Would You Believe This?

Auntie Joan, missionary of 38 years, and I (a pastor-preacher type of none of your busness how many years!) are going tomorrow night to watch the Flames play game seven against the National Hockey League Mighty Ducks of Anaheim. Those readers of this blog who do not live in this tight little corner of Alberta may have been in need of parts of the above explanation.

I admit to having a friend unwise enough to email me "Go Flyers!" Good Brother, but silly fan!! When Philly Coach Hitchcock gets fired, you will have heard it here first.

Now as to the tickets for tomorrow night's game--I had them in my sweaty palms but for a few minutes, before they were snatched away by the keepers of the family rules--good old Dad can'tbe allowed to even look after these precious tickets overnite!! But I had them long enough to see the price tag of $225.00 on each one of them. And I am told, on ebay, they could bring a thousand each!! Silly, silly world.

Son Tim has been in the papers too--as the compassionate, well-dressed lawyer, charitably inclined, who is representing the 12-year-old girl for a minimal fee. She is charged with killing her parents, and there he was in the paper looking for all the world like me--(except for that silly whatsit in his ear!). Pardon me while I brag a bit--he is a few pounds heavier!!

Now all of this is happening with Mother Marilynne celebrating her 66th! Getting cards from all over, except from me, the ever devoted husband who has neglected that little item so far.

Will the Flames win tomorrow night? Not sure. I know they should. They probably will. But if not the world will not end, even for Mikka and Iggy.

Time to say that the spiffy seats are certainly nice--the seats will be appreciated and the game will come and go. The final whistle will sound. It's nice to know there are some things more enduring and worthy. Like knowing who God is and welcoming Him into your life for the really serious matters which duly, eventually, finally have to be considered--like the tomorrows of eternity.

A Bloogy Mess

The headline is intended to say "bloody," but I don't quite have the guts to make that word part of the title. Nevertheless I do mean "bloody!"

It happened this way. Last night we were on the way home from son's place where we had watched the Flames on his big screen. (They won, of course! Yeh, Flames!) I entered our house about 11:30 pm, but neglected to turn on the lights. I did, however, dog-silly man that I am, reach down in the darkness to let Bijou out of his kennel, where, due to his age--need I explain further?--he now resides when we are away.

The screen door of the kennel popped open, and I reached for the dog. So far, so good. However, attempting to get to the exit, I tripped over the screened door of the kennel and plunged headfirst into the semi-darkness. (Marilynne was still in the garage.) My elbow landed on the marble-tiled floor. As I picked myself up, and noticed immediately that there was blood seaping through my jacket. And my ribs were seriously strained if not torn. (Enough so as to bother my sleeping last night). However, I was still not finished! With the fnal spill, all these spills in a nano-second, as I was falling headlong, I banged my forehead on a door jam! With that, more blood spattered. About that time, Marilynne opened the door just in time to witness the final smash!

I finally managed, with her help, to get up. I looked in the mirror. My face looked like a Calgary Flames fighter after a melee! I now have the second dressing on my forehead--tenderly applied by my wife--and look forward to a Board meeting at the church in about an hour from now. I'm fine--really I am.

The whole episode reminds me of a time I was playing hockey at 11 pm on a Saturday night in Chilliwack years ago. (I was the assistant pastor). A stick on my temple spilled a lot of blood--I had five preaching assignments the next day!

Oh well--that was then, and this is now. All is well, but "all" would be better if I was not such a dog fanatic--and so enamored of great hockey! (Yeh, Flames!) And yes, I'm fine--the biggest lingering problem may be the ribs!

Iran's President Playing With Fire

The new president of Iran, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, has been making various pronouncements about Israel since he came into office. Israelis should all go back to Europe. Israel should be wiped off the map. The holocaust never happened. These statements coming from a head of state are troubling enough. But adding Iran's nuclear ambitions, pronouncements and threats makes for a Middle East situation that is increasingly explosive.

Iran's new intent to fund Hamas, the democratically elected and recently installed revolutionary government of the Palestinians complicates the situation even more.

But why is Iran's president playing with fire? Because there is another factor involved in the Jewish future. That is the Bible. There is a troubling Scripture with which to contend if one is filled with hatred toward the Jews.

It is this one: "I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse." This is called the Abrahamic Covenant, pretty well illustrated by history. Hitler set himself on a self-destructive course against the Jewish people even as Haman of old did in the book of Esther. The results have been self-evident.

Cursing the Jews or even the Arabs as children of Abraham is not the smartest thing in all the
world to do. Especially since both descend from Abraham.

Back After A While--Coyotes in Arizona

It's a while since I have been blogging--but the good thing about stopping blogging is that all my loyal readers complain and press me to get going again. I have determined not to be a slave to any blog--hence the absence.

Then I forgot the user name and the password so I had to get Cheryl to tell me all over again what they were. Then I spied the very same blog info in my phone book--duh!!!!!

But I am determined to get to the coyote! Still, I must mention in passing is that Jeff and Veronique are moving soon into a different house! That will probably be another blog--but as to that coyote, well it was this way.

While in California, we headed off to see Jim Sellers (the singer of Nakamun camp fame) and his new wife. We have been longtime friends and knew his first wife Mary Jane very well. She has been gone for a while, so now Jim is remarried to Millie. Well, after spending the night with the Sellers, we wakened for a lovely breakfast--looking out into their Arizona Room which just happened to be nicely screened. As nature ordered it, there were a couple of rabbits out there running hither and thither as rabbits do.

Suddenly, the fox, er, coyote appeared. It was totally intent on the rabbit smells still wafting through the garden of sand, gravel, cactus and fruit trees. Soooo, it didn't pick up the human smell at all, though we, all four of us, were watching the coyote intently all the time.

All this happened in the heart of the suburbs of Phoenix--so now I know why their hockey team is called the Coyotes! And, yep, the rabbits got away.

Explaining Bijou's Bounce

Followers of this blog know that I presently alternate from politics to Bijou to hockey to Stephen Harper and President Putin. Well, here goes another dogscapade--how's that for coining a new word to go along with bounsing? My bounsing dog is off to Pet and Brew to be lovingly kennel-kept till March 22 and we are heading to California this morning for some sun and hot springs!

Now the bounsing. My investigation led me to reread again my little piece on "praying for pets" in Plain Prayers and Small Miracles section of the web page (www.kneillfoster.com). There I was reminded of a signal event in Bijou's life. He had been handed over to the vet for an operation and he nearly died. But after his somewhat remarkable healing, he became a somewhat rejuvenated dog.

Better yet, if you recall my dog prose, he started bounsing. I now conclude that his bounsing began when he recovered through prayer. I invite all readers of this blog to come by after March 22 and see for themselves. This fifteen-year-old dog is an incurable bounce!

And if you want to see your dog bounce too--here's the plan--let him/her get sick, get operated upon, and then get well through prayer. Inevitably, in my view, you will have a bounsing dog. They love life after having nearly lost it! This could even apply to the odd human.

Gretzky's Fatal Flaw in Hockey Choices

Team Canada's ignominious exit from the Olympics at Turin, Italy have caused a lot of hand-wringing and a lot of blame-assigning. Here I go with my share. There were some spiritual issues in the whole hockey mess.

For example, Todd Bertuzzi has barely gotten his job back for the Vancouver Canucks after being out of action for over a year. Steve Moore, the victim of his now infamous on-ice mayhem still doesn't know if he will make it back to the National Hockey League.

Now hockey may be religion for some, but it is not a religion and is not supposed to be.

But there are some spiritual overtones. Gretzky and pals did not listen to all the writers and fans who wanted younger players. No listening to those who wanted Staal and Crosby.

And especially, no listening to those who pointed out the obvious flaws in Todd Bertuzzi who is still trying to rehabilitate himself in the game. Who, it is said, besides being an innately threatening hulk, and unreconstructed really, has a tendency toward dumb penalties.

Well, Todd Bertuzzi's dumb penalty in the Olympic knockout game opened the door for kid whiz Alexander Ovechkin's goal and spelled the end of Canada's Olympic hopes.

Not listening about hockey doesn't mean much, but not listening to God, and His servants in things that really matter can be forever flawed. Gretzky may be loyal to his old friends to to a fault, and the buildup of his grandmother's death, his mother's passing, the alleged gambling of Rick Tocchet and his wife's supposed betting all add up to terrible pressure.

I doubt that Team Canada's misfortune can be attributed to stress. But it surely points to not listening!

Fear of the Muslims--A Remedy

In recent days, all over the world there have been demonstrations against the Danish cartoons about the Prophet Mohammed. Curiously, the cartoons were published last September and the fuss is now. Secondly, several cartoonists did the caricatures, not just one.

Violence worldwide has resulted in demonstrations and death. The other day as I was walking my laps around the gym, I wondered who was getting killed in all of this violence. The answer I found later in a headline of the Calgary Sun. It shrilled: "Christians Murdered." Shopkeepers in Nigeria were the unfortunate victims in that newspaper account. But a lot of other headlines could have been written.

There may have been many other hapless victims other than the Christians--but probably many of the victims really have been Christians. What is new about all this is that the news media in general, with some exceptions, like a couple of magazines in Calgary, Alberta, have been afraid to publish the cartoons.

The fear has been leveraged into North America and the West. Freedom of the press and freedom of speech have been supplanted by fear--Threats have been made against the cartoonists and large sums of money have been offered for the revenge killing of the offending artists.

The electronic media of the global village makes it certain that every threat is amplified. And fear multiplies once again. Decapitation and throat slitting are the usual methods urged, megaphoning the fear yet once more. All this in the name of deity and religion.

Thankfully, fear does not come from God, not at all. "God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." This is the beautiful promise in a scary world.