I HAVE COME TO AN END HERE

Well friends, I’ve considered this for a long time and things change. When I began this blog nearly two years ago, I had a very clear focus. I thought life here at The Home” was funny. In many ways I still do. No doubt some comments came across as mean spirited. That was never my intent, but all do not share my sense of humor.

“The Home” humor has now become a commonplace routine that has become boring. I have drifted away from that some time ago and moved on to whatever was on my mind. For those of you who read regularly you are aware that I had very little to nothing to say at times. I enjoyed talking about churches and government especially as it related to social security. I will stop griping about the issue if they will stop calling it an entitlement and return all the money they took from me. One of these days I am going to figure out exactly how much that was.

I have enjoyed writing and will continue to write, but I am going to base it on growing up in the 50's. The "Happy Days" from the point of view of a kid growing up in a Christian home. I had a blast and some of you will identify with those days.
Check me out at www.wildernesswandering-csw.blogspot.com

ENTITLEMENT - BALDERDASH

I received this in an email. Admittedly I have not checked the math. Not that that would help. I’m lousy at math. All I know is that this resonates with my spirit. I have said it before and I say it again. Social Security is not an entitlement program. That is my money they are still withholding I Paid social security for age 18 until age 58. I paid not social security for five years near the beginning while I was in school. I never made enough money after age 58 and began collecting social security at 62 so I could survive. So I paid into this “entitlement” program for 35 years and most of those years I paid the entire amount as no employer matched my funds. I was consider “self employed.”

They took my money with a promise the invest it and return it to me at retirement. Using the word “entitlement” is a manipulative attempt to make me and everyone else believe we are getting something for nothing. I am getting nothing for free. With my “benefits (both social security and medicare) I still do not come close to receiving the value of my investment minus any interest my money should have earned.

This is not an “entitlement,” it’s my money. The government forced me to contribute as an investment in my future retirement and now wants to steal what is left. Theives.

THE EMAIL

This is another example of what Rick Perry called "TREASON in high places"!!!

Remember, not only did you contribute to Social Security but your employer did too. It totaled 15% of your income before taxes. If you averaged only $30K over your working life, that's close to $220,500.

If you calculate the future value of $4,500 per year (yours & your employer's contribution) at a simple 5% (less than what the government pays on the money that it borrows), after 49 years of working you'd have $892,919.98.

If you took out only 3% per year, you'd receive $26,787.60 per year and it would last better than 30 years (until you're 95 if you retire at age 65) and that's with no interest paid on that final amount on deposit! If you bought an annuity and it paid 4% per year, you'd have a lifetime income of $2,976.40 per month.

The folks in Washington have pulled off a bigger Ponzi scheme than Bernie Madhoff ever had.

Entitlement my butt, I paid cash for my social security insurance!!!! Just because they borrowed the money, doesn't make my benefits some kind of charity or handout!!

Congressional benefits ---- free healthcare, outrageous retirement packages, 67 paid holidays, three weeks paid vacation, unlimited paid sick days, now that's welfare, and they have the nerve to call my social security retirement entitlements?

We're "broke" and can't help our own Seniors, Veterans, Orphans, Homeless.

In the last months we have provided aid to Haiti, Chile, and Turkey. And now Pakistan ......home of bin Laden. Literally, BILLIONS of DOLLARS!!!

Our retired seniors living on a 'fixed income' receive no aid nor do they get any breaks while our government and religious organizations pour Hundreds of Billions of $$$$$$'s and Tons of Food to Foreign Countries!

They call Social Security and Medicare an entitlement even though most of us have been paying for it all our working lives and now when it’s time for us to collect, the government is running out of money. Why did the government borrow from it in the first place? Imagine if the *GOVERNMENT* gave 'US' the same support they give to other countries.

Sad isn't it?

BIG MIRACLE AND OTHER THOUGHTS

I'm driving the BUS for The Home now. I like it. I have to pull myself up to get in the drivers seat. It is a little high. Then when I get out I have to get into position so I can drop to the ground about 8 inches. I do wish my legs were longer. We have had two successful outings with the wheelchairs going. You can’t believe how happy that makes me. We left twice before without those two as I could not get the lift to work. I cannot take the disappointment they faced. I think I have the lifts little secrets figured out now.

I got a note from My friend Brent that he and Liz, his wife, are extras in the movie Big Miracle. He was my roommate on my cruise to Alaska a few years back and then he and his wife moved to Alaska a few months later. They auditioned as extras and were accepted and appear in six or seven scenes. My whole family plans to go see Big Miracle on Tuesday as a family Valentines gift to each other. I was in Poulsbo with a group today just to look around and enjoy this quaint little tourist town so bought a few very nice chocolates for the night. We all plan to study Brent's appearance on the screen schedule so we don't miss him in the movie. I believe his longest time on screen is the restaurant scene behind Drew Barrymore. He and his wife are eating. I do wonder if they actually ate anything. We are all looking forward to it.

I preach again on this weekend. Brent sent me a note earlier talking about messy lives. I am using that as a theme for this series. No one gets through life without some mess or another. Mostly we all have several messes. No one is untouched. I will use examples from some of the great characters of Scripture: Adam and Eve (they first parents had their son kill his brother – how hard is that?), Abraham (the father of our faith told what we call a little white lie. Sarah was his sister, very far removed, but he neglected to mention she was also his wife), King David (where do we start – the man after God’s on heart was an adulterer a murderer, and a weak minded man when it came to his daughter’s rape), Peter (denied Christ three times – I have heard several people say “I would not have done that.” Really), Paul (He got so angry at Barnabas for wanting to take John Paul on a missionary trip, that it ended their team relationship, but expanded the mission), and maybe even my own life. I am starting with a clip from "Hoarders." I also took a few shots of my own apartment at it's worse, but don't know yet if I will use them. I suppose it will be a matter of whether I am willing to be embarrassed.

While I reconsidered off and on right up through Friday, I am not applying for the Resident Commissioners position with the Housing Authority. There is just way too much unknown. I have no idea what I would be getting into. While I would like to see some things changed, I like the ministry I have here. I have added driving the bus. That is enough for now.

Things are going fairly well around here. It’s calm. There were even two mortal enemies on the bus to Poulsbo today and were able to completely avoid each other so there were no conflicts. That's a step in the right direction.

I have also decided to return the PC computer I bought. Maybe I never said I bought a new computer, but I talked about it. I really cannot afford it. I will muddle along with my love-able old Mac. It may be on its last legs, but so am I. I will keep it until it dies. When that happens, I will most likely give up the newsletter I do and go back to using the Library computers for emails and blogs. When that happens I will save $50-60 on the cable line. That will be a good thing.

HOMELESS

I had every intention of writing last night, but I got so caught up in Richard LeMieux book “Breakfast at Sally’s” that I was up reading until nearly two o’clock a.m. and still didn‘t finish. So I just kept on reading this morning until I was done. What a book!

Richard gave me a whole new understanding of homelessness and the broken, depressed lives that haunt those streets. My heart began to break. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I clearly reconsidered those needy people and their struggles.

I have heard the complaints that they are lazy, dirty, stinky, disgusting excuses for human beings. They are nothing but drug addicts and alcoholics. Why don’t they get a job? Richard takes us on his year and half journey on the streets of Bremerton. He had a van to keep him dry (most of the time) and his dog Willow to keep him company. I wept for his deep depression and enormous rejection. He was a wealthy man who lost everything: his business, his wife and his children. Not him alone, but those he met.

With no home address, no phone and no bank account most essentials are blocked for them. Job applicants are told, “We’ll call you.” Apartments require first and last months rent and the present one. None have that kind of money. Richard tells the story of a physically deformed homeless man given a check for his birthday. A friend at a tire store have him $20 so he could buy a headset to listen to his country music. He was thrilled and asked if Richard would take him to the bank. They went where the signer had a bank account. They required two pieces of identification. He had one outdated bus pass. That was not good enough. I hate banks. I hate the rules had limit the needy. They had the power to see if that account had the money. But that was never considered.

I am a friend with Katrina who now lives at The Home. Before moving here she had lived in her van for nearly a year. She knows Richard and also knows all the places where to get a free warm meals. She has lived here nearly a year now and still struggles with deep depression, She has a broken down van that is not presently running and she does not have the money to have it repaired. She will not get rid of it because she fears she will be homeless again.

Katrina had a father who abused her, then a husband who repeated the horror. She ran. She was frightened and rightly so. I got to know her during the time she helped me on the bread runs. She required much of my patience. She is loud, dogmatic authoritative and a devoted democrat who is always right. She would not be making it now if it were not for government programs. In actuality, none of us in The Home would be here without government programs. I understand democrats a little better.

Katrina often runs to my apartment when she is nervous, upset or confused. Monday was one of those days. Her rent was increased by $40. She was panicked that homelessness was back in her future. The rent was raised, but she had not yet heard what her assistance would be. She can handle it for a while by cutting even more of her necessities back.

I have always known she was depressed and fearful. I am not sure I understood her fears. Her loudness comes from years of fighting and arguing with those in her life. Her desire to be accepted is so great she often jumps into conversations with very dogmatic statements and feels compelled to tell everyone how to do just about everything. That comes from her desire to be helpful. When she is instructing me about my health, good, and exercise — I listen and thank her whether it is helpful or not. She is very kind and gives to others beyond her means, She had volunteered for an extended time at The Salvation Army serving meals. She is a giver because she knows what it is to do without.

Many of the homeless view Jesus as one of them. He had no place to lay his head. He had no home and he was a wanderer not knowing from where his next meal would come. But most are angry with God. They are angry at the lack of compassion, understanding and kindness; but they mostly are angry with God for not helping them get out of their situation. God wants to help them, but He does it through people. Through me!

I am a changed person. Read the book.

A MEAL AND SALVATION

Today a group went for our monthly “Meal Out.” We went to the Airport Diner. They have the best fish and chips. I was approved to drive the company bus back in June, but this was just my second time on a trip. Finally letting me drive seemed to take forever.

The bus holds 14 people. We had fourteen sign up to go. However, we had one person drive. It ended up being a good thing. Maria is still made at me. This has been going on for nearly one year. She does not forgive and the bigger problem is that it is her fault. She had no intention of riding in the bus with me driving. I have to laugh. She acts like a child and pouts when I am around. I ran into her at the mailbox a couple of days ago and said, “Good Morning” as cheerfully as I could. She frowned and turned her head away and said nothing. I expected that. So when I left I said, “Now you have a wonderful day.” I am determined to treat her with love regardless of her responses. In fact, maybe she isn’t mad at me, but embarrassed by her own actions. I think I’ll choose to see it that way.

I have tried twice before to take wheelchairs on the bus, but the lift has never worked. Twice I have left a couple of wheelchair tenants while the rest went off. I hate that. But I have since learned all the little tricks to make that lift work. So I was very excited as Chas was able to go with us, and the Airport Diner is one of his favorite places. In fact, I was giddy. I had trouble with some of the straps that hold the chair in place. If I had two chairs, we would have had a problem. I could not find all the straps needed for two chairs.

I’m reading “Breakfast at Sally’s” by Richard LeMieux. Wish I could pronounce his last name. It is the story of a homeless man’s inspirational journey. He was homeless in Bremerton so the book is having a wonderful impact in our area.

I just finished the chapter titled “I Get Saved.” It reminded me of everything I hate about pushy overly religious churches. They over use the God word’s, which only makes me wonder if his faith is real. I was so irritated with the pastor that I wanted to go find him and punch his lights out. He owned a car dealership, repossessed cars and was a slum landlord. And he and his wife jetted all over the country for entertainment. He loved the shows in Las Vegas. I know all are not bad, but the way he talked about women I could see him going to gawk at the showgirls (my imagination). Worst was is clear distain for the poor,

Richard was asked to attend the church to meet a woman who was going to provide a dry place for him to live for a while. At the service he was called out by name to be saved. This tiny extreme Pentecostal church all ended up laying hands on him and praying for his salvation. The only way he could figure to end this was to “accept Jesus.” I didn’t blame him. I blamed the church. I know how he felt. I have had that same experience as a child. It is threatening. You come to Jesus out of fear, and rarely do it with a sincere heart.

You can’t hear my pain, anger and frustration, but emotionally I would like to put the church out of business. They call themselves Bible believing fundamentalist and I find that embarrassing. I want to find anew term to identify with. I think I’ll just call myself a God lover.

WE'RE PEOPLE TOO!

Katrina came to see me yesterday. She was confused about her February rent bill. She had made her normal monthly payment by the due date, but got a notice that she had not paid the full amount. She had contacted the office to find out why. She was told she had been sent a notice of a rent increase for an additional $40 a month. Se had not received the letter informing her of the change, so asked for a copy of the letter. She was given copies of two communications and they were both different. One was a year old. Strangely, it was the higher price. She read in one of the letters that the funding for this subsidized program would run out at the end of 2012. To even last till that point, rents had to be raised.

On the average, seniors received a social security increase of $35 a month this year. As soon as it was announced, we all wondered if we would have any more money with this increase, or would it all be taken away. The rent increase will consume it all and a little more. With the increase in income, several lost some of the food stamps money. Food had gone up. Most are literally further behind than last year.

We expected this. We were emotionally prepared for this. The rent increase is significantly higher than expected, but no one is shocked. Well, I am! Not at the rent increase that consumed the raise, but at how it is being handled. I will not be affected until November as I signed a year lease. But Katrina is the second person I know of who did not receive the notice of her rent increase and was asked to pay more, with the comment that they should have received notice. Maybe they should have, but they didn’t

Something is screwy in headquarters. We have always felt like they believed we were lucky and should be thankful that we have such a nice place to live. We are both lucky and thankful, but I believe we need to be treated as human beings — customers, not necessary evils. We are here because we need the financial assistance. That’s true, but it’s no excuse for treating us like we are a problem to them. If we left, they could fill our apartment immediately. So what. We all deserve respect, humane treatment, and kindness and dare I say love. All have suffered loss. Most are widowed. They have never been on their own before getting here. Many have never handled their finances. Many do not understand what is going on or why these things are happening and management is not telling anyone anything. “Read your contract” does not help. It may give them the right, but many don’t understand why the increase is so steep, or why no one will talk to them. This is the generation of direct and personal communication. They don‘t email and they don’t text. When they write a letter, they expect and answer. Being ignored is annoying.

I have been here three years. I have never met a board member and have not met the new hosing director or any of her immediate staff and she has been her since September, in another building of course. Our on site manager may not listen to us about any problems or concerns we have. It must be in writing so it can go to the big boys and girls. No one who has ever done that has had a response.

They are currently looking for applicants to serve on the Housings Board of Directors. They sent an application to everyone, but did not include a job description or outline of expectations. No one knows what the board does. If I believed there was even the slightest possibility of making life better for our people, I would apply even though I am “committeed” out after the hundreds I had sat in on. Too much talk and not enough action! The resident committee member is appointed. All the rest are elected. Most likely more concerned about reelection than people. I’m an old Christian education pastor and teacher. I still believe everything is about people, not programs. Regretfully we have no sense that the people here matter at all. Government — you can’t live with them and you can’t live without them.

THREE TOPICS, ONE NOTE

I want to write tonight but am having a hard time focusing the right subject. Several are running through my head and none are stopping long enough for me to grab hold and go for the ride.

I mentioned that my dietician was concerned that my blood sugar readings were too low. So without consulting with my doctor I am conducting my own little experiment. I had already figured out that if I had low blood sugar numbers two hours after the evening meal, I needed to eat to keep the number high enough so as not to nearly faint. As a result I was defeating my weight loss goal. For the past few days, I have stopped taking my insulin at night and have not been eating after supper. The result is that I am not waking up in the middle of the night with low blood sugar and I am not waking up multiple times to go to the bathroom. I am also beginning to lose some weight. Minor, but a start. Also, I feel better. I have believed I have been over medicated for a long time. He and I are going to have a serious talk at my next appointment.

I blew it this morning at coffee during a discussion of what kind of fruit Adam and Eve ate. There were some interesting suggestions. All decided it was not an apple. I don’t know why they did that. Every picture I ever saw was of them eating an apple. Can all those artists be wrong? I cannot remember how the conversation shifted, but we moved on to a simple discussion of the first couple. One of our women always (yes always) expresses her opinion in a strong way with a tone that says I have spoken and that it the final word. Few ever challenge her as she will argue to the end that she is right — and she keeps getting louder and only gives up when everyone else shuts up. In her very dogmatic way she pronounced that Eve was Adam’s second wife. I was so dumbfounded I turned to her and said, “Where or earth did you ever get that absolutely ridiculous idea,” then explained the rib being taken from Adam and Eve being created. Maybe others of you have heard that second wife idea but that was a first for me and I felt that if it wasn’t challenged some would begin to wonder if it might be true. She answered my question with, “From my childhood.” This was the first time I ever heard her stop arguing. The discussion ended with everyone around the table confirming that they understood Eve was number one. I could not believe my ears and was ready to pull out the Bible and take they through Genesis 2-3.

The California Supreme courts decision this morning announcing that it was unconstitutional to have a referendum on Gay marriage so they overturned the previous decision to ban same sex marriage, mucked up my hackles – whatever those are. To me, it was just one more place where government was getting into it with the churches. I thought there was a separation of church and state. Technically, these may not be religious issue vs. the state, but it sure raises the roof in religious circles. The Catholic Church, The Mormon Church and National Association of Evangelicals have already spoken out. This may have even raised the profile of Mitt Romney, as he was very outspoken against gay marriage. It may have also sealed his fate with that voter group.

I spent a fair amount of time trying to see if scripture defines marriage. It doesn’t, but it has plenty to say about same sex relationships, and it is not supportive. In scripture all marriage in used in terms of a man and a woman. That is also true historically, culturally and politically. To me, marriage is just one more word the rainbow coalition wants to reinvent. They have already confiscated “gay,” “rainbow” and now they want marriage. I for one want them to have equal governmental rights. That would not benefit them alone, but same sex heterosexuals who share a life and home together. But I object to the term marriage being used. I don’t know what is wrong with civil union. I am sure they want to feel equal with heterosexuals. I will go along with that as soon as they produce offspring without outside help.. Leave “marriage” alone. They already have all the rights they have fought for in California. Find another word or expression like “shacking –up.”

A NEWER COMPUTER

I decided on Friday that I would bite the bullet and get myself a PC. I was feeling that I maybe a little too ignorant about this strange new piece of technology, at least strange to me. I have become so use to the Mac and having played a little of some PC’s I still liked my old faithful best. But old faithful is clearly coming to the end of its usefulness. It is close to losing its life. I need to determine where the best location is to bury the poor baby.

My Mac is acting weird. Periodically, little boxes appear in funky places for no reason known to me. When I open my emails, the screen automatically drops to the bottom of the page. No, I don’t know why. It takes a while to get the page to stay at the top so I can get into the new material. The sound now tells me everything it is doing: what is opening, closing, the title, etc. I have turned the sound off because it is so annoying. I mentioned before that I have ruined the screen. It is so scratched up I struggle to read some things, especially in daylight.

I began my search for a computer on the computer. I found the article “The Basics of Buying a Personal Computer” I am only leaving my Mac because of cost. Being on a limited income automatically removes the possibility of upgrading to a new Mac. So here I am, choosing to get a PC computer I would rather not, but am practical enough to know my limits. If I want a newer computer, I must move to a PC. It sucks.

I know what some things mean but “core” was new to me. It was introduced in 2006 and refers to the number of processors in the machine. That was also new. You can get anywhere from one to four processors in the core. I’m still not real clear on why I need more than one, but the more powerful the computer the more cores it needs, I think!

I figured that i3, i5, i7 had do with something getting more powerful or at least costing more. Both are correct. Mine does not say it is i7, but it has four cores. I learned quickly that if I did not buy the latest technology, but one that was just once removed from the current models I could save a pile of money. Often more than 50%, so once I got all my information clearly in mind, I looked for a next step down from brand new.

At Best Buy, the models were clearly separated. I stayed in the second tier aisle. I looked at every computer and managed to determine the 2 or 3 most powerful machines available. All their computers were more economical than two others stores I visited. My kids also told me to check there. I would get the best help with them.

I had pretty much settled on two computers when a woman next to me grabbed a salesman and asked way more questions than had ever crossed my mind. She had this poor guy tied up for twenty minutes or so. I could have easily cut that in half by asking her to stop being so repetitious. That didn’t happen. When she was done and walked way without purchasing anything, all I needed to know was the clear distinction between the one she was interested in and the one next to it. These were my top two choices.

I told him exactly what I wanted to use the computer for and what I thought I needed (wanted): Word, Quicken and a very good graphic program — preferable Photoshop. I didn’t tell him I preferred Photoshop, but he said there was nothing better. However, I would need to upgrade the memory. Well, I didn’t do that and I didn’t buy Photoshop, Word or Quicken. I decided to learn more about this new fangled piece of plastic before going hog wild. I had already decided to work both machines for a while and gradually shift over completely to PC. The computer has a simple modified version of Word (I will need the full program in time). I will purchase Quicken ASAP to keep my finances straight.

My pastor owned and operated his own sign shop and does beautiful graphic work. So I asked him what design programs he used. Photoshop. There is nothing better. He knows what I do and he does not believe I would be satisfied with anything else. He is going to help me get an older version (cheaper). I can then upgrade later, if I need to.

So I came home with HP. My kids came over to help get it set up. I am going to have to get a wireless connection. I had planned to simply switch the Internet connection between the two, but the plug to my desktop is very difficult to reach. If the other costs too much, I may have to relocate my CPU. But I think I would rather sit in my recliner to play on the computer.

I’m slow at getting things up and running fully. It will take time, but then, what else do I have.

FALSE ALARM

I am really not very forgetful, but I did it again. I set off the smoke detector in my apartment. It’s stupid, but I told Martin (our really great maintenance man) that I keep doing it so he will have job security. We all really like him and want to keep him a long time. I set if off so he will have something to do. Many maintenance men have of come and gone and I have only been here three years.

I set it off twice in the first week of Martin being on the job. Then I set if all again within his first month.

You would think this isn’t a big deal, but it is. The alarm can only be turned off from a master control switch locked away that only Martin can enter. He has to be called. No one here has his number, so we have to call the maintenance hotline that then they track him down on his handy-dandy cell phone. At least yesterday he was on the grounds. The second and third time he was off the grounds and it was not during work hours. Once he was with family and the other time I pulled him out of church.

Now the master alarm cannot be shut off until the smoke clears in my apartment so as to stop my personal inside alarm from screaming. I actually caught this problem before the alarm was triggered. I smelled it, jumped up, ran over, turned the exhaust fan back on the stove and throught all was well. No! It was still set off.

The same thing caused my alarm to screech on all four occasions. The first three times I chalked it up to stupidity, carelessness and — lets not get into it. Each time it went off after I finished cooking a meal. I thought I was turning my stove stop top off, but instead I turned it to the highest setting. You would think I would have smelt it in plenty of time. The apartment is small, but sinuses keep me from noticing. This was the first time I caught it before the alarm went off.

There are important procedures to follow when this happens, and it happens often around here. 1) Do not open your door. Initially the alarm is only going off in the apartment where the smoke originates and in the master control room where there is only a beep. In my apartment it is an ear blasting sound designed to make us all deaf. If you open the door and the smoke hits the detectors in the hallways, alarms ring all over the building. Then there should be an evacuation and the fire trucks come automatically. That has happened, but not with me. The irony of this procedure is that no one leaves the building. They go looking for where the problem began. I am sure that if they saw flames they would leave. At least I think they would. Who really knows?

2) One should open all their windows. 3) Turn on all fans. We have one built in the bathroom. I have two other floor models that I quickly put in the windows. It still takes a long time to clear the smoke. In the meantime I was getting a headache, 3) All through the days, others will be asking if you did it, why you did it and then laughing at you, not with you.

Well something different happened after this experience. I told Martin that when I finished cooking my breakfast eggs, I know I turned the switch off. I thought I had done that on all occasions. When I heard the click, I left. Instead of going off, it locked onto the highest heat. Martin and I got playing with the switch and found it to be defective. He is going to change it out. I will have no more excuses.

So there! It wasn’t really my fault and I took all this time to simply say, my smoke detector when off and it wasn’t my fault.” But where’s the fun in that.

NEXT BLOG: I bought a computer

NEVER TO OLD TO LEARN

I went to see my dietician this morning. It’s way cool to have a one on one with someone who can help me get a handle on what to eat and what not to eat. I like that guy who wrote all the books on “Eat This Not That,” but I can’t remember any of that when I’m shopping. I am trying to get better principles stuck in my head, permanently.

I am on a limited salt diet now and all my friends said, “Why don’t you try sea salt, It’s different than real salt.” Ahah! They’re wrong. After today’s meeting all I can say is baloney. They are the same. Sea Salt is just trendy and highly promoted. Sodium is sodium. Sea sale granules are just bigger. There goes that recommendation. Foiled again by people who I call friends.

She gave me a sheet that lists spices that can be paired with various meets. I love that. Now I can add something other than salt and pepper. I like to add a little flavor to my food and this gives me great direction. I have never known what spices work with what foods, and because I don’t want to waste food, I don’t experiment too often. .That has limited me to about a half dozen spices. I can hardly wait to begin the experiments. I don’t know why the hospital or my doctor didn’t help me with this, but I got what I need now. Yeah!

I am a very trusting person. That’s good and bad. I don’t always ask the questions I should. She is in disagreement with my doctor on the number range that should concern me with my sugar count. I have been with three other doctors since I have had diabetes. They all agree with her guidelines. The problem is that when my tests two-hours after supper are under 110, I know they will be between 40 and 70 in the morning or I will be woke in the middle of the night with those low number. If you don’t know, when it gets that low I am dizzy with black spots in front of me. In other words I am getting near to passing out. Whoa! That brought me up short. I always assumed I was doing something wrong. Of course, when I eat after the evening test it is to raise my numbers. I am counteracting any weight lose. That explains a lot.

I am so dumb. I should have dealt with this a long time ago. Maybe my dad was right. “It had better be really serious to go to a doctor. They are just too expensive”. When I was ten or eleven I was cutting the outline of a six shooter (cowboys were big when I was a kid – Roy Roger, Gene Autry, Hop-a-long Cassidy). My parents were not going to buy me a toy gun, but dad was letting me cut one out on the gig-saw and than I was going to shape it with files. My hand slipped and my right thumb hit the blade and bounced off when it got to the bone. Blood was gushing and dad wrapped a rag around it. When the bleeding slowed down he took me inside and cleaned the wound and wrapped it up good. “You’ll be fine.” He was right about that. It healed and I had a cool scare to show my friends. My dad n ever seemed to care whether there were scares as long as I was going to live. He didn’t treat me any different than himself, but I swear he handled pain better than anyone I ever knew. He would dig splinters out with his pocketknife – fortunately, only on himself.

They even took me to a family dentist who did not use anything to deaden pain. He didn’t believe in it. I didn’t know any better. You just gripped the arms and hung on for dear life. I didn’t know there was Novocain until I was married and needed a dentist on my own. Of course, I still hold on for dear life even though there is no pain. Its just habit! But I come out with strained hands and arms from squeezing till I leave handprints in the hard plastic. Those were what old people call “The good old days.” I at least laught about it — now!

It’s amazing what we learn from our youth that hangs on through out life. Some of out habits are pretty strange.

WHAT NEXT

OK, here it is, the latest you should…or you will die. I’ve got bad news for everyone. You are going to die no matter what you eat. I’m already off sugar (he, he), have lowered my salt intake and am trying to avoid fat. You know what happens when you do all that. Your food no longer has any taste. Apparently, if you want to have a long life — eat cardboard. I’ve tasted pizza that I am sure is made of cardboard

Sugar Should Be Regulated As Toxin, Researchers Say

A spoonful of sugar might make the medicine go down. But it also makes blood pressure and cholesterol go up, along with your risk for liver failure, obesity, heart disease and diabetes.

Sugar and other sweeteners are, in fact, so toxic to the human body that they should be regulated as strictly as alcohol by governments worldwide, according to a commentary in the current issue of the journal Nature by researchers at the University of California, San Francisco (UCSF).

Oh boy! Am I in trouble! Between the church, the scientists, the doctors and my friends, there is very little I can do. Read on. My old high school friend sent this to me.

IF I CAUSED THE FOLLOWING, I AM VERY SORRY.

BEGINNING 2012

As we progress through the beginning of 2012, I want to thank you for your educational e-mails over the past year. I am totally screwed up now--- have little chance of recovery. 



I can no longer open a bathroom door without using a paper towel, nor let the waitress put lemon slices in my ice water without worrying about the bacteria on the lemon peel. 



I can't sit down on a hotel bedspread because I can only imagine what has happened on it since it was last washed. 



I have trouble shaking hands with someone who has been driving because the number one pastime while driving alone is picking one's nose. 



Eating a little snack sends me on a guilt trip because I can only imagine how many gallons of trans fats I have consumed over the years. 



I can't touch any woman's handbag for fear she has placed it on the floor of a public toilet. 



I must send my special thanks for the email about rat poo in the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet sponge with every envelope that needs sealing. 



ALSO, now I have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason. 



I can't have a drink in a bar because I fear I'll wake up in a bathtub full of ice with my kidneys gone. 



I can't eat at KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes, feet or feathers. 



I can't use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day. 



Thanks to you I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward an e-mail to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes. 



Because of your concern, I no longer drink Coca Cola because it can remove toilet stains. 



I no longer buy fuel without taking someone along to watch the car, so a serial killer doesn't crawl in my back seat when I'm filling up. 



I no longer use Cling Wrap in the microwave because it causes seven different types of cancer. 



And thanks for letting me know I can't boil a cup of water in the microwave anymore because it will blow up in my face, disfiguring me for life. 



I no longer go to the cinema because I could be pricked with a needle infected with AIDS when I sit down. 



I no longer go to shopping centers because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me. 



And I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a number for which I will get a huge phone bill with calls Jamaica, Uganda, Singapore and Uzbekistan. 
 


Thanks to you I can't use anyone's toilet but mine because a big black snake could be lurking under the seat and cause me instant death when it bites my butt. 



And thanks to your great advice I can't ever pick up a dime coin dropped in the car park because it was probably placed there by a sex molester waiting to grab me as I bend over. 



I can't do any gardening because I'm afraid I'll get bitten by the Violin Spider and my hand will fall off. 



If you don't send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 70 minutes, a large dove with diarrhea will land on your head at 5:00 p.m. tomorrow afternoon, and the fleas from 120 camels will l infest your back, causing you to grow a hairy hump. I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my next-door neighbor’s ex mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's best friend's beautician! 



Oh, and by the way...

A German scientist from Argentina, after a lengthy study, has discovered that people with insufficient brain activity read their e-mails with their hand on the mouse. 

 Don't bother taking it off now, it's too late. 



P. S. I now keep my toothbrush in the living room, because I was told by e-mail that water splashes over 6 ft. out of the toilet.

THE SEARCH FOR A NEW COMPUTER

I don’t think my computer is long for this world. It works — sorta, but it is acting up as bad as a two year old.

I have always been a Mac guy. When I got started with computers I visited a number of stores to try and get a feel for what a computer really was and what it did. More importantly, how did it work and could I work it. You would have thought I crossed the border into some foreign country. I could not understand the language and did not have a book to help me translate. I asked several times if they spoke English and all assured me they did, but then they would launch into this gobble-di-gook that had no relation to the language I knew and understood. It was even worse when they would have me sit in front of a computer and follow the steps as they attempted to explain them. Where is my sledgehammer?

I have never been good with foreign languages and it didn’t take me long to decide I did not have time to return to school and learn this new forked tongue. Frankly, I gave up on computers.

Jim Sellers was pastor of the Portland church at the time and served on the district board. He kept saying, try a Macintosh. Finally he convinced the board to let him get one and bring it in for us to try. He could not have arrived at a worse time. We were working on our district newsletter. We did it the old fashioned way with scissors and glue. Good old cut and paste.

Believe it or not, I took a course in “commercial art” (no called graphic art) at the University of Omaha. My dream was to become an architect, but I thought this would be a great backup plan. I had wanted to be an architect since I was twelve. I bought house plan books while my friend bought comic books. It was OK, I always read their comics. Wouldn’t you know it! I washed out in architecture (but meet a lot of girls in the interior decorating class -only boy in a class of 100). At the same time, the shoe store where I worked asked me to consider management training. If I did, I would have my own store in less than a year in any part of the USA I wanted. Being one who tended to take the path of least resistance, I took that path and abandoned all hope of my eight-year-old dreams.

Obviously God had other plans. Eight months later I left Omaha to experience the great white north — skiing, skating, snowmen, snow forts, etc. I could hardly wait to be in the mountains. Omaha is flat as a pancake.

Omaha is a waffle compared to Saskatchewan. I should have looked that up in some picture book. Every photo I had even seen of Canada included Mountains. I was tricked.

After a few years of confinement in the monastery for the socially ignorant, I went into church work and began using all my U of O training (without extra pay).

I do get off track, don’t I? When Jim brought the Mac in, he sat me down and stayed with me for a couple of days and we produced our Newletter on that little box of a machine. Now having some computer literacy I know I can no longer afford Mac. I want it, but we don’t always get what we want. It’s not fair. Life isn’t fair. Guess what. I have to learn a whole new language AGAIN. I have some better comprehension, but there are too many options. They say, “What components do you require?” How do I know? What can I get that I can move the hundreds of Mac photos and artwork I have on my hard drive and CD’s? Nothing. Huh! You mean it would be like starting all over and rescanning everything? I could not use any of the formats I have saved for future use? WHAT!

So, yes, I am frustrated. I have a couple of speaking engagements coming up and will be able to afford a low-end computer. But I then have to buy programs. At a minimum I need (want) Word and Photoshop. Photoshop will cost more than the computer. I’m stuck. At least I feel stuck. What happened to packing word processing programs with computers?

I am not going to give up. I am reading “Understanding Computers for Seniors”. Helpful. What I really want is for someone to do all the work for me and just tell me what to do. I know that doesn’t work. I’ll keep studying and then find a translator to go shopping with me. I already know that person does not live here. I’ll ask around church.

BOREDOM

It’s been boring around here lately. I went to coffee yesterday and there was nobody there. Well, I was there. It happened again today — and we get a delivery from the food bank today” bread and sweets, always several days old. That is the only thing that keeps me from pigging out. Maybe not the only thing. As I was leaving, one personal arrived. I kept on going. I had already been there 30 minutes.

I blew it on Sunday. I don’t consider that I’m on a diet. I don’t use that word. When I spoke about diet in the past it was only a few days before I shut my mouth because I had fallen off the wagon. When you’re not on a wagon, it is very hard to fall off. While I didn’t fall off the wagon, I changed my eating habit — temporarily I hope.

I really didn’t plan to mess up. I know there have been times in the past that I have planned to abandon all hope, but this time it came from boredom. I don’t usually eat when I’m reading. I hate getting messy fingers all over the book. It smudges the pages and makes it hard to read. That’s the same reason I don’t like to dog-ear my books. I don’t know why this matters to me; I’m really quite sloppy. I’ve got this pile of Christmas decorations still lying on the floor of my bedroom. It would take five minutes to put away, but — I guess I don’t have time.

What a joke. That’s all I do have. The main commodity of retirement is time. But if you listen around, you would never believe it. They are all busy. Everyone but me. I asked a member of the new activities committee if she wanted to ride out to Poulsbo with me to check out where we will be able to park the bus when we take a group there next month. She could not go because she had such a busy day. She had dishes in the sink and needed to clean her apartment. If I were to wash dishes everyday (I don’t), they would be done in just a few moments. For me, I want to make a big deal out of dish washing so I wait until I have no clean dishes left. That way, washing dishes is an important and meaningful task. It’s an event. I need more events in my life.

When I clean house, it is also an event. It takes time because the older I get the less the mess bothers me. I suppose there is something wrong with this picture. I am very aware that cleanliness is next to Godliness. I have been trying to figure out how clean things were in Biblical times. You know, when they lived in the open, or in tents, or houses with dirt floors. I know I have less dirt than a house with a dirt floor. At least I think I do.

Maybe you noticed that I did not finish the story about messing up, messy fingers and what I ate. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. But I made popcorn. I know, I know. Popcorn is a healthy snack. Not always. I love it with real butter and salt. The butter is less of a problem than salt. I must watch my salt intake. I was careful. I didn’t use nearly the amount of salt as in the past. But I could certainly taste it. I even rubbed the edges of the bowl with a few kernels to get every bit of salt I could. Do you know that feeling of having both guilt and joy. It was wonderful. But I will not fail again — At least not for a while.

A friend sent this little note to me and I thought I would pass it along. I liked it.

UP


Read until the end ... you’ll laugh UP a storm. 




This two-letter word in English has more meanings than any other two-letter word, and that word is ‘ UP ’. It is listed in the dictionary as an [adv], [prep], [adj], [n] or [v].





It’s easy to understand UP, meaning toward the sky or at the top of the list, but when we awaken in the morning, why do we wake UP? At a meeting, why does a topic come UP? Why do we speak UP, and why are the officers UP for election (if there is a tie, it is a toss UP) and why is it UP to the secretary to write UP a report? We call UP our friends, brighten UP a room, polish UP the silver, warm UP the leftovers and clean UP the kitchen. We lock UP the house and fix UP the old car. 





At other times, this little word has real special meaning. People stir UP trouble, line UP for tickets, work UP an appetite, and think UP excuses. To be dressed is one thing but to be dressed UP is special. And this UP is confusing: A drain must be opened UP because it is blocked UP. We open UP a store in the morning but we close it UP at night. We seem to be pretty mixed UP about UP! 





To be knowledgeable about the proper uses of UP, look UP the word UP in the dictionary. In a desk-sized dictionary, it takes UP almost 1/4 of the page and can add UP to about thirty definitions. If you are UP to it, you might try building UP a list of the many ways UP is used. It will take UP a lot of your time, but if you don’t give UP, you may wind UP with (UP to) a hundred or more. When it threatens to rain, we say it is clouding UP. When the sun comes out, we say it is clearing UP. When it rains, it soaks UP the earth. When it does not rain for a while, things dry UP. One could go on and on, but I’ll wrap it UP, for now . . . my time is UP! Oh . . . one more thing:

Did that one crack you UP? Don’t screw UP. Send this link to everyone you look UP in your address book . . . or not . . . it’s UP to you. 



Now I’ll shut UP!

THOSE WILD EMOTIONS

I love to see genuine, uncontrollable emotion. I love it in all forms. Uncontrollable laughter. Unbridled enthusiasm. Profound grief without anger, and emotion that wells up in your throat and stops the words.

It’s been a long time since laughter has taken total control. Maybe I have seen too much and heard too much, but I miss that surprise that sends me into laughter than makes my eyes water and nose run (strange mixture). You see unbridled enthusiasm at sports events and you will see it on Super Bowl Sunday. But it is an incredible gift in the eyes of a child when grandpa tells them he is taking them to Disneyland. Grief in its purest form is a tribute to love. The tears flow and cannot be stopped as the loss is so profound. C.S. Lewis expressed it this way, “We hurt so much because we loved so much.” Then there is the emotion that sneaks up on you and catches you by surprise.

If you remember the old telephone commercials produced before cell phones and we were all tied to land lines. When I went off to college mother told me to write often but don’t call unless it was an emergency. Phone calls were too expensive. So, many did not make too many calls and we all tried to avoid the long distance calls, especially if money was tight. Those 30-60 second commercials got me in the tear ducts every time. “He called home.” That’s the right phrase. It was usually a son calling his mother. We are the neglectful ones, rarely the daughters.

I love it when it happens in church. It tells me the speaker feels this very deeply. It has touched his or her heart. It catches them on a level they did not expect and they communicate that response on a level deeper than words can express. That happened to my full loving, happy-go-lucky, exuberant pastor this morning and I heard his heart deeper than ever before.

When I speak I can rarely get though a talk without that happening to me. There are times I wish it didn’t happen. There are times I am embarrassed because I didn’t expect it would happen. It usually comes in connection with a story. For me it has to do with talking about my family.

That is not the only times, of course. Either my tear ducts are getting bigger or I am becoming a big bag of sentiment. When I got home from church and prepared lunch I sat down to eat and watch TV. I turned on pair’s figure skating. The couple they just introduced were third or fourth after the short program and not expected to climb above second. Everything was great as they started and they just got better and better and more perfect as they went. When it was over they were embracing unbridled joy and my tears rejoiced with them. Then when they won I gulped a few times trying to stop the water works. If I counted all the times in a day that my emotions bring me to a tear or two there would be a dozen on more.

Before our pastor spoke I was about to take the offering with a mother and her seven or eight year old son working with her. The pastor acknowledged the “usher in training.” And used it to talk about all of us using our time to step in. He then asked the boy if he wanted to pray for the offering and much to the pastor’s surprise, he said yes. Tears instantly came to my eyes. It was touching and beautiful. He had one very proud mom, and there was a very proud congregation as well.

I got caught with a lump in my throat a few more times in that figure skating program. I even ached with each fall. A few weeks back my granddaughter played in a semi-final soccer match. If they won they advanced to the finals. The teams were tied at the end of regulation time and she had scored both points for her team. There was a shoot out to determine the winner. Five players for each team would take turns kicking. Grace was first. She missed, as did the next nine. The final shot was by the opposing team and she hit the mark. That was a good reason to cry with her. Weep with those who weep.

But here’s the kicker. I was watching NCIS Miami tonight. A routine program, but two potential suspects were twins separated at birth. The victim was their sperm donor dad and both had contact with him. One needed his birth dad for a liver transplant. Both families were at the station and at the end both were put in the same van together for a ride home. I know it was written to make us feel this way, but you could see it in the eyes of the health one. He knew he could save the life of his before unknown brother. They got in the van and are looking at one another and the door closes and the program ends. I cry. It’s s dumb TV program. Nothing is real. It’s pretend and I still cry for the dying boy and the healthy one’s growing love for his brother.

Get a grip. I must have been saving up tears for years because they pour out for the least little thing. It was a TV show I was barely watching. I was trying to read a compelling book at the same time. I barely knew what was happening, but that moment got me. We are emotional beings. I love that about people. I could do without the anger, but its all part of the package that God gave us all. We just have different amounts of each. Anybody want some of my tears?

FAIR PRICING

“NEW YORK (AP) -- J.C. Penney is permanently marking down all of its merchandise by at least 40 percent so shoppers no longer have to wait for sales to get bargains.

Penney said Wednesday that it is getting rid of the hundreds of sales it offers each year in favor of a simpler approach to pricing. Starting on Feb. 1, the retailer is rolling out an “Every Day” pricing strategy with much fewer sales throughout the year”

No everyone will be happy about this, but I say YEAH! I realize I may be standing alone, but I applaud their decision to offer what, on the surface, appears to be true pricing. Now I want everyone else to follow suit.

Many sales are a problem for seniors on fixed incomes. If you know the sale is coming it may not be so bad, but if it falls at the wrong time of the month, a senior can feel screwed. Most of us get one check a month. If the deep discount sale is not shortly thereafter, we have nothing left for the sale,

I have always known items are outrageously priced and when they get down to the sales, they are getting closer to the fair price. I know businesses need to make money, but the price gouging leaves the low income and even many of the middle income out of the picture. Add technology to the purchasing mix – forget that. Anything you buy is outdated by the time you get it home. So get ready to spend another $1,000 and in the next six months to get the new and better and one with more gadgets.

I have an ancient computer — ten years old. There is nothing portable about it. In fact, I now need a family member to come and move it if that becomes necessary. I can no longer watch videos. They jerk, stop and my computer spits out a sign telling me I need to upgrade to the latest version. I don’t mind doing that, but I can’t. The company tells me my computer system is not compatible. So I go back to Apple to upgrade my system. We’re sorry. Your computer can no longer be upgraded. You need to BUY a new computer.

I am most likely at fault. I did not keep up with all the little improvements along the way. Frankly, I didn’t have the money to upgrade every six months. I used to keep up — when I had some extra money which maybe why I’m sort now. But the last time I made a major system change all my programs needed to be upgraded too. Yikes. I should have bought a car.

I am a capitalist. I want business to make money. However, I am sick and tire of everyone trying to topple Bill Gates and be the richest person. I am glad Bill Gates is beginning to give some of that money away, but there is a better and simpler way and it may have even made their product available to more people. This is just a thought. Try fair pricing. When production costs go down, lower your price. Make a product that does not become obsolete in six months. Does anyone really need a billion dollars – well maybe if you want gas for your car and need to get groceries, but that’s another issue.

You guys are all genus’s and becoming billionaires faster than I change clothes. Can’t any of you figure out how to let the old items you made your billion off continue to work?

I liked my Mac. I loved my Mac. I am getting closer and closer to the day that the best use may be as a step stool — a very expensive step stool. But it will be too heavy for me to move it around. I haven’t checked into all the costs of upgrading all the programs associated with what I like to do. I know some of them no longer exist. But when you finally make it impossible to send emails, read news items, do the newsletter and posters I do for the residents at my apartments using my old Photoshop and no longer available Freehand I suppose I will need a computerized casket so my living friends and family can talk to the dead. I may as well sign up for one of those cremation services. A lot of companies want to burn me up but I never get notices about being buried. I suppose even that is becoming passé.

WHOSE ON THE BUS

To help save the economy, the Government will announce next month that the Immigration Department will start deporting seniors (instead of illegals) in order to lower Social Security and Medicare costs.

Older people are easier to catch and will not remember how to get back home.

I started to cry when I thought of you.

Then it dawned on me ... oh, crap...

I'll probably see you on the bus!

Friends sent me the above photo with the attached story floating around the net to ask if I knew any of these people. Here is my response:

FRONT ROW LEFT TO RIGHT: Frieda an unrelenting flirt, Hazel who is always complaining about her back, Yolanda happy on the outside, but a huge gossip who, I believe makes up stories. And Rita looks sweeter than she is. Actually very nice, but can rip you apart in seconds with the mouth of a sailor (teens these days).

SECOND ROW L-R: Gwendolyn, don’t know much. She keeps to her self. I’m actually surprised she is on this trip. Someone must have dragged her from her apartment. Myrtle is a great cook, but her food is a little too spicy for my tastes.

THIRD ROW L-R: Elmer is likeable. When he first moved in the women were all over him. He said he was gay. I don’t believe it. I think he just said that to get them off his back. Across from him is Harold who was a professional racecar driver – so far back I’m not sure he really remembers the truth of the tales he tells. And he will tell tales. Don’t ask any questions or you may never escape his auto stories.

FOURTH ROW L-R Edith and Roger Mossman the only married couple. When his wife does not come down with him for coffee he flirts with all the women. Across the aisle is Carol one of the happiest people I know. She has a mild case of Alzheimer’s and everyday everyone is new to here. She just loves meeting new people. But brace yourself. She will ask the same questions everyday. Hope you like to talk about where you lived and what you did and how long you have been here in prison.

Thats the last row I can make out. The rest are too small or too covered up to make out except for Harriet on the far back right. She is definitely trying to get married again and she will take any man who can still walk and not dependent on depends.

The above is all fiction. I do not have the slightest idea who any of those people are. There was a time my job had me in a number of airports waiting on connections. I enjoyed watching people and making up stories about who they were, where they were going and why. This is an extension of that fun activity.

PAM'S STORY

Tis story is worth being passed on. It will touch your heart.

"In a recent email, I read about a woman named Pam who knows the pain of considering abortion. More than 24 years ago, she and her husband Bob were serving as missionaries to the Philippines and praying for a fifth child.


"Pam contracted amoebic dysentery, an infection of the intestine caused by a parasite found in contaminated food or drink. She went into a coma and was treated with strong antibiotics before they discovered she was pregnant. Doctors urged her to abort the baby for her own safety and told her that the medicines had caused irreversible damage to her baby. She refused the abortion and cited her Christian faith as the reason for her hope that her son would be born without the devastating disabilities physicians predicted. Pam said the doctors didn't think of it as a life, they thought of it as a mass of fetal tissue. While pregnant, Pam nearly lost their baby four times but refused to consider abortion. She recalled making a pledge to God with her husband: If you will give us a son, we'll name him Timothy and we'll make him a preacher. Pam ultimately spent the last two months of her pregnancy in bed and eventually gave birth to a healthy baby boy August 14, 1987. Pam's youngest son is indeed a preacher. He preaches in prisons, makes hospital visits, and serves with his father's ministry in the Philippines. He also plays football. Pam's son is Tim Tebow. The University of Florida 's star quarterback became the first sophomore in history to win college football's highest award, the Heisman Trophy. His current role as quarterback of the Denver Broncos has provided an incredible platform for Christian witness. As a result, he is being called The Mile-High Messiah. Tim's notoriety and the family's inspiring story have given Pam numerous opportunities to speak on behalf of women’s’ centers across the country. Pam Tebow believes that every little baby you save matters.

"He's being mocked and ridiculed but he keeps bending that knee!!! PRAISE GOD!"

BEING THE GOAT

I like football. I’m not a fanatic. I’m not even committed to one particular team. I haven’t had a special team I favored since I left the Saskatchewan Roughriders (Canada for my American friends). I just like a good game, cool plays and a close contest.

There are times I just get too emotional over things I see on TV. I was watching the New England Patriots play the Baltimore Raven’s earlier today and in the last few seconds the Raven’s were marching to the end zone looking to win the game. It seemed possible, but they were stopped and in the last eleven seconds Raven’s kicker Billy Cundiff was sent to tie the game with a 32-yard field goal attempt. He missed. The distance was doable. No one doubted he would make it. The looks on player’s faces on both teams told the story. Shock. No one could believe it. His mistake sent the Patriots to the Super Bowl.

I’m sure Patriot fans were thrilled. Raven fans heartbroken. I watched the few images of Billy leaving the field and wondered what he felt. Like Charlie Brown from Peanuts has experienced — it’s tough being the goat.

I do not know what will be said to Billy, or how many will say it. Can he handle the comments? What about the stares? Will he turn on the sports commentators who will retell his error repeatedly and for many years to come? If he has friends like some I have had, they will remind him more times than he will care to hear.

We have all made mistakes. With all the camera videos around it is possible that some of our bloopers will be taped and played for all to see (if I were a delivery person I would never throw a package over a fence). However, in most cases only a handful will see or know of our embarrassment, shame or sin, We have made many more “errors” that occurred in private and we want them to stay that way. Only we know about them — and God of course.

I would say I am surprised how seldom, even Christians, give so little credence to an all-seeing God. I say that from personal experience. You would think I would be more careful with my actions if I really understood that I am constantly being watched. The good thing about an all-seeing God is that He does not keep throwing it back in our faces. When we ask forgiveness He does not put the tape into storage He destroys the record and does not even remember how badly we blew it. The only one who seems to always remember our worse moments is — ourselves. We know our hearts. We do not forget. For that reason we have a very difficult time accepting God’s forgiveness and believing our sins are removed as far as the east is from the west and remembered no more.

But He has. There is no video. There is no Internet to keep it going on and on and on. Most of us will never be treated like Billy Cundiff. God forgives him, but few others will. I feel the most sorry for Billy Cundiff. We all make errors.

IT TOOK A MIRACLE

The snow was beautiful on day one, not so bad on day two, disgusting on day three and almost gone today. I’ve had my snow fix for the year. Bring on spring.

I got a very nice email from a friend yesterday. He was talking about miracles and had reviewed a number he had personally experienced. Many he listed were miracles of healing. I think that is wonderful and I am thrilled for him and those blessed with God’s healing touch.

I have also experienced a number of miracles, but most have been of the “things” kind. Many amazingly cool.

I did not grow up seeing the hand of God in everyday life, but I have been encouraged to do that very thing.

There may have been things while I was in Bible College, but the first I really remember was attending the first summer camp of my ministry. I had been thrown into the directorship only a week earlier. The camp was in Northern Saskatchewan. I believe the area is best known for exporting mosquitoes to every other part of Northern America. The sky was black. Since those pesky little things seemed to love me, I did not want to get out of my car. A counselor came and said Harrison Weaver wanted all the leaders to gather in the dining hall. We did and he said we need to pray that God will remove those bugs or nothing good will come of this camp. I have my doubts, but we did and when we walked out of the hall, the sky was clear and it stayed that way for the week.

I had never seen anything like that in my life. Admittedly my faith was low, but was strengthened immediately.

For the next years camp we moved it to southern Saskatchewan to get away from the mosquitoes, but there was a new problem. Our side of the lake was full of algae. The swimming hole was green. Harrison asked us to gather on the dock and pray. While praying we watched the algae slowly move to the north side of the lake and stay there for the week. This was one of a string of five lakes and the algae remained on the south shore of all of the other four lakes. Right then and there I decided I would never do another camp without Harrison.

While planning a northern Saskatchewan zone rally that was to take place in our church, we had in hand a 16 mm film and were expecting a movie projector to arrive at any time. My secretary came to tell me she had just got a call from Mr. Lane and the projector he was bringing from work had been taken earlier by another employee. The zone rally was to begin that night. I gathered the group on the stage to pray and about thirty minutes into praying my secretary came to get me again and said, “You will want to take this call.” Mr. Ford call to ask if we needed a projector (all pre-DVD days). Did we ever.

When we were about to move from Saskatchewan to BC we had already begun paper work to adopt our second child, but that was only four months earlier. Our case worker doubted if everything would come together before our move but assure us she would forward everything to BC. We knew we would be starting from scratch and it would take at least two years.

There was nothing we felt we could do but accept the decision. But we did pray and asked God to intervene. He did and a week before we were to move we were called to Regina to pick up our beautiful and exceptionally happy new daughter. She came with love notes, a full diaper bag and gifts fro the foster family who cared for here from birth. We had her in five months and were walking on air. The following Sunday was her dedication and our farewell.

Vancouver was the largest challenge to our faith we had the most challenging experiences I had hoped we ever would. The parents of one of our youth asked if I believed in Demons. Well yes (at least theoretically). We studied it in college, but this was about to become real.

I listened to their story and agreed that I would pray. I don’t know what I expected. But I got a demonstration at a youth Bible study in North Vancouver. The girl arrived when the study was in progress. She moved in near the front of the group sitting on the floor. While getting settled she bumped into a boy to the right of her, got make at him and grabbed him by the front of his shirt and lifted him off the floor and pushed him away. Everyone gasped that this little 95# girl could do that. As the group scrambled to the four walls, I saw something in her eyes that frightened me. It was scary. I took her to another room with a handful of leaders and we began to pray.

Thus began a seven to eight month ordeal of seeing this little girl delivered. I hit a hige block and finally got help from an experienced missionary from Indonesia who brought it all to the end. A funny sidelight was that the youth group Bible study grew after that experience. If something exciting was going to happen, everyone wanted to be there.

After only a year in Vancouver, we moved to Southern California for me to attend seminary. We did it with no money and no idea how we would survive. A friend encouraged us to start a little book to keep track of everything ever given to us or done for us that we did not ask for or deserve. We did. The first was a job working for Kinney Shoes. That was not going to work so I took the offer to work for a church in Long Beach. Still not enough, but we could survive.

Early in our time there we met another student who worked at a grocery store and was selling Banana boxes full of food cans and boxes damaged in the opening process. They were three dollars a box and usually valued at eight to tweelve dollars. Pretty cool. Friends often took us out to eat. They loaded our kids up with Christmas gifts. Canadians visited and left their unused Disney tickets with us (didn’t know we had so many Canadian friends that wanted to come for a visit). Church members had company parties at Disneyland and took us a guests or gave us their tickets. Out next-door neighbors were employees of Knott’s Berry Farm and gave us their tickets for a free company party. Friends gave us a years pass to Deer Park a cool little place (now gone) with lots of activities for kids, animal shows and deer to pet. Della took the kids there often.

We lived three blocks from Knott’s Berry Farm and the free cake decorating and candy making windows. Once a week they rode the 10¢ merry-go-round and every week after church we bought nickel ice cream cones at Long’s Drugstore.

At the end of our two years in Buena Park, we had been given nearly $8000.00 in cash and prizes. Unbelievable.

There is more, but this “little” note is too long already. It is just a sample of the graciousness of our God and a reminder to me that He loves us.