The Tablecloth

I'm not dead yet, but a hell of a lot closer to it than I want to be. Yes, it's finals time again. That time of year where pretty much the only thing keeping you alive is Christmas. On that note, it's time for the touching Christmas story of the year.

A pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry, reopened a church in suburban Brooklyn. Excitedly arriving in early October, they saw the opportunities to accomplish something good before them. When they first laid eyes upon the church, they found it to be very run down and in need of much work. They set a goal, though, to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve.

They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc., and on Dec 18 were ahead of schedule and just about finished. On December 19 a terrible tempest hit the area, lasting two days.

On the 21st, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 20 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high. The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home. On the way he noticed a local business having a flea market type sale for charity so he stopped in.

One of the items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the center. It was just the right size to cover up the hole in the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church. By this time it had started to snow. An older woman running from the opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later. She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry. The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area.

Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was like a sheet. "Pastor," she said, "where did you get that tablecloth?" The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into it there. To his astonishment, he found that they were. These being the initials of the woman. She had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria. The woman could hardly believe it, for the pastor told how he had just acquired the tablecloth.

The woman explained that before the war she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria. When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week. She was captured, sent to prison and she never saw her husband or her home again.

The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the pastor keep it for the church. The pastor insisted on driving her home, that was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job.

What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return.

One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighbourhood, continued to sit in one of the pews and stare at the Tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to the one that his wife had made many years ago in Austria before the war and how could there be two Tablecloths so much alike?

He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety, and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35 years in between.

The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier. He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman's apartment, knocked on the door and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine.

- Anonymous

Mysterious white rain grinds Lower Mainland to halt

VANCOUVER - The city of Vancouver slowed to a standstill over the weekend as a mysterious white rain fell on the city, forming a coating to almost 5 mm. Drivers caught in the fury of Mother Nature as the rain suddenly switched over to this mysterious precipitation were clearly panicked. The RCMP reported over 700 traffic accidents from 6 to 10 AM this morning, and Translink has halted all transit service until road conditions improve.

One driver told Global News that this weather is unprecedented. Senior meteorologist Mark Madryga agrees: "This has certainly never fallen in Vancouver before, and we're in the process of determining what it is. We tried calling colleagues from other parts of Canada, and they were all convinced it was snow, but Vancouver doesn't get snow, so that definitely can't be it!"

EXTREME COLD GRIPS CITY

Immediately after the mystery precipitation storm, temperatures at Vancouver International Airport dropped to the most dangerous levels seen in 42 years, recording a low of just 1.4 C. In other parts of the city, there were numerous reports of malfunctioning thermometers, as temperatures seemed to dip below freezing, the absolute minimum for most household thermometers sold in Vancouver.

Residents in Burnaby, Coquitlam, and Surrey flooded the Global News Room with panicked reports of their double doubles freezing once they left the relative comfort of their local Tim Hortons.

Vancouver mayor Gregor Robertson has declared a state of emergency, and emergency shelters in the Downtown East Side were overwhelmed. However, relief is in sight. Environment Canada predicts temperatures will rise to 8 C by the middle of next week.

(C) Global BC (TM)

Long time no post

Hello world. I'm still alive. A lack of writable thoughts has kept me away from this blog for a while, but I thought I'd give a shout out, just to keep the blog updated...it has, after all, been 2 weeks.

That is not to say there haven't been scattered thoughts of substance lately...just, not concentrated enough to be put down in writing. Thankfully, there are those best of friends who can facilitate the release of such thoughts (and also pick up the pieces after the bombshell has been dropped...).

Hopefully something substantial, concentrated, and not (too) damaging will crop up soon so that this blog can be taken off of life support.

Another day, another year...

So ends another year of my life; so begins a new year. Nineteen. It's always like that when a new year starts. It feels foreign to me. I don't feel that age. The first few days, even weeks, if people ask me how old I am, I will answer with last year's age. Because I haven't grown into nineteen yet. Because I'm still eighteen, at heart. The mind and soul takes a while to catch up to the body.

Of course, lately, my mind and soul have taken a while to catch up to things in general. Exhaustion reigns supreme. Exhaustion with routine. Exhaustion with life. Exhaustion with spirit. Exhaustion with activity. If only life was like rechargeable batteries. I could just go up to a terminal and ZAP I'm awake!

Unfortunately, there is no such luxury available, and even if it were invented in the near future (near enough to fall within my lifetime), it'd probably be so expensive only the richest of the rich could afford it. Imagine such technology! A human recharging station.

For now, the coffee beckons...

Or the bed. The bed's good too.

Assumptions

To assume is to make an "ass" of "u" and "me."

I know, this is cliche, but at the same time it is so very true. The person who makes the assumption without solid proof is deemed an ass for causing a potentially explosive situation. Also, as we humans are prone to reacting before thinking sometimes, the person who falls victim to the assumption will also be deemed an ass if he or she flares out. I know all too well. This morning a small assumption incident arose (I will not say who and what, it is of the mundane), and set me off on a day of moodiness. As such, I now write this to get it off my mind.

The solution is simple. For the person about to make an assumption, a couple of quick questions will generally give rise to a more accurate analysis of the situation at hand. No more than a few seconds of time can save a few hours, or even years of rift afterward. Prevention is the best cure.

However, prevention doesn't always work, so for the person who falls prey to an assumption, a simple explanation will suffice. Throwing a tantrum over being "falsely accused" is not going to make things better; indeed, generally that makes things worse. Again, a few seconds used to calm nerves for a more appropriate response will save ages of grudge bearing time in the future.

A small assumption isn't a big deal in itself. That is to say, it's not the end of the world if you're on the giving or receiving end of one. However, the implications of one can be a big deal, if both parties allow it to be. So, with the benefit of hindsight (many, many times, I might add), let's all take a step back, and let cooler heads prevail.

Adrift

My mind runs wildly to and fro,
My thoughts take no apparent flow,
I've lost my way, I do not know
In which direction should I go.

My heart is here, my heart is there,
My soul floats aimlessly somewhere,
If God is here, then tell me where,
I cannot find Him anywhere.

Am I the one who's back is turned, who's eyes and ears are closed? Am I the one running away? Am I the one who's put so many distractions and barriers in between, and put so many things ahead of God? In all the years of Sunday School and sermons and whatnot, the probable answer is yes, because God's never the one who does the ditching. However, that's just knowledge, and knowledge of a spiritual matter is only the tip of the iceberg.

At some times, the feeling of connection to God is fairly strong. At others, it's so weak I might as well be a non-Christian. Sometimes, the lack of Spirit that I display alarms me. Am I actually saved? Follow that with a burst, and injection of God, and then it's back to apathy. An unending, and fairly vicious, cycle.

Worship, fellowship, and service are almost routine-like now. Do I even go with the right motives in mind? Do I even HAVE motives? I probably spend less and less quality time with God, trying to get more time for myself, but the irony of it is that I'd probably have more time for myself if I spend more time with Him.

These are pretty jumbled thoughts and it's taken me a while to sift through them all. Among the thoughts that plague me, the biggest is probably "where do I go from here?" So God is a sovereign God. He has His plans. Where am I in them? I'd like to know!

Chances are, I probably won't get to know, so where do I find my faith? How do I REALLY learn to love God again, with that childlike innocence, with that initial passion? God, I want that searching heart back. I don't actually have it. Those spiritual moments of late, they have been so fleeting, so temporary. It's just enough to keep me from giving up. But I don't want to just hang on by a thread. I want to stand on the Rock.

For now, I remain adrift, waiting for the wind to come, and blow me in the right direction, back to the shore, because I'm powerless without God.

"Wait for the LORD;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the LORD." ~ Psalm 27:14

So must I wait, so shall I wait.

A grateful heart

Thanksgiving just passed and I thought it would be nice to have a post for giving thanks...even though it's a bit belated.

I must start with giving thanks to God for just being here, and for everything that now surrounds me (and, I must be honest, this includes the food). Upon further reflection, this includes the dirt and grime of life too, because even though I really, REALLY don't understand anything about this right now, I'm sure it has a purpose, and I'll be thankful later, so I might as well deal with it by being thankful NOW.

A shout out to mom and dad...I'm thankful for you two...sometimes the presentation might not be the most obvious, and at times it might even seem like the exact opposite is true, but deep down, always, I love you. This extends to the rest of my family too, without the love-hate complications.

And of course I have to include my best of friends (goes without saying; you know who you are) on this list...honestly I don't know how I might have handled many separate incidents without you guys over the past few years. Standing beside me through all the times that I have been such a drag...you have no idea how much that means, but it's enough to bring tears to my eyes.

In conclusion, God, you're the best, and people who choose not to know you don't know what they're missing out on.