
Leaves On the Water


Halloween is not really my holiday. But it’s a big deal around here so we often try to find alternatives to celebrate the day. Over the years, we’ve done all kinds of things. We’ve done harvest parties, day, trips, to Boston, trunk or treats. One year we even got kids gospel tracks and handed them out along with the candy, anything to sort of Christianize the day.
This year we bought lots of candy, put it in big bowls on the porch for the kids out trick-or-treating, and we decorated our Christmas tree. Amanda made our traditional Christmas tree, decorating food, beef, pinwheels, and veggie pizza. Joe and Kristine bought eggnog and three different kinds of juice and soda, I made an American chop Suey and we feasted. And we put decorations on the Christmas tree while greeting our neighbors as they came around.




It was a great night, and the beginning of a wonderful family tradition

I like playing with Photoshop. I haven’t taken any time to do it for a while. Here is my latest attempt with one of the pictures I took of the super moon the other night.

While I was at Bible study this morning, my daughter-in-law broke out the Christmas tree. I was just thinking this morning that it was almost time to decorate the Vicarage.
Season changes always create a conflict in me: The last days of one thing, the first days of another.
We are heading into the last days of autumn here in Massachusetts. First frost and maybe snow fly are scheduled for next week.
I had an opportunity to drive down to Wilbraham, for a pastors meeting, this week. The leaves were beautiful. So I took several opportunities to stop on the way home to take some pictures, some memories of the fading season.






Ministry has shifted again. I think this shift is at least for the winter. About a month and a half ago I moved my day off from Monday to Wednesday. Mondays became a morning Doing Life Together Group (our church’s small group Bible studies) and a worship devotional session at TWR House Of Prayer.
The schedule is now:Sunday church, Monday teaching and service work, Tuesday staff meeting pastoral meetings and Royal Rangers and somewhere in this I have to make sure my sermon is put together and sent off to the admin staff for power pointing.

The last several weeks I have been working on Wednesdays as I transitioned out of other ministry responsibilities. Last night was my first Ranger meeting and today is my first Wednesday Sabbath for real.
I got up this morning after the last three days of ministry and realized just how much I needed a sabbath.

I have known for many years how important sabbath is for the work of ministry. That said, it has been something I have pushed off many times for the necessity of the work. This new schedule is not going to permit that. I toyed with the idea for a while of keeping a couple of work items in the mix for Wednesdays. The way I feel today shows me just how much I will need this.
WHEN IS YOUR SABBATH?
Well, Brenda has returned to her home and ministry in The Netherlands after her six week breakaway.

She sent us a few pictures of her flight back.

And then some shots of her home in Zaandam just to prove she made it.

While she was with us, we had Sevy’s second birthday and Mom’s 87th birthday.


We took a trip to Tennessee to visit friends and to rest in the mountains.

She sang on worship team and visited with friends from the church and the area.
Now it is back to life as “normal” for both us and her. Brenda starts rehearsals for her Christmas shows this week. We have a worship conference and a Fall Festival in town this weekend.
I guess I am not really sure what “normal” is. Brenda says her house is quiet compared to ours. maybe that its back to normal, but I know our house is quieter too without her voice in the room and her present in the table.
Maybe normal is us here and her there. Maybe it is us doing our jobs. But maybe normal is just what we are used to and abnormal is the things we have yet to get used to. Anyway whatever normal is I know we miss Brenda and she misses us.
WHAT DO YOU THINK NORMAL IS?
Today, my mother turns 87 years young.

We will celebrate, simply: A few bouquets, some slippers for winter, a new sweater, cake and ice cream.

Mom has lived an exciting adventure. 87 years is a lot of water under the bridge and a host of life events.
A third generation, Winchendonian, mom’s life has never wandered far afield. She lives in a house, only a mile and a half from where she grew up. The Vicarage is the house she and my father bought when I was in third grade. Still, 87 years in one place can give a person a wealth of experience and wisdom.
My mother grew up on a small farm. She remembers having an outhouse before her father installed indoor plumbing. She learned how to milk a cow and how to gather eggs from chickens. She remembers canning fruits and vegetables for the winter and recalls hand ringing clothes before they were hung to dry outside.
Mom’s father, my grandfather, was a carpenter and a machinist at several local factories. He built the house they lived in with the help of his father and brothers.
Mom’s mother, my grandmother, was the daughter of Finnish, and Swedish immigrants. She ran a tight ship at home, but then she had to. She had eight children and a farm to run.

Mom was daughter number three and child number six. The Family didn’t have much money. Mom put herself through nursing school in Boston.
Her life has spanned: The great depression, World War II, the Korean conflict, Vietnam, 9/11 and Desert storm. Her life has been touched by every president from Roosevelt on.
She raised two children, both of them pastors. She worked as a nurse in four different health care systems. She was married to a small businessman, my father, for 24 years and lived as a widow for thirty years.
Mom traveled the Unites States. She has seen Puerto Rico and Germany. She has visited Old Faithful and the Grand Canyon, DisneyLand and Disney World.
She has served in roles in GirlScouts and Soccer. She was President of Women’s Club and played Golf and Tennis on leagues at different times in her life.
Her world is smaller now. She doesn’t leave home and many of her memories have been stolen by this horrible disease, dementia. It’s a new part of her journey and there is more ahead because life doesn’t end with this life. We celebrate 87 years today, but we also celebrate the years ahead into eternity.
In July, my son and his family moved back from South Korea. In the middle of August, my sister, Brenda returned to the vicarage for a six week break away.
But Long before they returned, my daughter, Melanie, and her girls Had begun visiting my mother on Tuesday nights while her husband, James and I led a boy’s group at our church, And while Amanda led the teen ministry of our church.
Melanie and I actually had the discussionAbout whether or not her Tuesday night visits should continue with all the extra people in the house. I said yes. I thought we should not stop a healthy, family ritual, rather, we should build on it.
So this summer, Melanie and James have continued to come over with the girls on Tuesday nights. Sometimes, they’ve been the only ones here with mom. Sometimes, they have held game nights with their siblings. sometimes, Melanie has had a meeting, so James has brought the girls. And sometimes like last night, everyone except Amanda was here.
The three grandchildren were running around, making all kinds of noise. We adults spread throughout the house, having group and private conversations. Melanie gave mom a manicure. It was chaos. It was wonderful.
I realize that in a few weeks, James and I will be back teaching the boys group. Brenda will be back in the Netherlands. Amanda will be teaching the teens. But for this brief time we have a season of Tuesday nights. I will cherish them while I have them. And I will cherish them in my memory when they have passed.
On our way home from Tennessee we stopped in Gettysburg Pennsylvania for a tour of the battlefield.



The battle of Gettysburg took place from July 1-3,1863 in the streets and in the field around Gettysburg. By the battle’s end over 51,000 men were dead.


In the fields around this house the troops of the Massachusetts 22nd fought. It is strange to think that men from my home state fought and died right here.

It was a fascinating historical tour. As I drove these fields I was reminded of that quote by T. Rowe, “Those who forget their history are doomed to repeat it.”

I feel like we have forgotten.