MISLEADING

This picture was taken yesterday and is one of the many pictures my dad painted of castles in England. This I put on this morning.

Some days I put a picture on the day before and I write a few words. Usually by night time I have run out of words and ideas. This is what happened on Saturday. Sandra then read the Sat. night blog and commented while Sunday I got up and decided to add to it about my own dad. Meanwhile Sandra had commented on the previously written comments. If I add to this I will note the additions but once I have said my bit in the morning that is it for the day.

I appreciate anyone taking the time to read my ramblings and am thrilled to get any comments. I write this because i have written every morning for years my thoughts and my activities in what I call a journal.

Several things awakened my memories yesterday. Reading the father's day card from Rick who is now in North Battleford reminded me of the many trips I had in the summer taking the C.N. train from Saskatoon to North Battleford to visit my best friend Lynn. Both our dad's worked for the C.N. and we had met on our first day of school.

Then I started remembering about my dad and some of the amazing things he accomplished. My brother actually did more with dad as they camped together in the scouts where dad was an enthusiastic leader. Growing us in England he had heard about the Mounties and read about the native Indians and this had a lasting impression on his life. He was not able to become a mountie because of poor eye sight but he learn all about the ways of the natives, how to make a head dress, a tepee, bead work, and their dances. He had a group of boys who caught the spirit and stayed with him for years.

Anyway that explains what happened yesterday.

Today we are looking forward to picking up Carol and Panteli from the airport. She is doing much better but will be glad to be back home in Canada. At least she is use to the bugs that bite her here. They had rented out their house for the time they were away but Sandra has room for them and so does Theresa. We do too.

It has been a busy and enjoyable week-end but I am still finding myself short of breath. I may just have to get use to it but I am tiring more easily and have to be very careful mucking about the garden as their our many rocks etc. that cause me to lose my balance.

Church was full of people who came to the christening of Angeline Elizabeth a beautiful baby girl. It was so good to see people who had come years ago and had drifted away.

I was reminded as we talked later that we are all very poor listeners and very selective. We also hang on to something we believe to be the truth and refuse to discuss or listen to sone one else's point of view.

Pat reminded me to read the chapter on Mystery in the book "My Grandfather's Blessings". Mystery is another word or expression for God, the sacred presence in all our lives.

"Mystery has great power. Working with people with cancer I have seen Mystery comfort people when nothing else can and offer hope when nothing else offers hope."

"I have seen Mystery heal fear that is otherwise unhealable. I have watched people in their confrontation with the unknown recover awe, wonder, joy and aliveness. They have remembered life is holy."

Mystery can speak to us in any place at any time and the most important lesson we can learn is to listen to this voice. Mystery has spoken to me and guided me but the words where for me alone. I still have many questions but a good mystery keeps us reading even as Mystery encourages us to keep searching and listening.