Mothers Day

Mothers Day means you are more than just a mom. Certainly more than just a wife.

The sum of your intrinsic attributes are greater than your whole person. Your identity goes beyond maternal gifting or spousal responsibility.

You are a creation of God that defies celebrating your uniqueness on just one day of the year. You encompass all the attributes of a godly woman …

Who can find a virtuous and capable wife? She is more precious than rubies.

“There are many virtuous and capable women in the world, but you surpass them all!” Proverbs 31:26-29

Age of Maturity

Is it the grey hair showing up in the beard? Has my “grumpy” quotient increased exponentially since my 20′s & 30′s? Is it the not so chiseled six-pack? (Actually it’s more of a single pack now)

It’s funny, but the things I used to do at a younger age (mostly in my 20′s) did not necessarily cause me to pause and think before taking action.

Testosterone? Yes, to some extent. Lack of maturity? In certain situations, most assuredly. When you are young, you sometimes have a deluded sense of invincibility.

As I thought about this, I recalled an extended motorcycle group ride with friends one year ago on Good Friday. In Christian circles that day that is set aside to remember the scourging and crucifixion and death of Jesus Christ. Now here is someone who had put his life on the line….literally for ones who really could not care less about Him. It is a day usually set aside globally for reflection, remembrance, thankfulness and forgiveness.

On that very day while standing with my fellow bike friends in a parking lot beside a highway in Owen Sound, we watched many bikes go by. Cruisers, sport bikes, choppers…all kinds. One sound particular caught our collective ear as it rose in pitch, coming in from the east. As we turned to track the sound we noted a bright fluorescent green super sport bike with two passengers. As it came abreast of our group the driver decided to do a wheelie – ostensibly to impress the standing group of bikers it was currently passing. (I believe I had previously mentioned something about delusions – immaturity – whacked out perceptions of invincibility).

Now our code of conduct as a social family riding group advocates that safety is always paramount. As I watched the sport bike whizz past with the passenger hanging on to the driver with the front wheel in the air, I thought about the two hundred (for some three hundred) or so kilometres that we had just navigated prior to getting to Owen Sound. Two to three hundred kilometres of hand signals, speed limit pacing; watching for scurrying animals, road debris, watching out for other riders in the group, watching for cars passing and coming in the opposite direction.

Apart from the fact that this rider was breaking the law, I wondered if he (I assumed it was a he) was older or younger than I was. Not that stupidity is limited to young, highly testosterone-charged males of the current dominant species; I just could not envision myself doing that. Not just now, but at any age. Thankfully my wuss-factor is of a high order – my wife would probably say not as high as the grumpy one, but high nonetheless. I am supremely grateful that I started riding in my mid-forties. Lots of time for unused testosterone to get flushed from the system.

What is interesting is that as a young man in my twenties I used to fly aircraft in and around the mountains of British Columbia. Updrafts, downdrafts, crosswinds, Mountain Waves, Standing Lenticular clouds and sundry other meteorological phenomenon were in abundance to keep any misguided aspirations of aberrant behaviour from taking root. There are miles of plane wrecks all across the BC interior to attest to that form of thinking.

As the whine of the sport bike dopplered off into the west, we communally shook our heads and prepared for the final one to two hundred kilometres back to our homes. A couple of hours later with the bike a little bit dustier, but safely nestled in the garage, I was relaxing watching the news on TV when my ears perked up about a motorcycle accident.

The news announcer said that two men were allegedly racing their motorcycles on a Mississauga street Friday evening when according to police, one of them crashed and died. Around 7 p.m., the pair were trying to exit from Mavis Rd. onto the eastbound lanes of Highway 401, when one of the bikes lost control and drove off the road, snapping a highway marker in half and skidding into a ditch.

The 31-year-old driver was taken to hospital where he was pronounced dead. His name had not been released pending notification of next of kin. It was reported by police that a 32-year-old man who was riding the other motorcycle left the scene. Within a few hours, police had tracked him down and charged him with dangerous operation of a motor vehicle causing death while street racing, criminal negligence causing death while street racing and driving while suspended.

I thought again about this special holiday. While not everyone may adhere to its tenets, for my part I reflected on the beautiful day riding with friends; I remembered how I thought as a younger man; and how thankful I am now for being forgiven for some of the idiotic choices I made in my youth. The opportunity for wisdom that comes with age allows me the privilege of appreciating what I have now.

Maintain Balance

Nothing matters but the week-end from a Tuesday point of view.
The Kings: This Beat Goes On/Switching To Glide

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
Matt 6:24

One promotes getting out as soon as possible, from what feels oppressive. One provides opportunity for taking things one day at a time, regardless of the circumstances.

Of course even the drudgery of weekdays can be incentive enough to appreciate the fact that if you are reading this, you are still breathing and more than likely able to appreciate another day of this gift called life.

Have a great day!

The Real Deal

By Steven James, Special to CNN

The Bible is a gritty book. Very raw. Very real. It deals with people just like us, just as needy and screwed up as we are, encountering a God who would rather die than spend eternity without them.

Yet despite that, it seems like Christians are uncomfortable with how earthy the Bible really is. They feel the need to tidy up God.

For example, look in any modern translation of Isaiah 64:6, and you’ll find that, to a holy God, even our most righteous acts are like “filthy rags.” The original language doesn’t say “filthy rags”; it says “menstrual rags.” But that sounds a little too crass, so let’s just call them filthy instead.

And let’s not talk so much about Jesus being naked on the cross, and let’s pretend Paul said that he considered his good deeds “a pile of garbage” in Philippians 3:8 rather than a pile of crap, as the Greek would more accurately be translated.

And let’s definitely not mention the six times in the Old Testament that the Jewish writers referred to Gentile men as those who “pisseth against the wall.” (At least the King James Version got that one right.)

The point?

God’s message was not meant to be run through some arbitrary, holier-than-thou politeness filter. He intended the Bible to speak to people where they’re at, caught up in the stark reality of life on a fractured planet.

Dozens of Psalms are complaints and heart-wrenching cries of despair to God, not holy-sounding, reverently worded soliloquies. Take Psalm 77:1-3: “I cry out to God; yes, I shout. Oh, that God would listen to me! When I was in deep trouble, I searched for the Lord. All night long I prayed, with hands lifted toward heaven, but my soul was not comforted. I think of God, and I moan, overwhelmed with longing for his help” (New Living Translation).

And rather than shy away from difficult and painful topics, the Old Testament includes vivid descriptions of murder, cannibalism, witchcraft, dismemberment, torture, rape, idolatry, erotic sex and animal sacrifice. According to St. Paul, those stories were written as examples and warnings for us (1 Corinthians 10:11). So obviously they were meant to be retold without editing out all the things we don’t consider nice or agreeable.

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I believe that Scripture includes such graphic material to show how far we, as a race, have fallen and how far God was willing to come to rescue us from ourselves.

God is much more interested in honesty than pietism.

And that’s what he gives us throughout Scripture, telling the stories of people who struggled with the same issues, questions and temptations we face today.

Peter struggled with doubt, and we hear all about it.

Elijah dealt with depression; Naomi raged with bitterness against God; Hannah struggled for years under the burden of her unanswered prayers.

David had an affair and then arranged to have his lover’s husband killed. Noah was a drunk, Abraham a liar, Moses a murderer. Job came to a place where he found it necessary to make a covenant with his eyes not to lust after young girls (Job 31:1).

It’s easy to make “Bible heroes” (as Protestants might say) or “saints” (as Catholics might refer to them) out to be bigger than life, immune from the temptations that everyone faces.

I find it encouraging that Jesus never came across as pietistic. In fact, he was never accused of being too religious; instead he partied so much that he was accused of being a drunkard and a glutton (Matthew 11:19).

Jesus never said, “The Kingdom of God is like a church service that goes on and on forever and never ends.” He said the kingdom was like a homecoming celebration, a wedding, a party, a feast to which all are invited.

This idea was too radical for the religious leaders of his day. They were more concerned about etiquette, manners, traditions and religious rituals than about partying with Jesus. And that’s why they missed out.

That’s why we miss out.

According to Jesus, the truly spiritual life is one marked by freedom rather than compulsion (John 8:36), love rather than ritual (Mark 12:30-33) and peace rather than guilt (John 14:27). Jesus saves us from the dry, dusty duties of religion and frees us to cut loose and celebrate.

I don’t believe we’ll ever recognize our need for the light until we’ve seen the depth of the darkness. So God wasn’t afraid to get down and dirty with us about life and temptation and forgiveness. And grace.

Only when the Bible seems relevant to us (which it is), only when the characters seem real to us (which they were), only then will the message of redemption become personal for us (which it was always meant to be).

We don’t need to edit God. We need to let him be the author of our new lives.

Racism: A Response

My response to a recent Orangeville Banner Newspaper article.

Before I emigrated to Canada almost 34 years ago, my parents took my brother and I, then 9 and 14 years old respectively, on a European vacation. Ostensibly to visit and learn about new and diverse cultures that were different from ours. Unbeknownst to me at the time, that European trip was to be my initial exposure to racism against my family and myself. While unfortunate, it prepared my brother and I for our move to Canada from the country of our birth, Jamaica.

Of those 34 years in Canada, 21 of them have been in Orangeville and the surrounding Dufferin County area. Although elements of racism, whether overt or subtle, still exist in our society, I was extremely aggrieved to hear that my friend Josh (of Soulyve Restaurant) and his family were the victims of its ignorance, especially here in Orangeville.

In recent times, there has been talk about certain minority groups taking up residence or working in Orangeville, and what that purportedly does or does not do for our town. Yes, as with any growing community, there will be aspects of its growth and development that cause the “crabs in the bucket” to surface, as Josh so eloquently put it. More importantly, and what I believe is often overlooked, is that the majority of people, (including visible minorities), that choose to make Orangeville their home, do so because of its safe neighbourhoods; excellent schools; business opportunities; among its many other inherent attractions for young families.

A person’s initial experience with an individual or community of people, can and does have a lasting impression. If someone has suffered a bad experience from a person of a particular people group, unfortunately not only does that encounter leave a lasting bitter taste, it sometimes can be the impetus to brand that entire cultural group persona non grata.

Throughout history racism has fed the superiority complex of not only individuals, but whole societies. The victims of its onslaught were hardly ever viewed in an objective manner. Some were even considered as less than human. Conversely, it is sometimes difficult for these same victims not to erect walls of distrust against their racist perpetrators and the society they claim to represent. Preconceived notions on both sides, are usually acquired through unfortunate experiences, that can cause jaded belief systems to take root. Sometimes those beliefs are passed down from generation to generation.

While short-sighted individuals may live among us, I believe that the majority of Orangeville’s citizens are not closed minded, at least from a cultural standpoint. I have raised my children in Orangeville; from Kindergarten through to University and we have established deep friendships here.

I live, work, worship and contribute to the health of our community, and I will not stand by and let clueless, cowardly, racist individuals disparage my town or my friends. I would pray that those who do so are minuscule in their number. At the same time I hope that these same individuals will begin to see how much better their town is for the diversity and contributions that committed, entrepreneurial risk takers like Josh, bring to it.

Any vibrant, growing town will have its growing pains, but the heart of any community is its people. Orangeville is not without its imperfections, and differing social and economic viewpoints will always provide fodder for debate, but compared to a lot of other locales, it still is a fantastic place to live.

Defining Your Worth

Do you ever feel your worth as a person is devalued, or that your ability to contribute, provide for, or offer effective support to someone, or some cause seems to be tenuous at best? Maybe an alternative view of oneself is in order.

The acquisition of wisdom is usually tempered in the crucible of experience, while at the same time being validated through the process of ageing.

Wisdom and insight borne of experience require time to be established. In our current society, patience is not so much a virtue, but an anomaly to be avoided or kept at bay, seemingly at all costs. Patience has the uncanny ability of getting in the way of instant gratification.

We, as carbon-based life forms, are not predisposed to wait for any length of time for anything.

Want to retire early? How early in life did you discipline yourself to start saving?

Want to maintain a healthy lifestyle? What are your eating habits? Do you regularly exercise?

Do you want to take a vacation or buy a new car? Do you take the time and effort to save the money first, or use a credit card?

Sometimes our inability to be effective providers and contributors (whether to family or society) is directly proportional to how we view ourselves. Some have gone through terrible situations of loss and abuse that have left an indelible mark on their psyche, which in turn has resulted in unfortunate, but no less real perceptions of themselves that mitigate having a full, productive and engaging life.

Others have had what could be construed as a gilded life, never having to lack for anything. But even that viewpoint can be dangerous. Wealth and privilege are not substitutes for experiencing and being taught compassion, love or commitment. Conversely, poverty does not guarantee a person’s proper perspective on what is of value; whether physical, emotional or material. Our environment, upbringing and inherent genetics go a long way in determining how we view ourselves through all stages of life.

So the next time you feel inclined to look at yourself through the influential yet problematic lens of comparison to others, take a moment and celebrate your uniqueness. If you find it difficult identifying something of value in yourself, then know that although you may sense being alone in your feelings, you are, and never were an afterthought.

When my bones were being formed, carefully put together in my mother’s womb, when I was growing there in secret, you knew that I was there. You saw me before I was born. The days allotted to me had all been recorded in your book, before any of them ever began. (Psalm 139:15, 16)

Body Moves

2.5 km.

Ok not exactly a marathon; and barely a warmup for those with slow twitch muscles, but it’s a start.

Speaking of slow, I would have liked to say that I planned it that way, but it was inevitable. When 30km/hr gusts make it feel like -24C, going at a steady rate is a challenge; but I got it done despite bucking the headwinds.

It continues to be an ongoing argument with myself, but I have to keep remembering that I am not 20 anymore and certainly not at my previous pre-olympic level of fitness.

So, the games have begun.

3rd Rule of Denial

Never shop for groceries when you are hungry. This lines up with the ever prescient Ferengi Rule of Acquisition #214: Never begin a negotiation on an empty stomach. 

I have come to understand that self-control is a practice and lifestyle best learned by not seeking out a reason to have it exercised. If you do, then you can risk more than you bargain for. So instead of the arguably succulent dessert choices (milk and eggs are healthy ingredients, right?), I chose crunchier fare.

Yesterday an internal choice was made. Today involves an external choice. Going out for an involuntary Stress Test; as I like to call jogging. Given that an Arctic Cold Air Mass will be my companion, this should banish all thoughts of warm fuzzies from both the mind and nether regions alike.

When completed, I will inform you thusly on whether I have decided to have my admittedly colder head examined.

Day 4 ‘Fess Up

Well, after saying that I would address the issue of my lack of initiative on maintaining good health, what have I done thus far?

Nada!

Still more to come. (Sigh)

Body of Evidence

Bringing my body into submission for fitness sake.

So in an attempt to keep myself accountable health-wise, I have decided to chronicle my efforts at bringing balance back to my physical health. If Mayor Rob Ford of Toronto can do it, then why not?

Given my current disposition, this is not unlike bringing balance to The Force. It will invariably involve exposure to intense opposition from forces (self-inflicted and external) bent on my destruction; alien beings from some trans-dimensional space-time continuum, who consider me to be nothing but space fodder. There will also be a requirement to identify and seek out divine intervention from a Messianic Entity begotten via Immaculate Conception. Seriously.

But first a little preamble.

I have always been active (well…historically anyway). From my early teens I participated in Soccer and Track & Field. Track & Field held my interest up until my College/University days. Training 6 days a week and attending school full-time, plus homework proved a challenge. No regrets though as my training regimen afforded me the opportunity to travel across Canada and the USA for training and Track Meets.

If I have any claim to fame it is that I was fortunate to compete in the Canadian Olympic Track & Field Trials in Winnipeg Manitoba during the summer of 1979. That was the year prior to Canada boycotting the 1980 Moscow Olympics. I never did make the Olympic team but still had a good showing in my events; 110 metre hurdles, along with the 100 & 200 meter sprints. You can deduce form these events that I was not a middle or long distance competitor. Oh I did unknowingly allow myself to be talked into the 400 meter sprint on a couple of occasions. The fortunate fallout of that blissfully fuzzy timeframe resulted in Lactic Acid and I never reconciling our differences; even to this day.

Up until about 3 years ago I was competing with my daughter (then 18) on a national level in Shito-Ryu Itosi Kai Karate. Even made it into the top five nationally in my division – Brown Belt. As life is known to do, it happens. Got laid off from work and all motivation to complete my Black Belt ranking evaporated.

Now there is a big time difference between a young man in his twenties, competing for a spot on an Olympic team and a somewhat used half-century old, grey-bearded contemplator, feverishly trying to maintain visual line of sight with a navel that he could have sworn existed in his younger days. And that ladies and gentlemen, is one of the primary motivators to get myself in some semblance of healthy order. Yes, having a balanced blood pressure, low cholesterol, more energy, better sleeping patterns and the increased probability that I will be around to see my grandchildren, are all high priority reasons for getting in better shape. But tracking down my elusive navel…well you could say it was the tipping point that has brought me to where I am today.

Speaking of which, I am 6ft tall and tip the scales at 245lbs (with clothes). I am going to grab my first Mulligan and say 240lbs when naked. My desire is to lose 45lbs. My realistic goal is to initially get to a minimum 25lb reduction by my next birthday (Sep 5th). It is now Feb 2nd. I will post all future missives (on my blog; swedwards.com and Twitter: @cynapz) about my attempts (and failures) during the process as I aim for that goal.

Well, if you feel like a good laugh, or cry for that matter; or are just willing to risk being exposed to that which will cause you to gasp in horror, you are welcome to come along for the ride.

Your comments, suggestions, heck even your criticisms are welcome. Just keep things clean and constructive.

Stay Tuned.

I discipline my body like an athlete, training it to do what it should. Otherwise, I fear that after preaching to others I myself might be disqualified. | 1 Cor 9:27 [NLT]