Slim Pickins

It was late Thursday night.  I had just finished dropping one of Brady's friends off at his house.  They had just come back from a night at youth being pulled while sitting on tubes, behind ATV's, while holding on to a ski pole. 

I don't know either. 

Alas, the night had been a tiring one. so the conversation was not prolific.  Okay, I realize we are talking about two guys here, so it is never prolific, mostly just grunts and farts but I digress. (I know, sorry mom, I mentioned "farting" again.  My mom was a little worried that I might not get a new job if I talk about "farts" in my blog because a potential employer might read this and not hire me.  It's not the farts mom, it's pretty much the entire deal.  And I have not even mentioned the "Poo Log").  Honestly, I am trying not to mention "windies", but they just happen to fit in with this post. 

Oh, who am I kidding, farts fit just about anywhere.  Seriously, even funerals.  

A few years ago we were at the graveside of my mother-in-law Marilyn.  She had recently lost a four year battle to cancer.  Loved "Mars."  We had a sweet relationship.  Only a few nights before she passed away, I had traveled up to Edmonton from Calgary to visit her in the hospital.  It had been a number of weeks since I had been up to see her and things were going down hill.  At this point, she was not able to speak and fairly weak, although she was still fairly aware of her surroundings. 

When I entered the hospital room our eyes met, and I said, "Mom, listen, you don't need to say anything.  Honestly we can just keep it between us, but I know I have always been your favorite son-in-law.  Don't worry, I won't tell anyone.  It's just between you and me.  My lips are sealed."  I figure I got the biggest eye roll I have ever seen.  I am pretty sure she tried to utter, "Yes you are" but if I were to be honest, it closer to "Who let him in here."   But potatoe patatoe... 

Well, a number of family and friends are at the graveside service. 
 It is April in Alberta and therefore it is a snowy muddy mess.  There is a rather small area directly around the grave, so the immediate family (Carla's 2 brothers, sister, spouses, dad, and kidlets) are up close, and the rest of those attending are about 15 feet or so behind.  It has already been an exhausting day for the whole family.  Many tears were already shed at the memorial service.   The graveside service is nearing an end, emotions are high and it is  coming close to the point where the family are going to put some flowers on the casket, as the final act of saying goodbye.  Everyone is feeling it.   At this point, as the pastor begins to share some final thoughts, I am standing beside my brother-in-law Paul (married to Carla's sister Shauna), who is holding his young son Joel's hand.  Joel has been a trooper, yet we are all aware that he is edging extremely close to capacity for sitting still.  Paul is doing his best, but knew he better take the kid out quick or something is going to blow.  He was a little late.  Joel let's a huge fart rip.  Like huge.  Loud enough that Carla's entire family could hear it.  Well, Carla's two brothers start to lose it.  They can barely contain themselves.  And let's get serious, that sets us all off.  We are crying with laughter.  To boot, the rest of those gathered have no clue what has happened and only see the entire family sobbing.  People are so overcome with our apparent grief that they start crying.  Unbelievable. 

So yes, farts can squeeze in nicely pretty much anywhere. 

Anyway, B-man and I were finishing the last few minutes of the ride home catching up about the day, when our convo took a turn.

"Dad, I was thinking that you could sell my snowboard stuff."

"Why do you say that buddy?"


"Well, I don't think we are going to go up to Big White anytime soon."

"I don't think you can say that Brady I..."

I clued in to where he was going with it.

"Does this have anything to do with me not working?"


"Yea.  It's just that I know money is tight and I don't want you to feel any pressure, and I know snowboarding is really expensive, and I can always learn next year."

It was at this point I considered stopping our van, jumping out, lying down in front of it and telling my son to drive over me.  Twice.  It was like my heart was ripped out of my chest.  Man, when your life as an adult starts to impact your kids at that level, it sucks.  Plain and simple.  As you walk whatever journey you are on being an adult, I think you try and maintain a certain level of hope and promise for your kids, so as to somehow shelter them from the reality of what is going down sometimes.  When that facade breaks, the darkness comes running.

It's not easy being unemployed for obvious reasons.  It's harder for the unexpected ones.  Like telling your kids that you really do believe God cares enough to take an active role in your life.  That he can be trusted.  That he will show up.  That he has already showed up.  But that Christmas is gonna look a little different this year.  That we have to be extra careful about spending money.  That...

I think too many "that's" started clouding the picture for Brady.   I told him we were not going to sell his gear and we most certainly will go to Big White this year.    What else do you say?  I would buy that kid the whole mountain.  But sometimes, the doubt creeps in for me too.

Do I doubt God?  Nope. 
Do I doubt my capacity to fully trust him all the time?  Yep. 

I found some respite in a little story tucked into a book of the Bible.  Luke.  Chapter 7 verses 18 - 21.  John is one of Jesus' best friends.  They are tight. Yet John is not having a good day.  So much so, that he is just a wee bit uncertain about this whole life commitment deal to Jesus.  So, being a man, John asks two friends to go and talk to Jesus on his behalf.  Unreal.  Alas, the two dudes find Jesus and ask "John was wondering if you are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?" Beautiful.  So, Jesus, are you being tricky or what?  Like can I really believe you are the Messiah, the guy who came to redeem his people or am I just kidding myself.  Cause you know what?  I am freaking out here Jesus!"

Jesus drops the hammer.   Giddy up boys.

(Verse 21-23)
"At that very time Jesus cured many who had diseases, sicknesses and evil spirits, and gave sight to many who were blind. So he replied to the messengers, “Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.”

"John, it is all good.  I am the real deal.  But dude, don't let me trip you up.  If your trust is fickle your faith will be futile."

Again Jesus gently, graciously, powerfully, precisely responds to his friends doubts.   And in turn responds to mine. 

Scott you can freak out, you can struggle, you can wonder why your kids have to endure this journey with you, you can try and figure out the timing but if you believe.  Believe.  Cause I am who I say I am and I can do what I say I can do.  And frankly, you can take that to the mountain.  

Let me tell you, the money might be slim, but the journey is rich.