Wean

These are the days of mixed feelings. Each passage of life brings the thrill of something new and the anticipation of growth. At the same time, there are tears and fears.

Our first child has gone off to college. My wife and I have been excited about this for some time. Preparing for college is a big project for a family: reading up on every course, facility and service the university provides; budgeting; trying to think of and buy all the stuff needed for living in residence; moving. It's a time when being aware of one's emotions through the process is suppressed because of the focus on the things that need to be done. But now she is there. We are here. And there is time to think about it.

I realize that even though I miss her, I'm OK with her being away. She is growing up and this is the way people grow up. It's actually fun to communicate at a distance (how great is the internet!), and to get her updates and personal commentary on her new experiences. So far, she is very positive about her courses and professors. I think she likes her surroundings and the campus. Nevertheless, her daily pining to "come home" is so sweet, and tugs at my heart.

Worry! Well, I am a parent after all. But the worry is not about her success at university or achieving what she desires. My wife and I are anxious that she may be lonely. We worry that she may find university life less than all it was hyped up to be. We hope that she joins a good fellowship group. We hope that she can do some sports. We hope that she makes some friends, and builds some meaningful friendships. This is important because we know she has little tolerance for superficial or acquaintance type relationships. She needs a few people with whom she does not feel "awkward." We give suggestions and advice, but that's about all we can do.

Years ago, I wrote her a little short story about a princess who was loved by her parents. Her parents knew well enough that as the passages of life came along, the best they could do was to commend their princess to the Lord. We did, and do still.

Body

It has been so busy lately that I hardly have time to breathe! However, I've learned so much as a result of the bombardment of demands, deadlines, people to see and talk to, etc. Most of all, it has become very apparent that I cannot do it all.

Having a closed type of personality and being stubbornly self-reliant, I tend to do everything myself. I'm not sure how I've gotten by all these years. As I look back, it appears that many projects would have been done better and have been much more successful if I had not horded the work. The recent busyness has proved this because others have had to do what I would have done myself if there were enough time. I have to admit that the results are much better than if I had done everything myself.

A visit by my brother has also helped me see the bigger picture. Beyond the small world of my work, there is the world out there with which I also need to be concerned, even though I cannot go there. This is where others, like my brother who is dedicated to being out there, come into the picture. I can actually participate through prayer and other support, and be part of their team. Ultimately, all such work is a team effort.

It's funny that I'm still growing up even though I'm middle-aged; learning about teamwork, and that we are part of the body. Life is such an adventure. Deepening in relationship with God, and experiencing his redemptive power change the recesses of my life is ongoing. I am thankful beyond words.

Eight

As it rolls around each year, and before I actually notice the exact day of the anniversary, I find myself given to a kind of quiet melancholy. The past week has not been sad or unhappy. Actually, with family events and people all around, it's proving to be a really enjoyable, exuberant summer full of laughter and smiles. Nevertheless, behind everything this week, I'm experiencing a heart-tugging pensiveness. I feel a little blue. It's been eight years since he died.

It's amazing the way God makes us. I am convinced that memory is one of his great gifts to us. I don't deliberately look for it, but it happens every year, very much like an internal clock.

Truth be told, I would not want it any other way. I would be devastated if I found that I had forgotten him. He was amazing. He was the biggest challenge in my life, indelibly shaping who I am today. Our relationship was so unique. We loved each other: our brotherhood was marked by unusual enmity and suffering one moment, and then the sweetest communion of souls the next. I know that I am a more patient man, able to care better today for having known him.

Hey, I love you still... and I want to be a little sad today because the memory is so alive. And I know my joy will not be contained when I see you again in the presence of our Father.

Tin Man

It's so disconcerting to be told that I need to put more compassion into the things I do; that I need to care more for the people I work with; that I do everything "right" but not with love. Being caring and expressive is not me, at least not naturally. Yet for some reason, I like to think that I am caring and warm. God knows I've always tried to do what ought to be done. So I assume that I've cared, that I've done my part adequately. But people who know me, know better. They point out that I've barely scratched the surface of my responsibility to others. I've got the methods, and usually the courage, but I need a heart.

The truth leaves me at something of a loss. I'm stunned. It's hard to talk. I want to hide. Having tried so hard and actually covering a lot of ground now seems so empty. But those words which are so familiar to the degree of triteness now bear upon me full force: "...if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing", and all that I've laboured at likewise is nothing. I have not been Christlike. This is difficult - running, falling, getting up again.

My apologies.

To you whom I've supported but not really. You've been grieved by my hesitation, my holding back. Please know that you are a gifted individual whom I have, for insecurities of my own, inappropriately stifled. Please forgive me and this bump in the road I've created. Don't let me get you down. God bless you! Go for it!

And to you who sees things as they really are. I am sorry for not listening to your insightful correction. Thank-you for taking the risk to point out my failure. You amaze me for being true even though you know my stubborn pride will get in the way. You show me what love is all about.

.....

I want a heart!

Twenty

She is easily the greatest wonder of Creation in my life. All the world's best reasons for why I love her are true. She is the love of my life. I fell in love with her because of her sunny disposition and warm smile. She is caring and selfless, always going the extra mile. Although she has gifts and abilities that can catapult her to prominence, she always chooses to put me first. She is a companion, friend, and encourager. She makes life full and exciting simply by being there. The best family times happen because she painstakingly plans and executes our together activities. And... she understands.

She is God's gift to me. Ours is not a fairy tale relationship of boy meets girl and they live happily ever after. It's a lot deeper than that. I've come to realize that marriage as God intended it really is a mystery. The journey of becoming one is so marvelously coloured and complex that it could only be born in the mind of the infinite Creator. There are things about myself that would have remained undiscovered without her prompting - she brings out the best in me, and turns the worst on its head. The reality of unconditional love, or grace, is made real because in spite of everything she is always there. Always.

Her love satisfies me emotionally, but it is not just feelings. She is there with an open hand to hold till hurt is gone. Her words are wisdom. Her smile brings release from the burdens of this world. From the recesses of her heart springs a surprise for me every day - I know her so well, and yet, not at all. She is a godly woman who has a faith that gently challenges the growth of my own. Where would I be otherwise?

After all these years, you give me so much to look forward to. Happy anniversary, honey! I love you.

Closer

The most profound truths really do come from the mouths of babes. My wife was riding the ferris wheel with our young son. As they went up and over, she pointed down and said, "Look, do you see daddy down there?"

Our little guy said, "Yeah, he looks so small!"

My wife went on, "Hmm, I wonder what we look like when God looks down at us...we must look very small, just like when we're standing on the ground looking at an ant."

"Oh, but where is the ant?"

"The ant? It's too small for us to see from way up here!"

"But God sees the ant, doesn't He?"

"Hey yeah, God does see the ant...hmm...then God must be closer than we think!"

Indignant

Whoa! A lesson in getting my head on right.

Yesterday was one of the worst driving days ever. The city's public transit union staged a wildcat strike. Don't think anybody knows why, exactly. Usually I get to work by about 8:50 a.m. I was 45 minutes late! Hate that! Then it was all-day rush hour. Since the subway trains were all still in their yards I had to drive downtown in the afternoon. That was an easy 20 minutes. But coming back uptown to the office took 2 and 1/2 hours in bumper to bumper traffic, and then another 45 minutes to get home! It didn't help that it was a swelteringly hot, humid day. Hate that!

I, along with 90% of the population of this commuter city, practically drowned in exasperation. The local all-news radio station's major all-day story was the disbelief, frustration and anger of people inconvenienced by the shut-down of public transportation. The indignation of having my precious time wasted by the very public squabbling of parties who care only about themselves created a bad taste in my mouth and a grumbling in my heart.

Today... I pick up my mail and there in an eye-catching envelope is an appeal from World Vision for earthquake relief for Indonesia. Suddenly it occurs to me that throughout yesterday's disenchantment with my transit inconvenience, between the news reports of our city's transit strike, I did hear reports of the mounting death toll due to the earthquake in the Bantul district of Java Island. This evening I hear on the news that the government of Indonesia counts 6200 dead and over 600,000 left homeless.

I suffered more than a brief moment of shame as I thought of my indignation at being inconvenienced, against my carelessness over the disaster in Indonesia. Two big news stories on the same day. Which is the bigger news story? Obviously, it was the one that had the greatest direct impact on me, or at least whatever I could most readily feel - and I had felt inconvenienced. Talk about misplaced indignation! Why did I not feel for the lives that were cut short and the home-lost who were more than a little inconvenienced??? I feel now. That envelope will go back with a token of my sad attitude towards things that really matter.

I should pay more attention to the things that get my goad, and make sure that they are actually worth my attention. God have mercy on me.