and grew in that room. God was at work. And he was using me.

Yesterday we sat in that second floor apt with Wendy and we gazed at death. Heaven's door probably wouldn't open for a few months yet. But that peace was there. All the other feelings were too. But peace at the fore-front. God was in that place. Questions, frustration, confusion all were lurking. Like Peter walking on the water. As long as we kept our eyes on the one who has called us out of the boat our surroundings seemed to stay at a peaceful bay.

I left there with tons of things to ponder. But I was struck by at home I felt. God is good. He prepared me for that moment. I was able to add and encourage. I am suited to pray. What comes around . . .

FWIW

Take it . . .

Another Try . . .

I have been reading some of my old stuff. Entries of months even years past and I realized something.

I really enjoy writing. Not that I want to try and make money at it. But I like remembering what I was feeling and thinking at the moment I "penned" (typed) certain things.

But it's always the case where we never have time for what we love to do. Or to spend time with those we love to spend time with.

Why is that?

Oh, I come up with great excuses and there are some things that do need to be accomplished. But that fact remains. We never have enough time to do the things we love to do.

I use to write songs . . . I even toured a bit with my own stuff. I have gotten many compliments, many unsolicited, about the songs I wrote. I never take time to write any more. Why? Well there is always work. And then family time. And the rest that needs to happen because of all the work and family time. Etc.

But as I read that paragraph it becomes clear. I never take time because . . . well . . . I never take time.

My dad once told me that he has no regrets in life. He has done everything he's dreamt to do. He is only 62. But he told me that about 8 years ago. How in the world did he do that? I guess the short answer is . . . he found time to do it.

Time is what you make it. My dad also says the phrase "shoulda, coulda, woulda . . . built a lot of bridges". I am not sure he's saying that right but whenever I hear the words "I should of . . ." or "I could of . . ." I think of that concept.

Well, here goes another try. And new leaf. I am taking a new job in a new city in a new country. I have a chance to wipe the slate clean and try again. Will I do it? Perhaps. Will I fail? Most certainly. I pray that I find that important things and keep them important.

And live life with no regrets.

FWIW

Take it . . .

Check Out Our New Blog . . .

We are in the mist of moving. We want you to join us. I have started a new blog that will keep you up to date with our progress. The whole family will be submitting entries.

More news to come.

falkelog.blogspot.com

FWIW

Take it . . .

Q: How many . . .

. . . bass players does it take to change a light bulb?

A: None. The piano player can do it with his left hand.
FWIW

Take it . . .