pounding pavement: March 2010

Thursday, March 25, 2010

...and my wife!

My co-Director of contextual parenting (and my beloved wife, of course!) just joined blog-land. Yay! You can check out her blog here.

Also in the blog world is my elder brother. He's the talented one in the family. I'm a fair hand with a word-processor, but he makes useful things like toy boxes for his nephews, and chests-of-drawers for his wife, or builds entire tent trailers to enjoy while camping. He's here.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

thoughts in real time

I scrolled through the pictures of my family posted below, and realized that I really am blessed beyond all measure and comprehension. I am humbled by the love of my family and friends, and thank God each and every day for all of you.

I wish that I would hear something from some congregation about my future. I could use a word about that right now.

Today I prayed that a friend would see the power of God not in natural disasters that affect our world, but rather in the way that the children of God unite and care for each other in their times of need.

I've realized that I'm blessed to be able to worry about how to get our van fixed or replaced, instead of worrying about how we could juggle our schedules with the buses' and not miss anyone or be late for work.

A friend told me she's going to be baptized. That's true perspective -- eternal joy; and the rejoicing of God's heart at God's children coming home. I suspect even the angels are dancing now.

I wish I could get a hug from my mom right about now.

But I'll go now, and watch little chests rising and falling. I'll straighten blankets, like she did for me when I was small. I'll smooth dream-wrinkled foreheads and return stuffies to their places of honour in the arms of their sleeping friends. I'll kiss fingers and noses, and crawl into bed beside their mother, my wife, my life.

And I'll sleep tonight, awed by the glimpses of reality that I saw today. God's reality. Not mine. My reality is small, and petty. God's reality is grace, and hope, and faith, and love.

And I am a man most richly surrounded by the greatest of these -- love.

same old, same old

Many of my friends frequently label me as having the worst luck with vehicles of anyone they know.

And you know what? They're right. I have owned three vehicles since I started driving. Every one of them, during the time I've owned them, have totalled up more money in repairs than I paid for them. I don't buy particularly expensive vehicles, but they're not $500 rust buckets, either.

It hold true for other vehicles, too. When I worked for a courier company I got the reputation as 'the grim reaper' because almost every time I took a truck out, something mechanical in it died horribly.

The other day when I was driving back from Radisson -- where I'm teaching confirmation -- I noticed that the fan on the engine was running and wouldn't stop. I thought it was the thermostat (a relatively inexpensive fix) and brought it to the shop today.

It wasn't the thermostat. It was just about everything else, though. Intake manifold gasket (which was done when we bought the van); head gasket (ditto), transmission warning code, yada, yada, yada.

Translation: around $4000 in repairs that should (need) be done. On a 9-year-old Pontiac minivan with nearly 250 000 kilometres on it. Is it worth it? Not likely. But we can't afford anything newer right now, not at least until I've been working for a few months and have some idea of income. Right now, all we have is outgo. But also, we can't afford the repairs that are needed right now -- not until I'm working.

Of course, the irony of this is that if it could have waited for a few months, we wouldn't be in a pickle right now. But Murphy's Law being what it is, I'm not really surprised.

But you know what? For some reason, I'm not really worried. I'm sad and I'm tired, but not really worried. Maybe I just have enough on my plate right now. Maybe it's that we have enough in our savings to buy a cheap replacement if the van dies totally. Maybe I'm finally getting a handle on this 'faith' thing. But I just think things will be all right.

At least, I'll keep telling myself that.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

a few changes

After I spent this morning spring-cleaning my office, and setting up a new desk (that is, in fact, an old retired kitchen table -- but it takes up a LOT less space than my desk and actually has more surface area) I thought it was time to give the ol' blog a shake-up.

I'll sort through things until I find a new banner that I like. Until then, enjoy the lighthouse. I was getting tired of the modular look of the other blog templates. I'd been avoiding this one because it's the longstanding appearance of a good friend's blog, but imitation is after all the sincerest form of flattery.

In other news, my mobility form (the little thingy that pastors send out so that people on call committees know we're not axe-murders) has been sent into my bishop's office and is apparently in the clutches of a call committee. But I don't think I'm supposed to publicize where, or with with whom, so I won't.

About the mobility form: I was a little disappointed that there wasn't really space to list "nightclub bouncer" as a skill set for ministry. Most pastors I know tell me it's an applicable talent (I kid, I kid...)

So, after all the years I've used blogger I still haven't figured out how to neatly post comments with pictures. But I also needed to seriously update pictures, because I realize most people who visit this blog rate my thoughts far below pictures of my children. Quite frankly, I agree with them. So, there are a bunch of new pictures posted below, but without explanations.

So here are a few explanations, if you're new to our little world:

the big bald guy = me. I shave my head because nature is taking care of what's left on top, and I don't like the 'binky the clown' look.

the gorgeous sweet lady = my codirector of contextual parenting and love of my life. She is currently redoing her M.Om in biochemical engineering. Her final project is due this fall.

the little dark guy = The Boy, our eldest son and heir.

the little pink guy = Boy2, a challenge from the Almighty.

Spot3 is due September 8. We have a picture of s/he from the Co-Director's 12-week ultrasound, but the best I can say is that I am currently the proud father of yet another amorphous blob. When the 20 week comes around, I'll see if I can scan one in to you to see.

I tend not to post their names in the blogsphere, but feel free to post a comment or two. If you know our kids, please respect their privacy by not using their names.

I'll keep ya'll posted on further developments. Promise. But also do me a favour: if you're new to our family, or been lurking for a while, please post a comment, so we can get to know you :)