The Blues is Still Kickin’

The Limestone City Blues Fest was on this weekend and my wife, Lily, and I decided to take it in. I like the “blues” so I was looking forward to hearing some music that sounded like Stevie Ray Vaughan, Albert King or Colin James.

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There was an open-air concert right on Princess Street and when we got within a few blocks, we could hear the guitar man wailing away. We didn’t really need to pay the admission fee; we could hear the music fine from the other side of the barricade. But it’s only up close that you get to feel the music, so we paid.

As we entered onto the blocked off street, we ran into one of our son’s friends. He was eating on the patio of a restaurant in the “hub”. We had a short chat and then moved on to get close to the music.

As we left Gibby, that was the last time I saw someone under 25 for the rest of the night. Actually, it was the last time I saw someone under 65!  We passed into a time warp and everyone you looked at was old, and from a bygone era.

I don’t mean just middle aged – we were the young people in the crowd! I gazed over everyone sitting in their lawn chairs in front of the stage, and it was a sea of white hair. I couldn’t believe it.  Where were all the younger blues fans?

The band leader was just givin’ it on his guitar and these people were soaking it up. I think they probably had their hearing aides turned down and all they really heard was a muffled sound.

Hey, some of them probably turned off their pacemakers because the kick drum was so heavy you felt it inside you, like it was replacing your heartbeat.

It was funny to see all those old folks (some with canes), all happy like they just got out of a nursing home for the night. I checked, but there wasn’t any one of the seniors from my church at the event. And I couldn’t imagine any of them being there, or at least staying for more than two minutes.

The band we saw was called “Papa Chubby” and it was a very descriptive name for the leader of the group. He sat and played his guitar for most of the set, but it wasn’t like his show lacked energy!

The old folks were into it, too; they were moving. One guy reminded me of the bobble head figurines, only he was a whole body bobble head, standing there jiggling.

People were tapping their canes and even formed something of a weak resemblance to a mosh pit at the front of the stage.

We checked out just before it ended. We left the concert area to go grab some gelato on Front Street. And there we were, transported back to present-day Kingston!

Here’s the thing: Just like the “Blues” isn’t music for just an older generation, God is not the God of a past generation. And like anyone can enjoy listening to the Blues, Christ came to reconcile all generations to God. You are never too old or young to believe in God.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What have you stereotyped as being for another generation? Leave your comment below.

Forty Years and Forty Pounds

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen some of my high school buddies. I’ve known most of them for over 40 years. We got together a few weeks ago because one of the guys was visiting Toronto from out west.

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He moved out there 30 years ago and says he’ll never move back. I know you’re probably thinking he moved out to Vancouver or some other west coast city. If you’re thinking that, though, you’re wrong, because this guy is never coming back from Ded Reer, I mean Red Deer, Alberta.

Nothing wrong with Red Deer; I passed by it lots when I lived in Edmonton. You always felt good as you made that one slight bend in the road between Calgary and Edmonton. Red Deer was the indicator you were half way to your destination or half way home.

I was looking forward to seeing the guys, but I happened to look in a mirror a few minutes beforehand and realized I didn’t really look the same as I did in high school.

And though I knew all the guys very well, when a few of them showed up, it was like seeing them for the first time.

I found the two biggest factors in recognizing my old friends were weight and hair. If they didn’t have hair, that made it difficult, because 40 years ago we all had hair (lots of it, too).  If they had gained weight, that also made it difficult because it altered their facial features (along with some other features). If they lost hair and gained weight, well, then it was like being introduced to a brand new friend.

One guy I didn’t recognize the entire night! It took my brain until the next morning to run him through my internal facial recognition files, but there he was … although now he is a little slimmer, a little better dressed, and his hair is way more under control.

There were 15 of us who descended on Wendel Clark’s Classic Grill and Sports Lounge that evening. And it took most of us about 4 hours or so to undo 40 years of history. But believe me, the old jokes, nicknames, stories and fables all surfaced during the night.

It’s hard to imagine that you can have little or no contact with people for years and years, but once you get them all back together in the same room, it’s like you never were apart. It was still as comfortable and easy to be with these guys as it was back when our hair was shoulder length and we were listening to Steely Dan and Elton John.

Here’s the thing: Lots can happen in life. Things can change us, and make us look a lot different than we once did, both inside and out. But God knows us so well that if we decide to meet with Him again, it will be like we were never apart. It’ll still be comfortable and easy. Let me encourage you to meet with God and refresh your relationship. He is eager to get together with you.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: Who have you found it easy to reconnect with after a long time apart?  Leave your comment below.

She Wished She Had Lived When?

You can know someone for so long, but not really know them at all. Have you ever experienced that? I did this past weekend when my wife and I went to Upper Canada Village (an authentic 19th century park along the St. Lawrence River).

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I can thank our friends for that. We had been talking with them about what they had been doing over the summer and they mentioned they had just been to UCV. That seed got planted in Lily’s brain, fertilized, grew and blossomed in only two days, just as we were deciding on what to do for our anniversary. Before I knew it, we were on our way.

At the end of our day there, I discovered that Lily would have liked to live back in those times. She said they were “simpler.”

It was right then that I realized I didn’t even know this person I’d been married to for 28 years. Simpler times, were they?

During our visit, we watched a blacksmith heat up and hammer a piece of iron into a coat hook. With one hand, he worked the bellows to fan the flame, with the other, he held the metal in the fire. He was hot, sweaty, then with great force, hammered the iron into shape. It took effort. … I could drive to Home Depot and buy one for about $1.50. Which is simpler?

We milked a cow, which I actually proved to be pretty good at. But still, I could tell it would take a long time to get a bucket of milk … and that’s assuming your aim was good and you got all the milk in the bucket and not down your leg.

I think reaching into the fridge and pulling out a container of milk is simpler – even if we use bags instead of cartons! How could she think living in the 1860’s would be simpler?

I saw a few kitchens in this village and there were no microwave ovens, no electric stoves, no fridges. Food preparation looked pretty onerous and time consuming. A combo meal from McDonald’s, now that’s simple!

The processes they had to go through to make cheese, print a paper or cut a large log were painstakingly long. We watched a horse walking in a circle, hooked up to a contraption, that sawed through a 24” diameter log.

I was impressed with the ingenuity of the people who thought this up. But a Husqvarna 440 chainsaw would have cut through that log in about 15 seconds!

Factoring in that we experienced all this in the middle of the summer in 25 C (77 F) weather, you can multiply the complexity of living back then exponentially during the winter months.

I don’t understand why Lily thinks it would be nice to live back then. This from a woman who packs her bag so full for an over night, that she asks me to put the hairdryer in my bag … because that 19th century technology is coming with us, for sure!

She hadn’t been to Upper Canada Village since she was a kid, and she was very excited about going. I just hope it was the excitement that was doing the talking. If not, I don’t have a clue who this person is.

Here’s the thing: You can think you know God, but do you really? As you peel back the pages of the Bible, and experience Him in life, over a great amount of time you will discover more of Him … But you’re still only scratching the surface.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What new thing have you discovered about God in the last year? Leave your comment below.

Who, Me? A Calorie Counter?

Three times in one day I heard the same message and, no, it wasn’t from my wife. I heard it on TV, on the radio and at the movies. The message was, “If you eat more calories than you burn, you will gain weight.”

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The next morning I decided to check it out. For me, everything is better if there is an app for it … and you better believe there are apps for calorie counting! As I started checking it out, both Lily and my daughter, Karlie, got into it as well.

Karlie had used one before, it was free, and seemed like a good one. I downloaded it onto my phone and couldn’t wait to start eating for the day. The great thing about the app is that it gives you a sense of how much you should be eating in a day so you have some kind of a gauge.

What I don’t like is having to enter all the food I eat and, worse, the amounts I eat (like I can tell what 4 oz of meat looks like on a plate?!) … I started to vaguely remember a nutrition seminar from my cardiac rehab clinic.

I remember the nutritionist had everyone grab some food labels and read the nutrition information on them. As she explained what the information meant, I was looking at the pictures on the labels and thinking I’d like to eat those items right then.

Needless to say, I didn’t get much from the seminar. But now I need that information. Thankfully, my app can scan bar codes, adding the nutritional info right into the app for me.

I’m getting the hang of it. It’s like playing monopoly every day. You start with a bunch of cash (calories), and as you eat, it costs you, like landing on a chance square or that dreaded income tax spot. But, like in monopoly when you pass “Go” and get more cash, in the nutrition game, you get more calories to use up when you exercise.

Now this is where it gets a little fun: I had a breakfast that cost me 391 calories, but then I went on a bike ride that bought me 432 calories. So before lunch, I had more calories to spend than I started the day with. It was great!

It bugged the girls though. They couldn’t get over the fact that I got to eat so much and could buy calories so easily.

After we figured out what dinner cost us, I decided to go for a bike tour around the area. Oh, and I purchased a $2 app that calculates my calories when biking or walking and syncs with my calorie counter.

That little trip bought me another 380 calories. By 8:30 pm I still had over 1100 calories to spend! I decided to have just a few chips, and some licorice, because just like in monopoly, I felt like I had some calories stashed under the board for when times get tough.

Here’s the thing: When you have worked at saving calories during the day, you somehow gain strength to fight the temptation of eating all kinds of junk food. You have a desire to keep what you fought for. When you fight against sin, a similar thing happens that gives you strength to stand up to temptation the next time.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What success have you had that has given you more power over temptation? Leave your comment below.

Vacation Pain

“Back to the salt mines.” One of my buddies used to say that after noon hockey. He didn’t actually work in a salt mine, but he did have to go back to work. I guess after playing shinny, the idea of work seemed unpleasant.

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If you are someone who works in a salt mine, I’m not saying your work is hard and undesirable; it’s just an expression.

So, if a guy feels that way after an hour or so of hockey, how is one supposed to feel going back to work after a month of vacation? It’s not like my church has a secret tunnel in the basement that leads to large rooms of white crystal rock that I have to break apart all day.

But I do have some apprehensions going back after vacation. In any line of work, there are things you look forward to and things you don’t, things you enjoy doing and things you don’t.

Your work can be 90% enjoyable, invigorating, motivating and a few other desirable “atings”, but it’s that smaller percentage that weighs you down and has you wishing the vacation isn’t coming to an end.

So, at the end of vacation, you develop a little schizophrenia: part of you can’t wait to get back and another part of you wants to put on the brakes and stay where you are.

What happens is you start to act differently. You don’t have the same relaxed, carefree attitude you had a few days earlier. You go to the beach, but you don’t chill at the beach; you begin to strategize.

The water becomes your goals that are so hard to take hold of, the sand is like time that slips through your fingers and the people lying on the beach become the steps to how you will get to the water before the sand runs out.

You try to savour your last days of vacation, but your wife looks at you while you stare off in the distance and says, “See, he’s already back at work.”

There is no way to get back to the “chilaxed” zone you were in only a matter of days before. A switch has been turned on and it doesn’t matter how hot the sun is and how good it feels to sit under your beach umbrella sipping a Dr. Pepper, digging your feet in the sand, as you read or catch a few winks. You are there, but not really there.

Instead, you are sitting in your office sorting the mail that piled up, trying to make headway on hundreds of emails, all while getting back into the rhythm of your work.

Then you wake up, take a sip of your pop, wipe the drool from the corner of your mouth, glance at the people walking along the beach, and get back to reading your book. It was all a dream, a big scary dream. You still have 3 days of vacation left to enjoy.

Here’s the thing: Like the burden of work that overcomes us at the end of vacation, the burdens of sin, shame or self doubt can weigh us down even after we’ve confessed them. But God wants to take those burdens from us. We have to figure out how we can off-load those burdens to Him and not take them back.

That’s life!

Paul

Question: What is the hardest thing to come back to after your vacation?  Leave your comment below.

Moose on the Loose!

Currently I’m on vacation some where near a sandy beach, on Lake Huron.  While I am away I am featuring a guest blog about once a week.  Today’s blog comes from Lily Silcock.  Along with being my wife, Lily works for SureWx as an executive assistant. She volunteers at Kingston Alliance Church and does all the editing for this blog.

Sometimes I shake my head at the situations I get myself in and the things I’ll do for my kids.

After a long work week a few weeks ago, I found myself exhausted and boarding a plane to Regina. Why Regina, you ask? Well, that’s where our daughter wanted me to meet her for our road trip back to Ontario … Not beautiful Calgary to be of assistance in helping her pack up her earthly possessions to move. Not in Edmonton – her first stop – where I could visit some dear friends, but Regina where there’s nothing and no one!!

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So I flew in to Regina, all eager to spend some quality time with Karlie as we drove back to Ontario. What I didn’t realize was that I’d almost need to ride on the roof for lack of room in her little Hyundai Accent! With bags at my feet and no room to recline the seats even an inch, we left. But that was ok; we were spending time together.

Our first day, we planned to drive from Regina to Dryden ON – a very do-able 940 km. What we hadn’t planned on was no vacancies at the hotels in Dryden at 7:30 pm. “No problem”, we said. We could go another 4 hours and easily get a place. After all, Thunder Bay’s a sizeable city.

I was tired but Karlie was happy to keep driving … until we passed the first “Moose on the loose” sign, followed almost on cue by a humongous moose standing on the shoulder of the road! And just as I was trying to assure her that that was probably a fluke, we passed another one!

Well, that ended any chance I had of catching a nap. I had to spend the next 3+ hours sitting bolt upright (not a problem since the seats weren’t reclining anyways), squinting and scanning the dark landscape, on the lookout for moose on the loose.

But I didn’t mind … I’m a mom and we do those things for our kids. Besides, I was looking forward to a nice, comfy hotel bed down the highway.

Little did I know that when we finally made it to our destination at 1 am, there would not be a single hotel bed available in that city either! Who knew that the national diving championships were being held so far up north this year?

Our only option at 1:30 am was the stuffed-to-the-gills tiny car we’d already spent the last 16 hours in. It’s a good thing my daughter and I are both vertically challenged!

After 4 hours of contorting in our seats, trying to get comfortable, laughing at the insanity of our predicament, and maybe getting a total of an hour’s shuteye, I laughingly announced, “I’m too old for this! Let’s hit the road.”

As exhausted and stiff as I was, I didn’t mind. It was a pleasure to be on a road trip with my daughter. I love her like crazy! Really, when it comes down to it, I’m a parent, and I’ll do just about anything for my kids … willingly.

It’s not surprising then that God calls Himself our Father. He willingly gave it all for us. We can count on Him, His help, His support, His company. He loves us like crazy!

Lily

Question: How have you gone the extra mile for your kids or loved ones? Leave your comment below.

Why You Should Keep Things Simple

The other night, my wife, daughter and I went downtown to the Buskers Festival. Years ago buskers were individuals on a street corner who had some kind of talent and were trying to make a few bucks in the summer.

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Now it’s an industry, with people traveling all over the world to cities bringing them in for festivals. They block off streets and allow large crowds of people to gather round.

At one time, they used to just open their guitar case or throw down a hat and hope people would put money in as they passed by. It’s a little different now.

I hadn’t been down to see the buskers in our city for several years, but I sure noticed something different this year. These performers were into entertainment more that performing their stunts.

I saw three acts and there was no question about their talent and abilities, but I got bored with their acts. They were too long. I wanted to see the pole guy climb the pole more, and do more tricks up there.

Perhaps the guys he picked from the audience to support the pole weren’t as strong as they looked. Maybe he needed to give them a rest in between trips up to the top of his free standing pole. I kind of wanted to see him carry the female volunteer from the crowd up with him.

The lady who could stick her head through her legs was a little creepy, but she could really do the hula hoop … several of them … at one time … all on different appendages.

But she went on and on about how long she had been practicing her craft, and how dangerous it was to do the hula hoop from 7 feet in the air. That’s not even the height of a normal ceiling in a home.

At least the pole guy didn’t talk. I’m not sure if he couldn’t talk or if it was part of the act. But he didn’t go on and on about preferring bills over change like the hula girl did.

I kept looking over and wishing we had gone to the fire guy about a half a block over. I’m not sure what he was doing, but he had fire, and anything with fire is more exciting than a hula hoop or a pole.

I liked seeing these street performers, but the crowds were so big that they all really needed bleachers, which sort of takes away from the “street” part of the performance. My suggestion would be to have more acts, so that the crowds would be smaller around each act and the performers wouldn’t feel they had to talk so much.

I just want to see more amazing tricks, stunts, and talent.

Here’s the thing: There are times when I add things to my devotions that really aren’t part of it. Sometimes I have the inkling to check something like my email before my time with God. All those extra things do is get me distracted from just being with God, listening, learning and talking to Him. I need to remember to keep my time with Him simple and to the point.

Question: What distracts you most when you want to spend time with God? Leave your comment below.

Just Blame the Weatherperson

This week the temperature has soared, and already people are complaining. We humans are pretty hard to please. At one time, I thought it was just the farmers who complained about the weather. But honestly, we all do it

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It’s either too hot or cold or rainy or snowy or a combination of them all. I think we could just blame the weatherman for all this, or should I say “meteorologist”? They are the ones that tell us it’s hotter than it really is and colder than it really is.

When I was a kid, 80 degrees was hot. It didn’t matter if you were in the shade or in the sun. It was hot and you knew it and everyone else did, too. Today, however, it’s worse than that: 80 degrees is 27 Celsius, but we are told that it really feels like 35 (95 Fahrenheit).

In the winter, they do the same thing. It might be -20C (-4F) but they add their little jab by saying that with the windchill, it feels like its -29.

And we buy right into this fake weather! We complain about how bad we have it when it’s hot and how unfair it is when it’s cold. These weather people are controlling our emotions and, most of the time, they aren’t even correct.

There was a time when the weatherman was a guy training to be the anchorman at the radio or TV station. All he would do is lick his finger, stick it outside and make a guess.

We accepted that. We knew the guy was guessing at the weather. It was forgivable. After all, the guy didn’t want to be doing the weather; he just had to put in his time before he could give us real news.

Now they go to school to learn weather patterns and cloud formations. They sound all fancy and technical when the give the weather and they are just as wrong as they ever were. Can we really blame that on global warming?

They have all their maps with bright colours and animation showing the clouds. … I still think the guy that would write backwards on a piece of glass had more talent.  At least it was entertaining.

Let’s not give in to their hype and drama. Let’s accept the weather for what it is.

I’m not complaining about the weather. Maybe it’s because I’m on vacation and can dip into the semi-frigid waters of Lake Huron any time I want. Or, maybe it’s because I can walk down to the strip any time of the day and enjoy a cone at DQ or Scoopers, or get a cup of raspberry gelato.

Sure, maybe I’d sing a different tune if I had to go to work everyday. But every time you start to whine about how hot it is, remember it could be a windy-cloudy-snowy-rainy day instead.

I don’t want to hear any more comments on Facebook or twitter that “Satan called and wants his weather back.” I like this 30-degree-feels-like-37-with-a-humidex-of-60, sunny hot weather. . .  I’m going to the beach. See ya!

Here’s the thing: We so quickly complain and criticize God when things are not perfect: when our prayer isn’t answered at the exact moment we’d like, when it’s not what we want, when we don’t get the justice we think we deserve, or when our circumstances seem more difficult that others’. Like the weather, enjoy, and rejoice in what you do have.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: What are you quick to complain about when it’s not perfect? Leave your comment below.

We’re Selling Rabbit Fur Coats, Cheap!

For the last 18 years, my wife has organized a street BBQ with our neighbours. I’d like to say that it’s Lily and I who put this on, but I don’t do much more than clean off a few chairs and roll our BBQ out to the street. She does all the organizing.

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What happens is at 5 pm, I roll our BBQ out to the middle of the street (we live on a keyhole cul-de-sac) and, magically, the neighbours start to show up with their chairs, food and drinks.

It’s not a big event; there’s just ten houses on our street. But we do invite past neighbours (alumni) to attend.

We’ve had the police drive by a few times, but they’ve always just joked with us. Maybe it’s because we have a retired corrections officer on the street, and maybe they have a secret signal (like the Masons) that tips other officers to their occupation. Maybe not.

This year a conversation started about the rabbits. You know, those cute little fury things some people keep as pets. Not on our street! Everyone hates them – even the women, especially the women!

It seemed to be unanimous that everyone was looking for ways to keep the bunnies from eating the flowers in our gardens. Some have tried human hair, moth balls, soap, and cayenne pepper. One owner said she put Frank’s Hot Sauce in the garden, but I don’t think that’s right, wasting good hot sauce on those varmints.

One neighbour has put chicken wire around all his little gardens. Sure he has his flowers, but it’s harder to see them through the chicken wire. One guy sits on his deck with a garden hose in hand and spays the little hoppers when he sees them.

As we were talking, we looked over at our house and there was a bunny hopping up our front walk to our door, like he was going to call on our turtle, Winston, to come out for a race or something.

These rabbits are not afraid of us, either. They just look at us with those innocent eyes, and remain very still like they are thinking, “I can see them, but if I remain still they won’t even know I’m hear nibbling on their lilies.”

At the BBQ, there was talk of pellet guns, and setting up a camouflage blind in one of our backyards to hunt them down, but we never got too far with that. We talked of rabbit stew and selling rabbit coats but these ideas didn’t get off the ground either.

In the end, it was still every household for themselves against the rabbit population on our street which is rapidly growing among an aging human demographic.

It was fitting that, as my neighbour and I were returning some things to our backyard, a little bunny, no more than a week or two old, appeared in front of us and then scurried under our deck. I really do think they have plans to overrun us.

Here’s the thing: It’s amazing how we can come together over something as silly as a bunny problem. God wants us to come together around Him, which should be easy. Sadly, in the end, we often end up everyone for themselves. It just should not be.

That’s life!

Paul

Question: How would you deal with a bunny problem? Leave your comment below.

My Replacement Blog

It’s not easy writing these blogs, you know. Sure, it’s only 500 to 600 words; some people can speak that many words in a minute or two. But it’s not the actual writing that’s difficult.

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I remember when I was a kid. To write 500 words was a death sentence! It’s only a page of words, but when I was young I didn’t have that much to say. Plus, I’m a male and we can say lots with just a look on our face or a few non-intelligible sounds.

The tough thing about writing is the critiquing of what I write. Today I wrote a killer blog.  I thought it was one of my best, so I was anxious for someone to read it. I kept asking my wife, “Have you read it yet?”

I think my asking got her more intrigued with it, so she finally got on her computer and took a look. Everything was going well for the first 3 paragraphs. And then she stopped.

“You can’t write about that.” she said. I replied, “Keep reading”, thinking that maybe when she digested the whole blog she would have a change of mind. But after every paragraph she would stop and say the same thing.

Now, I don’t mind when she says, “Your grammar was really bad on that one” or “the punctuation needs some work.”  I don’t even mind when she says, “You should rephrase that.”  She has great ideas some times. After all, she does all the editing for my blog site.

The thing that I do mind, the thing that is tough to hear, is the content can’t be published. I spent some quality time writing my blog today and when I was finished I was proud of my work.

But now no one is going to read it. I wish I could publish it, and share it with others, but because it’s about a close family member, I’ve been instructed to keep it in the vault.

I ran into this problem several years ago when my kids became teenagers. I used to use illustrations in my sermons that were about things my kids did, or experienced. When they were young they loved hearing me tell stories about them.

But for some reason, by the time they hit about 12 or 13, I was finding that I needed to ask for permission if I was going to speak about them in church. Eventually, I thought it best to just leave them out of it. So for many years they have been missing from my sermon content.

Maybe they’re happy about it. Maybe they don’t do or say things that are as “preachable” as they did when they were kids. But one thing is for sure, censorship doesn’t just revolve around the CRTC (Canadian Radio & Television Commission).

Most of you would have liked my blog. You would have laughed, and been concerned. Some of you, who know my family well, would have had some follow up questions that you really needed answers to.

But unfortunately, you won’t get a change to read it. So just forget I mentioned my killer blog that I can’t publish. This will have to do as a replacement.

Here’s the thing: Sometimes we want to do things that God doesn’t want us to do. He doesn’t force us, but if we continue, we might cause harm to ourselves or others. We can be stubborn and do it anyway, but the benefits of listening to God’s wisdom may save us a lot of heartache.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: How have you benefitted by not doing something you really wanted to do?  Leave your comment below.