YESTERDAY, TODAY and TOMORROW

Here are 213 powerful words that I discovered YESTERDAY in a quiet graveyard of south Scarborough. There under a beautiful Maple tree was a brass plaque that was placed by Percy and Nancy Harris…

These words are settling into my life TODAY. They are also starting to infiltrate areas of my life that will come up TOMORROW.

The plaque itself is mounted to a fair sized granite stone and sits quietly for the next person that it will stop and rearrange their life.

Consider these 213 words below…

There are two days in every week about which we should not worry, two days which should be kept from fear and apprehension.

One of these is YESTERDAY with its mistakes and cares, its faults and blunders, its aches and pains. YESTERDAY is passed forever beyond our control.

All the money in the world cannot bring back YESTERDAY. We cannot undo a single act that we performed: we cannot erase a single word we said. YESTERDAY is gone.

The other day we should not worry about is TOMORROW with its possible adversities, its burdens, its large promise and poor performance. TOMORROW is beyond our immediate control.

TOMORROW’S sun will rise, either in splendor or beyond a mask of clouds-but it will rise. Until it does, we have no stake in TOMORROW, for it is yet unborn.

That leaves only one day – TODAY – Any man can fight the battles of just one day. It is only when you and I add the burdens of those two awful eternities – YESTERDAY and TOMORROW that we break down.

It is not the experience of TODAY that drives men mad – it is the remorse or bitterness for something that happened YESTERDAY and the dread of what TOMORROW may bring.

Let us, therefore, live but one day at a time.
~ Percy and Nancy Harris ~

Not far from this spot are some graves that are very important in our family. One of these graves I stood over yesterday.

I brought my grandsons, Jonathan, Thomas, Michael and Christopher over to look at their other Grandpa’s grave marker. William Rourke – 1936 – 1966 is engraved on the brass plaque. One of the boys reached down and brushed the grass cuttings from the face of the plaque. Together they looked intently at their family name on the marker in front of them.

Their other Grandpa was only 30 years old when he died in an airplane accident in the mountains of British Columbia, Their Grandma had been 5 months pregnant with their son Bill – who is their dad.

Bill and Lois Rourke were a young couple their whole life was before them. He was a rising star as a Pastor and Evangelist across Canada. She was a radiant young mom-to-be who was also an accomplished musician. Suddenly on that fateful day – William Rourke II and his friend, another pastor, died alone on that mountain side in a remote valley outside of the Prince George area. His young wife was widowed.

It is a long story that is now 42 years old. Lois moved to New Jersey to live with her mom and dad. Then when her parents retired they came to live with Lois for the rest of their lives. She supported them all these years – until this past week when her mom passed away at 101 years old.

Lois is one amazing lady that has become for me the ultimate example of someone that lives in her TODAY. She discovered the 213 words before they were placed on the plaque not far from her husband’s grave.

YESTERDAY was Lois’ Fifth Time to stand at this graveside in 42 years. She has left her TOMORROWs in God’s hands. Almost two years ago now she announced her plans to marry Manne Idestrom – a widower – that marriage took place on the last day of 2007. YESTERDAY she stood hand in hand with her husband and son Bill (My son-in-law that I am very proud of…!)

I have to stop this post… it may become a Love Story and a great Canadian novel. But that is what every great novel is made up of…isn’t it… a whole lot of wonderful TODAYs strung closely together with love.

~ Murray Lincoln ~

“This is a Perfect Day!"

“This is a Perfect Day! I am so …!” Then he stopped and struggle for more words. He asked, “What is a better word for what I feel?”

I replied, “Happy…?”

He said, “Yah, Happy is perfect for what I feel.”

Rej struggles with his words now. At times it is worse than other times. There is a brain tumor growing in his head now. It has covered and infiltrated most of the right side of his brain – so his left side is paralyzed. His left leg still supports him but his arm will not function any longer. His speech is slow but he can communicate.

Rej shares a love with me. We carve wood together. Recently he completed his very first wood carving. His son had cartooned a snake and Rej carved it for him.

Yesterday Rej and I took his carving and some of mine to Bobcaygeon, Ontario to place them in the Kawartha Wood Carving Show. For me it was a nice drive to a great activity. For Rej it was more. It was his first drive in the country after about four years of going no where.

You see Rej has been in prison for a few years. Since coming out he has not traveled anywhere. The daily routine of maintaining his life has been about all he can do. Each afternoon he lays down to rest. The stuff going on inside of him really makes it hard to do much.

Arriving at the Wood Carving Show it was necessary to climb the stairs – about 15 of them to get to the second story of a large community center. We couldn’t find an elevator to make it up there. So the stairs were his biggest challenge of the week. But he wanted to see the carvings so badly he would tackle anything. Later on the ride home he was exhausted just from the stair climbing up and down.

You see… Rej must be thinking very carefully on every step as to how he will shift his weight and then move his good leg to the next step up or down…while feeling nothing with the other side. His good arm clutches the walking stick that he has clipped to his forearm.

As we came from the Carving Show and drove slowly along the street he sighed deeply again, “I am so happy… this is the best day of my life.” Then he exclaimed, “Look at that! That is wonderful – so beautiful.”

Ahead of us was a sunset over the water way in Bobcaygeon(photo above). It was a colour display like no other I had ever witnessed. Each of them seems better than the last however. But in front of us was perhaps the best we have witnessed for a while. This was especially true for Rej. In prison you never see a sunset. You are in your cell by 8 PM and you miss all of them for as many days as you are living there. For Rej that has been a while.

This morning as I reflect on what took place for us last evening… I am sure that God gave Rej and me that special gift together. I took photos that captured some of what we saw. Together we had savored the beauty in front of us. It was one very special moment.

Rej asked, “Do you think we can stop for coffee at Tim Hortons? I am buying.” Then he grinned. “This has been a wonderful day and coffee together would make it even better.”

I have taken so much for granted… so very much. What passes me by quickly – or what I pass by quickly is a treasure for Rej…in fact every moment of every day is a treasure to Rej.

Last evening Rej’s parting comment was, “I can’t wait to see if I win a Ribbon…”

Today I am out to find more treasure as we say Good Bye to a 101 year old “Grand Old Lady of the Church”, Wenonah Barnes. Then I will travel to see our treasured wood carvings…and maybe pick up a Ribbon for Rej…maybe…?

~ Murray Lincoln ~

Legacy

“How will we make it? We have nothing to lose now. It is all gone…”

As money evaporated with the market problems everyone was more than a little worried what would happen. How would they go on? Even people without great Stock Portfolios wondered what would happen.

My parents were both in their early childhood when 1929 – on Black Tuesday – October 28 & 29th. My mom was 8 years old then. Dad was about 12 years old. They went through the transition from the Roaring Twenties to the Dirty Thirties – and survived successfully.

How could that be? The answer is simple I believe. There was treasure buried within the family. The treasure was not something you could put you fingers on – like gold or silver or even cash. It was treasure that came from your ability to do something with your life or hands.

I have stated this before… “Don’t be afraid to learn something new.” It was my Dad’s special survival technique – his ‘mantra’. He was able to move through life with an ability to adapt to whatever was thrown his way.

In Saskatchewan, World War II was thrust into his early working dreams and changed everything for him. His first real jobs began as a farm hand working for others at pay that would be a pittance. Then opportunity came to join the war effort and he began work in a factory making large guns as a lathe operator/machinist.

With the end of the W.W. II he began a job in a small community in the town garage. It would begin his journey toward being a journeyman mechanic. In that job he would also do the machine shop work operating a lathe doing various jobs.

Later through another opportunity opening in front of him, he would be hired at the new and growing Government Garage – that worked on the large fleet of Government Vehicles that fanned out across the Province of Saskatchewan.

In a shift of moods within the Province, the political elements changed. In his mid fifties he would lose his job as mechanic at the Government Garage. The newly elected Liberal Government shut the whole thing down and sent all Government vehicles to Liberal Supporter’s garages.

Dad lived his mantra again and found a new job as a Machinist with a place called Brandt Electric and then the very large Stelco – a prairie steel company. His job was to operate huge lathes that machined the fine rollers for rolling steel sheets.

The look in his eyes as he described his new job was amazing. There was new fire as he learned a new craft of huge machines. He wrote his papers for and qualified for a Journeyman Machinist in this job. Amazing for a man his age.

All the while he built The Lincoln Motor repair business that he was so well known for over many years.

Time went on and a new position opened at the Provincial Jail in Regina. It was not a glamorous position in my mind. He was to be the maintenance man for the whole place. His description was simple, “When a toilet is broken, I fix it. When a jail cell lock doesn’t work I fix it. When the sewage holding tank needs cleaning I clean it.”

I looked at him as if he was crazy. Why would he take that kind of ‘demotion’ in all appearance? Especially when he had achieved his writing of his qualification papers as a Machinist now. Why leave these jobs for this Government Job as Super Janitor? It didn’t make sense at all!

His work with the men inside 0f the jail, the offenders was amazing. Everyone saw his ability to work with the men. Even the dirtiest job like cleaning the putrid sewage holding tanks had men volunteering to work with him. He had built a good relationship with the different guys that he had work for him. The management “saw his ability” and suggested that he apply for another position within the Jail – the Welding Shop Instructor.

Over the years Dad had learned welding as early as the old garages on the farm had existed. He had operated the blacksmithing part of any early garage on the prairies with the Forge and Anvil. His step up to the acetylene tanks and torches had happened years ago. So the new offer was not that hard to accept.

A man that had not yet completed his High School Diploma let alone college of any sort was now the Welding Instructor.

Under the amazing leadership of his Staff Supervisor he not only received his qualifications a Journeyman Welder he also completed his High School equivalency and graduated from High School at around 58 years old. They then offered him the opportunity to go on to University to study more. But that never happened – he planned to retire at 60 years old.

If I sound like I am bragging on my Pop – you bet I am. He was amazing.

Yesterday I re-discovered something that I already knew. Kind of funny actually when I think of it. My Dad was very creative. In 1957 he bought his first good camera. It was a Zeis Ikon, 35 mm camera.

I have been looking through the 1000s of slides that he took. I have also been trying to scan some on to the computer hard drive of my kids and grandkids. Ity is amazing what he did with his small camera.

There is the small boxes of slides is our entire family treasure – hundreds of photos of early times that are forgotten. People that are now long gone – were captured for their children to see… on small 35 mm slides. What a legacy to discover.

I am blessed to witness this long gone treasure again. These old home slide shows that once bored us to death now are soon to be new DVDs for the Lincoln and Kirkpatrick Clans to see.

As I sat there pondering yesterday this treasure that I have found in some old boxes I was amazed again.

This is all made possible because of my radical change of jobs in my late life and career… 90 some days ago.

It is appropriate that it should happen yesterday. Today I sign my new contract with the Ontario Department of Colleges as a newly minted Self Employed Benefits Program particpant. I am going back to school at 64 years and 5 months old.

I checked in the mirror this morning and there is something special happening – I have a twinkle in my eye – just like my Dad did. It is really there and I have never felt more alive than NOW.

Finally – here is photo from one of the slides that made me giggle when it popped up on the computer screen… or so many memories… so very many.
Believe it or not… this is Murray, Glen, Pat and young Karen – about a million years ago. Oh Boy!

~ Murray Lincoln ~

Brian Sinclair, 45 – PART TWO – This Should Never Have Happened

Following my earlier post about Brian Sinclair… one of the readers wrote the following response. It certainly brought memories for this one as well.

This person is from Peterborough and the PRHC is their hospital.

I can relate to today's Blog. On one of my recent trips to the ER of our new hospital. My daughter and I waited in the waiting room for many hours after reporting to the triage desk. Several times my daughter went to the triage desk to see if we had missed hearing my name called. This was certainly possible because, with that many people waiting, there is usually a high volume of conversation noise, and sometimes you find yourself engaged in conversation with someone else.

After many hours of waiting, and many trips to the washroom to relieve myself of the bladder pressure and the mostly blood that my bladder was complaining about, one of the nurses called out a list of names, and just before leading this group in to the examining area, she looked at me and asked my name. She then riffed through the pages on her clipboard and said, "You must nave not heard your name called; you were called hours ago. Come now with this group." When I got into the examining room, I explained to the nurse there that I was told that I had missed hearing my name called. She replied, "Your name was never called. They misplaced your file in the triage unit."

I could just as easily have died in the ER waiting room, as did the poor man in Winnipeg, had my condition been as grave as his.

On another occasion I was told by my urologist, when my daughter phoned him to report that I still had severe bleeding after being allowed to return home an hour or so after having had a cystoscopic bladder examination, to go up to Emerge and to phone him as soon as we arrived. She did, and he said "just tell the triage nurse that I'm expecting you and I will meet you in the examination area now." We told the triage nurse what he had said, and she said, "That makes absolutely no difference! There are at least 45 people waiting ahead of you, and you won't be going anywhere until every one of them goes in." So we waited “x” number of hours before we finally gained entrance to the examination area. I guess I would have to say that I'm not all that impressed with our new PRHC as far as its Emergency Room procedures are concerned.

Anyway, that's my rant for today. :-)

Have a great day.
Yous truly...
~ "Been There Done That" ~

~ Murray Lincoln ~

Sources…
http://winnipeg.ctv.ca/servlet/an/local/CTVNews/20080923/wpg_brian_sinclair_erdeath_092308/20080923/?hub=WinnipegHome

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20080924.whomeless0924/BNStory/National/home?cid=al_gam_mostview

Brian Sinclair, 45 – This Should Never Have Happened

The time seemed to drag by as we sat in emergency waiting for our turn to be next… for the wonderful moment when the nurse would come and get you. I was in pain and needed help – that’s why we came to this place entitled “Emergency”.

Lest you think that this just happened – it didn’t. I’m okay and haven’t had to go through this for over a year. But it is my example to begin this post.

In Peterborough Regional Health Centre, our hospital, the new Emergency has a special name. It is the “Dembrowski Emergency Access Department” – named in honour of a financial donor. From the outside it is amazing to see the large letters above the door. But at a second look you see “D.E.A.D”.

No where would that be a more appropriate naming than in Winnipeg.

Brian Sinclair was 45 years old and had lived in Winnipeg along time. No where in his wildest dreams would he have ever thought that he would be famous one day. If someone would have told him that the Premier of the Province of Manitoba would be speaking about him – he wouldn’t have believed it. Brian had been by the big building where the Golden Boy stands on top, where the government meets to make huge decisions about people like himself – but that world was so very far from his world. No one really cares about him over there!

Brian had been living “on the street” in a wheel chair. He had been in regular contact with Main Street Project Mission, where he likely was getting food and some shelter on bad days. His friends and some relatives were there as well. He was fairly well known in his small circle.

Brian had a problem that was very serious. Last March he had been in the hospital for the very same problem – but now it was back again and even worse this time. The problem was with his bladder. He had a catheter and with that came the problem of infection. But this time it was much worse. The pain had to be unbearable.

Even he knew it was serious when he had not been able to urinate for over 24 hours. So he caught a taxi to the Winnipeg Regional Health Centre – the WRHC. As he was unloaded from the cab into his wheel chair that was the last help that he would ever get.

34 hours later a Hospital Emergency worker finally forced themselves (or were forced to by a concerned fellow patient) to check this chronic complainer. Sinclair had been back many times to the Emergency Room – everyone knew that! And guess what he or she found? Manitoba's chief medical examiner describes it best…

“Dr. Thambirajah Balachandra said Brian Sinclair, 45, hadn't been able to urinate for 24 hours because of a blocked catheter and his bladder was full. He had been dead for hours and rigour mortis had set in when finally attended to.”

From all that I can discern from the articles posted about Brian, he was Aboriginal – a First Nation person that lived on the street. He was also a double amputee that had lost both his legs dew to frostbite while living on the streets of Winnipeg.

Sure he was well known at that Hospital. Sure he had been there before and he may well have snuck into the Emerge to sleep in a warm place. And with the loss of his legs, perhaps poor diet and lack of cleanliness that comes from sleeping on the street, always sitting in your own same clothing for long periods of time – you are not the best representative of the human race.

Now try this. With the catheter in place and then let go from the hospital – Brian is given instructions as to how “you can do this yourself – at home”. No problem – right? “Now Brian this is important that you clean the tubing and then insert this in carefully to be able to drain the urine out. If you have problems maybe someone where you live will help you. If you really are having problems a Home Care worker will assists you. You need to call to have that care come to your home. Make arrangements and be sure that you get on their list of care.”

Home for Brian was pretty much wherever the wheel chair rolled to… the awning up the street to cover him from the rain…to a warm air vent. Perhaps even the shelter would have a bed if he got there early enough. But they have rules that you cannot get in until 4 PM and it is first come first served. He was usually lucky enough to get food there – but beds were full – other than the mat on the floor.

BUT Murray – were you there to see all that happen? Nope. I watch it happen in our city. First come, First Served is everywhere in our community. If you snooze you lose. And if you are in a wheel chair you will not get to the front of the line of hurting people.

Now if you have ever undergone the catheterizing you will know that there is some discomfort. And if they tell you to go home and do it yourself – even after the top teacher in the world telling you how easy it is – your hands will shake as you penetrate your own body.

Nope. I have never done that (yet). But someone close to me had to and the results were infection. And this person was in a perfectly clean environment. Brian Sinclair wasn’t.

The sad part was the comment by the director of the Main Street Project Mission. His name is Brian Bechtel.
“The shelter will soon have a nurse on-site which was a recommendation that came out of an inquest several years ago. Mr. Sinclair's death may at least highlight the need to bring health care to the homeless directly rather than assuming they will seek help on their own”, Mr. Bechtel said.

Who cares? That’s the main reason that I write this story today – is to ask – WHO CARES?

God does. That is one comfort that I have when thinking of Brian. But my concern is for me and my family in MY COMMUNITY. And in our case with the Brand New PRHC with its new facility it is better than before.

But I still have a little concern with the name D.E.A.D being hooked up with the area that I am rushed into for emergency help. Then when I check out the PRHC’s web site and they clearly warn you that the FAST TRACK for Emergency help is open from 8 AM to 12 MIDNIGHT… there are 8 hours there that it isn’t really good to get sick…

Brian Sinclair, though you cannot hear or see what is going on right now – I remember you and will think of you often this week.

~ Murray Lincoln ~

Sources…
http://winnipeg.ctv.ca/servlet/an/local/CTVNews/20080923/wpg_brian_sinclair_erdeath_092308/20080923/?hub=WinnipegHome

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20080924.whomeless0924/BNStory/National/home?cid=al_gam_mostview

Faith in Faith vs Faith In God

Woodrow Kroll wrote…
“An old friend used to tell me, "You know, if you just have faith, that's all that matters."

It was one of the most misleading tidbits of spiritual advice anyone could ever dish out. Sadly, it's a false hope millions of people cling to.
Why is it false?

It is not true because faith has no meaning unless it rests upon something or someone. Faith requires an object. You cannot simply "believe." You must believe something. You cannot merely trust. You must trust some object, some philosophy, some fact, yourself or some other person.

It follows, then, that the "something" you believe or the "someone" you trust is of supreme importance. If you have faith in a fraud, a religion, material wealth or an untrustworthy person, you'll suffer the consequences of your badly placed faith. My friend was naively saying, "Just have faith in your faith." What a costly illusion!”

Watching…
In the last few weeks we have watched as the markets have tumbled and people’s life savings dropped like a stone tossed in the lake. From a substantial investment portfolio to zippo in a heart beat. They have little now but the last letter from their investment advisors. What they had poured a lifetime of energy into was evaporated in days and even hours.

People that had fairly large bank accounts with large sums of money wondered if they would get any out – if their bank buckled under the strain. They also wondered at how long the cash in the bank would get them through the next part of their life.

For one writer/commentator to speak about this as being similar to the 1929 Crash in the Markets – was frightening. I remember the black and white documentary films of men jumping from windows on Wall Street in New York. (Photo of Crowds outside NY Stock Exchange 1929)

One recent report of one very wealthy man losing $6.3 Million in one day’s drop is supposed to be real. There are likely hundreds of reports that were never given.

For the US Government to react the way that they have tells you more about what is going on than anything else. They are on the brink of some very nasty stuff.

President George Bush was grave looking in his sidewalk speech/announcements outside The Whitehouse. I felt for this man in this powerful position speaking without any power at all. I wondered how much he personally has lost financially – just before he exits his job.

Some of the articles that I have read put the costs of the War in Iraq at $2 Trillion in 2006. And they were spending over $200 Million per day since that time.

It has to be that our American neighbours to the south are in deep trouble.

Their faith has been in Military Might for one and the power of their dollar backed by the mighty investments that they have. Their faith has been in their Government and this is shown as the Government steps up to bail them out of the Financial Crisis now. For many they still maintain they "Just have faith in my faith."

As I read over the series of events that precipitated the Stock market Crash in October 1929 – it has so many likenesses to what is happening now(read link below).

In 1929, in Southern Saskatchewan, my grandfather and grandmother had a one year old baby and with her four older siblings. They worked hard and made a living. The tremendous impact of Wall Street would not affect them until a few years later when equipment and prices started to climb and grain that was produced was not selling – let alone not growing. The Dirty 30s would be their final blow.

My grandfather never had any stocks and bonds that I knew about. I imagine that he had listened closely to the radio on Wednesday, October 30, 1929 as reports came to everyone of people beginning to take their own lives. I imagine also that this is the reason that many of our family never invested in the stock market at all.

I came across an interesting story that demonstrates the faith in faith idea… or at least faith in self… His name was T. John McKee(Theophilus John McKee) – but was born Theophilus John Syphax. McKee was a White name. Syphax was a well known Black name. T. John did not want to live as a Black Man – so everything in his world became White – including his marrying a White woman and living completely in a White world.

He lived this way from April 1902 until 1948 – when he was “discovered” to be Black…or came out of his hiding as a White all those years. There was a lot of money involved – read it – you will love the story(link below).

As part of his White disguise he studied at a Theological college – “Trinity College” which leads to a Ministerial degree – a lot of God stuff. They must have talked of faith in his courses… yet he didn’t get it about God. Strange – very strange…

Pause here…
In this Blog today I have wondered from “Faith in Faith” – to the American Financial Crisis – to the Iraq War and it high costs - to T. John McKee…

All of it points to a lack of faith in one power. For me it is God. It was God that my Grandparents put their faith in so early in their lives. That being done it then affected us deeply as grandkids. That is likely why I have a bigger investment in Heaven’s Stocks than in Wall Street or Bay Street.

That is why I am poor here on Earth – but will be very well off in Heaven.

My question to you is – “What is your Faith placed in?” If it is anything other than God it could be shaken seriously some day – then what?

Why not make a Heaven Investment today – Try God!

~ Murray Lincoln ~

Sources…
Wall Street Crash of 1929
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wall_Street_Crash_of_1929
A Most Difficult Decision
http://onedroprule.org/about2286.html

The Grand Old Lady of the Church

Wenonah Muriel Barnes
August 6, 1917 – September 22, 2008

Grandma Barnes came into my life in 1987. I had arrived at Scarborough Gospel Temple and began serving as the Youth Pastor – 21 years ago.

I was much younger then – still able to keep up to the Youth of the Church. Grandma Barnes and Grandpa Barnes were much younger then too. She was 80 and he was a bit older.

There seemed to be a perpetual smile on her face and always had a willingness to greet you. She was a continual encouragement to everyone.

Early yesterday morning Great Grandma Barnes slipped away from us and into the presence of God. Her Harold was waiting for her. It was time. She was 101 years old and one month.

Flash Back One…
Grandma Barnes came into my life when her Grandson Bill started dating my daughter Anda. That was about 19 years ago – I have hard time remembering now – it seems that I have known both her Grandson Bill and Grandma Barnes forever. Bill would become my son-in-law. Then Grandma Barnes and I began sharing the eventually four wonderful Grandkids – for her it was her great grandkids.

Flash Back Two…
Her Harold was a joker. He would shock you by telling you that he was a “White N----r”! Yes it was the “N” Word designating a Black person in a negative way. He had been born in South Africa and was proud of his roots – but being born in Africa should make you black – he was white… well you get the idea I am sure.

One day at their house on Bobmar, Grandma Barnes was standing on the front step calling for Grandpa Barnes. As we drove into the driveway we caught the scene playing out in front of us. She was standing on the front step calling his name loudly, “Harold! Harold!” He was standing at the end of the driveway, around the corner of the house from her, grinning. We could see him, she couldn’t. The louder she called the more he grinned. When he saw our car pull into the driveway he motioned us to be quiet, don’t tell her where I am… by putting his fore finger to his lips and indicating “Shhhhhh…!”

Flash Back Three…
Grandma Barnes was then about 98 or 99 years old. She was attending a Funding Raising event for her church, Scarboro Gospel Temple. She was sitting near the entrance which allowed her access to see everyone coming through the door. Many of us had come back to support our church. For Grandma Barnes it was not so much to support the church as it was to see all her old friends from the church. However with most of her friends from the church having already passed away, she was looking for her younger friends – who came to hug her and give her their greetings.

As she sat there greeting people, extending her hand each time, it was as if she was the Queen holding Court – greeting her subjects as they came through the door. I waited with others to pass through the greeting area.

She saw my wife and me and grinned from ear to ear. We were beckoned closer. My wife shook her hand and then it was my turn. I looked at her pretending a shock and said with as much surprise that I could, “Don’t tell me you are still alive! I don’t believe it!”

People around us looked at me as if I was nuts. But their reaction was not the same as Grandma Barnes’. She was very quick. She said loudly, “Yes I am! And I am more alive than you are!”

Flash Back Four…
I think it was either Grandson Jonathan or Grandson Thomas that gave Great Grandma Barnes her other nickname… “Big Barnes”. The boys are full of life. When all four were over to her house they provided a form of entertainment for her that far surpassed the Gaither Videos or the Wheel of Fortune (or whatever her favorites were on TV).

Our daughter Anda would often stop to see how Great Grandma was doing. Or at other times be there for family events.

Great Grandma wanted to play with the boys. She would reach out with her cane when they ran by and would try to catch them. They would run and laugh as Great Grandma did her stuff. One time one of the boys decided he had enough, I think it was Thomas. He snuck up on her with a knitted quilt that had been lying on the couch beside her. He then threw the quilt over her head and ran away. His reasoning was easy to understand… “If she can’t see me – she can’t catch me!” Everyone laughed, even Great Grandma.

Another time when the one grandson was running by her chair she managed to reach out and grab his shirt. He was not going to be stopped and pulled even harder…like any great football player would trying to break the tackle. He continued and she hung on. The next thing that happened was he was free and she and her lazy boy chair were lying on their sides. Great Grandma was spilled unceremoniously out of the floor in front of laughing Great Grandsons.

Flash Back Five…
“Precious Promises” were one of her favorites. You may remember them – in a small box were rows of small card with scripture verse and thoughts printed on both sides. It was used as a small reminder that God was faithful.

Now consider this scene. When we sat to eat together, everyone pulled in close to the table. The Great Grandsons were hungry, mischievous, giggling, poking and whatever young boys do. After we ate, Great Grandma Barnes would insist on having each one of us pull a small card from her Precious Promise box – then read it. Keeping young kids at the table was not always possible.

This was her very old tradition of Family Devotion. Everyone should participate.

This family devotion had kept her through all these years. When her son-in-law Bill was killed in the airplane accident, her pregnant daughter Lois came to live them. When young Billy arrived he grew up knowing the Precious Promises at each meal. He was hungry, mischievous, giggling, poking and whatever his young boys do now. But he sat and listened… probably driven crazy by “Big Barnes” – like his sons were.

Whatever family crisis, family joy or family anything happened – there were Precious Promises that kept them all these years.

Today Great Grandma Barnes no longer struggles with memory issues or with the discomfort that she had these last months. I see her, in my mind, skipping and leaping with her Harold. Now she is living the Precious Promises that have kept her for over 101 years.

On Saturday afternoon, we are gathering to say our good byes to a Grand Old Lady of the Church. I have no doubt that the stories told will deeply move us all – as we describe “Barnesy”, Great Grandma, Grandma and Mom.

And Grandma Barnes… I agree with you when you said… “Yes I am! And I am more alive than you are!”

~ Murray Lincoln ~