A PAINFUL, BUT NECESSARY, LESSON.

Have you ever had a friend tell you something that hurt yet was also meant for your own good? We all like to think of ourselves as being as good or somewhat better than others. To the same extent, we hate receiving a "talking to" from self-important busybodies. What we need in many cases is gentle-but-firm counsel from caring individuals when we go astray.

When I was on a short term missions trip in 1977, a church friend exposed one of my character flaws in a way that was gentle yet firm. It stung at the time but I recognize in hindsight how immature I had been when I desperately sought my group's approval. From my How I Was Razed memoir, here's how this Christian handled what could have been a nasty confrontation in a loving and Christ-like way.

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During my time in Mexico, I learned a painful, but necessary, lesson. Being an ardent Goon Show fan, I often tried to make my fellow missionary trainees laugh with absurd statements and word plays. When awkward silences inevitably followed my witticisms, I assumed they merely misunderstood.

"Let's go for a walk, Bruce," Jay invited after the Sunday Service and lunch. "We have some free time this afternoon and a walk would do the both of us good." Jay shepherded me through the bustling streets, telling me when it was safe to cross. After ten minutes, we arrived at a park next to a plaza. We sat on a polished wooden bench shaded by trees and chatted for a few minutes. Then he came to the point.

"I need to talk to you seriously about something. You've probably noticed that nobody laughs when you tell a joke. There's a good reason for that. I hope you won't be angry with us when I tell you this but you've been acting childish."

His accusation stung. I hung my head and said, "I was only trying to be funny."

"I know. Unfortunately, you've been trying so hard that it ends up annoying everybody."

I sat and pondered what he said. Though I hated to admit it, I desperately craved the acceptance of the group. If I had only acted naturally, it would have helped relations between those three and myself. From then on, I resisted the urge to impress people.

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How I Was Razed is the testimony of the way I was mislead by a cult church, how I turned my back on God after I felt he perennially failed to heal my eyes, and how he graciously brought me to my senses.

My previous books, When a Man Loves a Rabbit (Learning and Living With Bunnies) and Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School), are now available online by clicking here or by clicking here to e-mail me directly.

A SUPERSTITIOUS FAITH.

The word 'superstition' conjures up images of primitive religions and irrational practices. Even in our modern culture, people carry rabbit's feet, pick four-leaf clovers, throw coins in wishing wells, and snap wish bones in order to hopefully obtain what they desire.

Charismatic Christian sects have their own form of superstitions. One of these is the expelling of demons attached to possessions. During the seventies and eighties, I attended a cultic church that was an offshoot of Pentecostalism. When one of the members and I went on a short term missions trip to Saltillo, Mexico in 1977, he rebuked me for buying an object that depicted pagan sacrifice. From my upcoming How I Was Razed memoir, here is one example of Thee Church's illogical and unscriptural doctrines.

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One of the shops we visited sold china and leather goods. While walking the isles, I noticed a small loaf-sized chocolate-coloured case with a handle at one end. I picked it up and examined it. Inside, it had a small rectangular mirror sewn into the lid with a leather strap next to it. I assumed the latter was for holding tooth brushes or combs. The case also had a grey plastic pocket attached inside it and a brown zipper ran around three sides of the lid. It seemed like the perfect container for my toiletries so I bought it. At the counter, I noticed a rack of post cards. I chose about a half dozen and paid for them as well as the case.

Jay confronted me when we stepped outside the shop. "Do you realize what that case of yours has on it?" When I looked blank, he continued. "That's a Mayan priest offering corn to the sun god."

"I didn't notice that. Do I have to throw this away? I need it for my tooth brush and other things."

"I suppose if you prayed for God to take away any demonic influences from it, that would be all right. Just don't show it to any of the other Christians. They might misunderstand." Having been misjudged too many times in my life, I kept it in my trunk. Before I put the case away, I rebuked any demons which may have attached themselves to it and banished them to the abyss.

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How I Was Razed is the testimony of the way I was mislead by a cult church, how I turned my back on God after I felt he perennially failed to heal my eyes, and how he graciously brought me to my senses.

My previous books, When a Man Loves a Rabbit (Learning and Living With Bunnies) and Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School), are now available online by clicking here or by clicking here to e-mail me directly.

A NON-LINGUAL COMEDY OF ERRORS.

The following vignette sounds like a sitcom or scene from a movie. Four "gringos" on the way to a short-term missions assignment in Mexico try to order a meal at a restaurant without knowing either the language or the cuisine. In my upcoming How I Was Razed memoir, I recount this humorous scenario and its outcome.

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Our unfamiliarity with the language caused some humorously awkward moments when we stopped at a modern-looking local restaurant for supper. None of us knew Spanish and we struggled to make sense of the menus. After much pointing and smiling from each of us, the waiter took our orders and retreated hastily to the kitchen. As we waited for our food, we overheard the waiter and cook agitatedly whispering.

"I wonder what they're saying, one of the Bible study friends said.

"I hope they aren't thinking we're gangsters with that big car outside," Jay said. Then he added, "I parked it in clear view of the window. Make sure you keep watching it, Bruce, in case somebody tries to steal it."

I tried my best to keep an eye on it as we waited, the food arrived, and while we ate. Timidly tasting my food, I discovered it contained none of those super hot peppers of which people had warned me. "That was better than I thought," I remarked to Jay as we stood up and walked to the cashier's counter.

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How I Was Razed is the testimony of the way I was mislead by a cult church, how I turned my back on God after I felt he perennially failed to heal my eyes, and how he graciously brought me to my senses.

My previous books, When a Man Loves a Rabbit (Learning and Living With Bunnies) and Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School), are now available online by clicking here or by clicking here to e-mail me directly.

WHY BUY TOYS WHEN YOU CAN MAKE THEM?

When I was five years old, my dad made a remarkable little wind-up toy for me from odds and ends. I learned while doing research for an article that this gadget is called a spool tank. As environmentally-conscious people want to reuse and recycle materials, I provide these assembly instructions.

You will need the following materials to build the spool tank:

1 taper candle
1 empty thread spool
1 wooden match stick
1 tooth pick
1 elastic (about the same length as the thread spool)
scotch or masking tape

You will need the following tools:

1 knife
1 nail or awl

1. Push the elastic through the centre hole of the thread spool. if the rubber band is too long, fold it double and then push it through.

2. Cut the match stick in half.

3. Place the piece without the match head through the loop of the elastic at one end of the spool and tape it securely.

4. Cut off about a half inch piece from the bottom of the candle.

5. Take the nail or awl and carefully drill a hole in the centre of the slice of candle.

6. Stretch the elastic, at the other end of the spool, and pass it through the hole in the candle wax piece.

7. Slide the tooth pick through the loop of the elastic so that the pick is most of the way through. The rubber band should hold the pick and candle wax snugly against the spool but without being too tight.

Wind the tooth pick, either clockwise or anti-clockwise, until the tension feels sufficiently tight. Overwinding could break the elastic. Place the spool toy on a flat surface and watch it go. Some people carve notches in the rims of the spool to give it traction on carpet and other uneven surfaces.

In my Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School) memoir, I relate my experiences when I was sent five hundred miles from home for months at a stretch. Click here to read more about this story of my poignant and hilarious experiences.

AN UNFORGETTABLE SUPPER IN LAREDO.

In many ways, America is a remarkable nation. The chief reason being that its constitution limits government's powers while respecting the individual. Because of this, it has been called the land of opportunity by many people. Its history abounds with stories of immigrants making their fortunes after arriving with next to nothing.

This greatness, which has allowed the nation to become the world's major super power, has also created an ingrained attitude of national haughtiness in its citizens. As a result, Americans are generally ignorant of their next door neighbour and best trading partner: Canada.

While on the way to a short term missions assignment to the Mexican city of Saltillo in December of 1977, my three friends and I had a disturbing encounter with a certain restaurant manager. From my upcoming How I Was Razed memoir, here is what happened.

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After forty-eight hours on the road, we checked into a motel in Laredo and then ate a late supper at an upscale hotel's restaurant. As we finished our meal, Jay said, "I'll pay for this. It's my treat." As we stood waiting by the till, he pulled a Canadian twenty from his wallet and handed it to the cashier.

She gawked at the bill and asked, "What sort of money is this? I'm not sure we can take foreign currency." While Jay explained that it was legal Canadian tender, a heavy-set middle-aged man, wearing a white dress shirt and black pants,brushed past and almost bowled me over.

"What's going on here?" he glared at Jay. "What's this thing supposed to be, a traveller's cheque? What are you trying to pull anyway?"

"This is a Canadian twenty dollar bill. It's legal tender," he said in a calm voice.

"I don't believe you. Don't you have some real money or traveller's cheques?"

"I was hoping to pay for my friends' dinners with this Canadian twenty."

"Oh yeah? You either pay with American money or traveller's cheques. Otherwise, I'll call the cops."

Jay turned to us and said, "I guess you'll have to pay your own bills. I'm really sorry about this." Reluctantly, we produced our cheques and signed them.

Once we stepped outside, Jay confided, "I was tempted to sign the bill and walk out." We burst out laughing at the mental picture of this naive American restaurant manager at a bank, trying to cash in what he assumed was a traveller's cheque.
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How I Was Razed is the testimony of the way I was mislead by a cult church, how I turned my back on God after I felt he perennially failed to heal my eyes, and how he graciously brought me to my senses.

My previous books, When a Man Loves a Rabbit (Learning and Living With Bunnies) and Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School), are now available online by clicking here or by clicking here to e-mail me directly.

ANTICIPATING A SURE THING.

Pastor Steve Wells, of South Main Baptist Church in Houston, Texas, made a very good point in his third Advent Sunday sermon. Because we Christians know what happened in Bethlehem two-thousand years ago, we can anticipate the joyous celebration of Christ's birth each December. Added to that, children await the end of classes and the prospect of presents. Most adults likewise contemplate having a few days off work and being with loved ones.

My inmates and I had a special reason for being excited in December of 1964. Having been sent hundreds of miles from home to Jericho Hill School for the Deaf and Blind, we rejoiced that the seemingly interminable term neared its end. Here from my Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School) memoir is a vignette that expresses our yearning to escape that impersonal institution.

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My dorm mates and I eagerly counted down the days until we would leave for home. Over breakfast one Friday, we excitedly discussed what we would do once the holidays came.

"Did you guys know it's exactly a week until Christmas?" one of the boys at my table asked. My heart leapt for joy. I could easily comprehend that length of time. Better yet, we would be going home in only a few short days.

Classes became fun as the holidays neared. Regular lessons were set aside as we decorated the room with paper chains and snowflakes. The very air was charged with excitement.

Mrs. Rose organized a class Christmas party one afternoon in the junior girl's Play Room. Santa Claus was scheduled to make an appearance. One of the boys warned me not to say it was only Mr. Brice, our irascible principal, since it would ruin it for the younger children.

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Deliverance from Jericho contains many more vignettes of what life was like in that government-run institution. These range from poignant experiences of homesickness to hilarious incidents of mischief. Click here to read more about this book and to order it. You may also e-mail me directly if the comment form doesn't work.

HEAVY SNOW PANICKED LOWER MAINLAND RESIDENTS.

Canada has a reputation around the world of being a cold land. In most of the country, winter starts in late October and ends in April. Heavy snowfall is a common occurrence, particularly in the eastern provinces.

Only on the west coast is snow a rarity. Many Canadian seniors retire to cities such as Victoria and Vancouver so they can escape the bitter cold. The climate of this region resembles that of the United Kingdom, being that the autumn and winter months are usually rainy.

In my Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School) memoir, I recounted my first experience with the unusual snowfall that Vancouver received in December of 1964. Being eight years old, the white stuff that troubled adults was merely one of many natural wonders that God provided for my entertainment.

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Vancouver received plenty of snow that month. Because I was accustomed to several feet of it back home, this unseasonable weather seemed totally natural. The "Day Kids," those fortunate local students who went home each evening, and the grownups were very alarmed about the roads.

The snowfall did provide me one sublime experience. One morning, I came across a snow-covered part of the drainage ditch by the school. A strange roaring and gurgling noise came from it. I excitedly showed it to one of my friends. Instead of leaving it be, he stomped on it and ruined whatever made the sound. I felt as crushed as the snow bridge he destroyed. I vainly tried to reconstruct it but the stream kept washing the snow away.

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Deliverance from Jericho contains many more vignettes of what life was like in that government-run institution. These range from poignant experiences of homesickness to hilarious incidents of mischief. Click here to read more about this book and to order it. You may also e-mail me directly if the comment form doesn't work.

HAY DUST SETS OFF SMOKE DETECTOR.

Technology is wonderful when it works. Smoke alarms have saved countless lives and prevented massive fires. Many of these devices are monitored by security companies, giving property owners added protection while being away from home or work.

With every technological benefit, there's a down side. I was reminded of this fact in 2001 when my monitored security alarm kept sending false signals from the smoke detector. In my When a Man Loves a Rabbit (Learning and Living With Bunnies) memoir, I explained how I solved this problem.

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I learned something surprising in December about my hay supply. The dust coming from it was setting off my monitored smoke detector. After about the fourth or fifth false alarm and a visit by a technician, I decided to move my bunny's food. Back in 1999, I had purchased a plastic cooler. Since it was only being used for storage, I decided a cardboard box could hold the junk just as well. I emptied the cooler and put the hay inside of it. Then I put my new hay container in the bathroom, making sure to place water bottles beside it, so that Gideon wouldn't try to squeeze between it and the wall.

There were no more false alarms caused by hay dust after that. Plus, the alfalfa stayed fresher in the container.

Once again, Gideon was mystified by the changes I'd made. He sniffed around the laundry room and searched for the missing ironing board with its coveted stash of hay. The poor lad even thumped at the strangeness of it all.

I sympathized with him, remembering how annoyed I had become when my mother rearranged and tidied up my things?particularly when I was a teenager.

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When a Man Loves a Rabbit contains many more charming stories of life with house bunnies. These range from the tragic to the hilarious. Click here to read more about this book and to order it. You may also e-mail me directly if the comment form doesn't work.

CHURCHES EMBARRASS THE BLIND.

Well-meaning though they may be, churches generally aren't geared to the needs of blind worshippers. The hymn book lyrics are either printed in small type or projected onto a screen. Houses of worship rarely have braille Bibles or hymnals available. Though Redwater Alliance Church provided me copies of the hymns in large print, most visually-impaired congregants are left to memorize the choruses and sacred songs or suffer the embarrassment of not being able to sing.

In my upcoming How I Was Razed memoir, I wrote the following about my ongoing worship problem.

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Before the ceremony, Sister R lead a short worship service. Unable to read the hymn book Sister E proffered, I hung my head in shame as everybody else sang "Shall We Gather At The River." This perennial humiliation haunted me throughout my life. I would visit a church, the singing would start, and somebody would hold out an open hymn book which I couldn't possibly read without a strong magnifier. Even when I had one, having to press my nose almost to the paper made singing awkward.

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How I Was Razed is the testimony of the way I was mislead by a cult church, how I turned my back on God after I felt he perennially failed to heal my eyes, and how he graciously brought me to my senses.

My previous books, When a Man Loves a Rabbit (Learning and Living With Bunnies) and Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School), are now available online by clicking here or by clicking here to e-mail me directly.