Burden

“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.” These are Jesus’ words in Matthew’s Gospel. And often I need that reminder.

We all feel burdened from time to time but sometimes I admit that I play the “martyr”. Why me? Poor me! How can this be happening? What else can possibly go wrong? It’s during these times of self-pity that I forget God’s promise of love. I become so self-absorbed that I can only focus on my needs – my pain – my heartache. And my burden only becomes greater because I fail to remember that I am never truly alone.

During those darkest times – when I am feeling alone and unloved and that I am carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders I try to recall the words of a hymn that Deb shared with me the first year that we were married:

God has not promised skies always blue,

Flower-strewn pathways all our lives through;

God has not promised sun without rain,

Joy without sorrow, peace without pain.

But God has promised strength for the day,

Rest for the labor, light for the way;

Grace for the trials, help from above,

Unfailing sympathy, undying love.

Burdens. We all must bear them from time to time. Some are heavier than others. Some can be life-changing. And some might seem insurmountable. But nothing is stronger or more powerful than God’s love. The beauty of my life is that God delivers his love to me daily – through the shared hymn given to me by my beautiful wife; by the sweet kisses of my granddaughters or the giggle of my grandson; by the loving words of my children; by the comfort and concern of my siblings; by the countless kindnesses bestowed upon me by friends. Many times they have dried my tears; shared my struggles; helped me find my way.

"Nana, why are you crying?"

The other evening Deb was reading a bedtime story to our granddaughters – “That’s What Grandmothers Are For”. Now she has been known to cry watching a Hallmark® commercial so the fact that this book’s tender message brought tears to her eyes was no surprise to me. The girls however were both concerned because Nana was crying. Instinctively our younger granddaughter Anna grabbed a tissue and wiped her eyes. The pure compassion of that gesture then brought me to tears. What an amazing example our children have set for their own children!

Being Christ to one another is the ultimate expression of God’s love. Thanks to each of you for the times that you have carried my burden. I hope that you will allow me the honor of carrying yours, too.

Aretha Franklin sang about it in 1969. Still sounds good today…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=reeE8mbh0zA

Peace,

Denis

Praying With Men

On Saturday my son-in-law Travis and I went to a ‘Men’s Day of Recollection’. This has become an annual event for our parish and it is held at a local Catholic high school nearby. I don’t know who named it ‘Day of Recollection’. It could just as easily be called ‘Day of Renovation or Reconstruction or Restoration’ but that’s beside the point. Each year the format is basically the same although the themes vary – but not greatly. This year was not much different from the other years that I’ve attended with one exception – I prayed. Now I know that probably sounds strange but it’s not that strange for me. I have attended many workshops and retreats and not prayed – NOT REALLY PRAYED anyway. I guess I’ve just been sort of programmed to pay polite attention to the presenter and participate in the discussions and attend the obligatory Mass and sing the hymns. And that’s what I usually do – just barely do.

You see I can’t remember when I haven’t been angry at my Church (at the institutional Church). And in fact part of the presentation on Saturday was about how all mainline churches are losing members in droves and how the Catholic Church is no exception – and I thought; well no duh! As the talk continued, we were somehow supposed to take comfort (or shame – not sure here) about the fact we are not alone. The Presbyterians, and The Lutherans, and The Baptists, and The Episcopalians are all in the same boat with us Catholics. I’m not sure if ‘the why’ was explained but I think it has something to do with our secular world not wanting to FOLLOW THE RULES. And that includes our acceptance of abortion, gay marriage, female clergy, and bargaining rights for public-sector employees. (Just kidding about that last one – although I have a feeling some men in attendance were thinking it). Anyway that’s about when I started to fade out. Whenever someone starts throwing around the word ‘secular’ I feel as though I’m blushing because I believe ‘secular’ might be code for ‘Denis Wilhelm and his kind’. After all, I voted for Barack Obama and my favorite nuns are the ones that don’t wear habits.

So while I was (sort of) zoned out. I started praying. I prayed for our pastor (who was our presenter). I prayed for the other men attending the retreat. I prayed for Travis, whose love motivated me to be there in the first place. But mostly I prayed for myself – for patience; for understanding; for guidance. I prayed my granddaughter Anna’s guardian angel prayer: “Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God’s love commits me here; ever this day be at my side; to light, to guard, to rule, to guide. ~ Amen”

It’s funny that a child’s prayer would bring me great comfort at that moment. I realized (once again) that I AM A CATHOLIC – warts and all. I understood more clearly that all of us men who were gathered there on Saturday brought our strengths and weaknesses to God. Some of us were just searching for a way to live in peace. Some of us were mired in the need for ‘black and white’ answers in a world where all the questions are shades of gray. Some of us were holding on to hurt and pain for years or decades that we can’t (or won’t) let go. And some, like me, were carrying all of those things.

And in the strength of those seventy-odd men I was reminded that if God can continue to forgive me for my failings – I can continue to seek the Truth. I will commit myself to living my faith. And I will (try to) follow the rules. But I will also never stop questioning, challenging, hoping for a better world, a better church, a better community.

I know that we are perfected in Christ. For some of us it just takes a little longer. Now if I could just be as patient with myself as God is with me…

Maybe it should be called ‘Men’s Day of Recalibration’.

Peace,

Denis

‘Gnomeo and Juliet’ and What I’ve Given Up For Lent

Last Saturday I took my two granddaughters to see “Gnomeo and Juliet” an animated re-telling of the Shakespeare classic (Shakespeare’s lead was named Romeo, but you get the idea). Anyway it’s a cute movie about star-crossed lovers that are actually garden gnomes featuring Elton John music. I enjoyed it as much as the girls plus there was a bit of a morality tale included – which is never a bad idea, especially in a kid’s movie.

What does this have to do with Lenten sacrifice? Let me explain. At the end of the movie Anna (the almost three-year old) asked, “Pawpaw, can we clap now?” My response, “Of course we can!” So the three of us sat there, while watching the closing credits, clapping and cheering. I must admit that we received some stares and some looks of bemusement by our fellow theater goers but I didn’t care because my girls were so delighted.

And there you have it. I’ve decided to ‘give up’ public decorum for Lent. If I feel like clapping and cheering for a movie that my granddaughters LOVED – I will. I am ‘giving up’ my social embarrassment or my need for conformity. Now some of you, that know me, are probably wondering when exactly have I ever held back or been worried about peer pressure or social norms? But the truth is that too often I have let courtesy or political correctness dictate my actions. I have sacrificed compassion for good manners. I have failed to offer or accept forgiveness because of embarrassment or awkwardness. And I have denied Christ publicly by not always behaving in a Christian manner.

But I have some great examples of how to live my faith life. My son-in-law Travis ALWAYS says grace before meals – even in restaurants – even in fast food joints! He has made me feel comfortable with doing likewise. When we begin by making the ‘Sign of the Cross’ sometimes heads turn but it reminds me how grateful I am to have such a faith-filled son-in-law who is setting an amazing example for my grandkids. My co-workers Kim, Rosemary, Sherry, and Michael ALWAYS bring Christ into our workplace. Their quiet example of love and devotion to God is model for all Christians. And I am honored to be in their presence. My wife, Deb is ALWAYS showing me how to live a Christ-like life. She will drop whatever she’s doing to help a friend or a stranger. She will hold your hand and cry with you or share a belly-laugh; if that’s what you need. And she’s never afraid to show public outrage at injustice or public displays of affection regardless of who may be watching. She loves completely – I wish that I had her compassion.

So this Lenten season I will be pushing myself out of my comfort zone. I will pray in public and try to love more openly and praise God in my word and in my deed. I may even hug some people (so beware).

And of course Anna, “We can clap now!”

Peace,

Denis

Rock Solid

“These are uncertain times we live in.” I’ve been hearing that a lot lately – the economy, the unrest in the Middle East and Libya and Egypt, the crazy governor of Wisconsin, exorbitant healthcare costs, unemployment, the housing crisis, the general moral decline of our society, etc., etc., etc.

And those things are all real and they do create uncertainty and anxiety. But are “the times we live in” any less certain than any other time in mankind’s history? I doubt it. I believe that because we are human and subjected to life (with all its good and bad) we will always feel some uncertainty. Perhaps if we don’t dwell on all the bad stuff maybe life will be a little easier to live. And I suppose it might be true that (a little) ignorance is (a little) bliss(ful). This reminds me of a joke:

There are 3 kinds of people – those that make things happen; those that watch things happen; and those that say, “What happened?”

I must admit that sometimes I fall squarely into that 3rd category. It’s not that I live my life with blinders on but there are times when I feel absolutely overwhelmed by the injustice in our world. There are those days when I feel so powerless to the suffering and heartache many in our society face that I want to bury my head in the sand. I don’t want to face the truth.

Recently in Madrid, at the Metro Station near my hotel, each day I encountered a woman begging. I just turned and walked away. I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eyes. I think that I was afraid that if I looked at her (really looked) that I might feel some compassion and give her money. What was my fear? Was she truly powerless and in great need or a scammer looking for a quick buck? I’ll never know because I walked away. And even if I had given her a few Euros I still wouldn’t have known. That’s what troubles me now – why did I need to know? Jesus doesn’t ask us to judge; he asks us to give. And sadly, in Spain, I chose to run away out of fear or ignorance!

But I have hope. I know that bad things will happen and that life will have its share of difficulties and disappointments but my trust is in Jesus. I believe that even through the crappy stuff He won’t abandon me. And even with my selfishness and lack of compassion He has offered forgiveness to me. It’s now my job to accept His forgiveness and promise to do better the next time. So I can either ignore my anxiety and fear or I can embrace it and “hand it over to God”.

Because even in these “uncertain times we live in” – Jesus is the ultimate certainty.

“Everyone who listens to these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock.
The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and buffeted the house. But it did not collapse; it had been set solidly on rock.”
Mt 7:24-25

Peace,

Denis

Unconditional Love

If you’ve ever wondered what unconditional love feels like just get yourself a grandchild or two. I speak from experience. I know that my wife loves me and I know that my kids love me, too. But my grandkids love me UNCONDITIONALLY. Let me explain. I’m their Pawpaw and that alone is all they need from me. I don’t feed or clothe them. I’m not responsible for their education or their upbringing. I’m just the lucky guy that gets to love them and be loved back – threefold!

And based on my grandkids, I’m pretty good at this grandparent thing. I just show up and little faces break into big smiles; giggles ensue; and happiness abounds. I know what you’re thinking, these kids are just loving and they love everyone but that’s not the way I see it.

Here are some examples:

Recently at church, six-year-old Charlise, held on to me for nearly the entire Mass. She acts at times like she’s too big to hold but that morning she needed to be held and squeezed my neck tight and when I picked her she whispered in my ear, “I love you, Pawpaw”. She then laid her head on my shoulder and it was bliss.

Two-year-old Anna told her mother a couple of weeks ago, “I love you Mommy; but usually I’m Pawpaw’s girl”. And of course she is. You can ask her! This week she asked Mommy if she could call Pawpaw to see how he’s doing in Spain? Did I mention that she’s two?

Noah doesn’t talk yet but when he smiles at me it lights up the room. And yes, he smiles a lot at other people too but it’s different with me – you’d have to be there.

I know that those of you who are grandparents have experienced this same unconditional love. I’m not unique or special (well maybe special) and all grandkids love their grandparents just because…

I think the way that grandchildren love their grandparents is how God loves each of us. God is not waiting for you to do something for Him. God is not expecting anything in return. Much like a grandchild that is thrilled to see you, God must be thrilled when we take time for Him, too. Of course God doesn’t need us, just like our grandkids, but being wanted is so much better because we aren’t really needed. If I died tonight I know that my grandkids would be raised and loved by their parents – they don’t require me. But how wonderful to be wanted; to be loved; just because…

What a lucky man I am to know God’s unconditional love through the example my grandchildren have given me. And for the record; Anna is Pawpaw’s girl and so is Charlise and Noah is my boy. Just like God’s love for me; my love for my grandchildren is limitless and eternal.

Peace,

Denis

Follow That Star

 When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea,
in the days of King Herod,
behold, Magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying,
“Where is the newborn king of the Jews?
We saw his star at its rising
and have come to do him homage.” Matthew 2:1-2

I love this gospel story of the Epiphany. I imagine the Magi (The Wise Men) following the star and journeying through vast deserts on camelback to a distant land in search of a newborn king. And discovering their hearts’ desire in the most unexpected of places.

It has occurred to me recently that my “understanding” of the Magi hasn’t really changed much since I was a child. I’ve always pictured them as mystical and exotic; richly robed kings or emirs driven by an ‘unearthly desire’ to find Jesus. Did they know he was born in poverty? Did they know that he would change the world? Why were they driven to find him? And upon finding him in such humble surroundings why did they prostrate themselves as if he were a king?  And why the gifts?  Why gold, frankincense, and myrrh?   

Legend and tradition tell us more:  The Three Kings (three gifts were presented but the Gospel never tells us the number of Magi) were named Caspar (or Gaspar), Melchior, and Balthasar. Early Christian art depicts the three men as coming from Europe, Asia, and Africa. And growing up my nativity set at home would show them likewise. Tradition also tells us the significance of the gifts – gold: a gift fit for a king; frankincense: which is burned during prayer; myrrh: which is a perfume most often associated with burial – a foreshadowing of Jesus’s death and suffering. Another tradition (brought to the U.S. by European immigrants) involves writing the initials of the three kings’ names above the main door of the home to confer blessings on the occupants for the New Year. For example, 20 + C + M + B + 11.

Okay so Debbie's a "Queen" and we're missing one of The Wise Guys, but you get the idea...

I still find some comfort in the imagined Wise Men of my childhood – these three; certain of their mission; moving toward the Star without question; and knowing when they found the Christ-child that He was THE ONE. 

But how do I relate to this ideal in my own life?  Where is my certainty? Where is my mission? Where is my star?

I think of how I sometimes miss the obvious – and maybe my star is burning brightly and I just can’t (or won’t) see it. Perhaps my mission is to continue to question; to journey; to “look to the east”.  Maybe I need to find my certainty in my own heart and soul.  God has truly blessed me – what wonder do I seek to be assured of His love? It’s likely (for me) that I need to look right here; right now.

There’s a message from the Magi for me today – they were immigrants. How do I accept strangers into my life; my home; my country?  Jesus was born in the most humble of circumstances. How do I treat those who are living in poverty; in despair? Maybe it’s time for me to prostrate myself before them. Isn’t that the message of Jesus? Isn’t that what the Magi were following?

This image of the Magi isn’t as “warm and fuzzy” as those cute little figures I remember under my tree as a kid. But perhaps my challenge is to follow a New Star. Now that’s a ‘New Year’s Resolution’ with some teeth – your prayers will help.

Peace,

Denis

P.S. Attached is a link to “A Child of the Poor”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mEkdr62eVMY&feature=related

Prayer (and other questionable activities)

If you’re like me (hopefully you’re not) then you probably wonder sometimes if prayer makes any difference. There are those days when I feel as though my prayers are just empty words (thoughts) and then there are those days when I can’t even get myself to pray – why bother? The problems of the world just seem too overwhelming and my simple requests for peace; for justice; for equality; seem silly and selfish. Who am I to think (believe?) that God has time to listen to me? And what about those days when I’m not sure God exists? That can’t help my cause(s) –  if I’ve just questioned God’s existence only to follow-up with “okay if you do exist; here’s my list of stuff that needs to be your number one priority”.  What’s a struggling believer to do? 

For me – it’s more prayer.  Because I don’t know what else to do. That’s not exactly inspiring is it? And that’s probably because so often I don’t feel particularly inspired. But I pray. And if God does exist then She must have incredible patience. Lately I like to think of God as Maya Angelou or Sister Fidesta (my high school math teacher) – tough but gentle women with hearts of gold. The kind of God that won’t be shocked by my actions (or inactions) and who will take the time to listen (really listen) before showing me the error of my ways.

As I get older I find that I do remember to thank God for all my blessings but still my prayer life seems to be dominated by petitions – “take care of my wife; my kids; grandkids; friends in needs; the sick; the suffering; the dying; etc”.  Then there are the (sort of) secondary prayers – “please help me with work; with our finances; with my diet and exercise”.  Finally, my prayers often fall into the truly mundane or incredibly ridiculous – “please let the Packers make it to the playoffs or please let my favorite pair of jeans be clean” – God must really love those!

But I believe that God has a sense of humor (which would explain why men have nipples).  And God likely laughs at some of my crazy ramblings but still knows my heart and gives me what I truly need.  So I keep praying (and questioning) and hoping that my prayers make a difference. Often I do find that my prayers are answered; just not the way I wanted them to be. God knows best. That’s sometimes a tough thing to remember. And I guess that’s something else to pray for – understanding.

My prayer today is that each of you have a wonderful new year and remember to thank God (or at least your lucky stars) for your blessings.

Peace,

Denis

This song speaks to me…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uPNv5bv0t40

O Come O Come Emmanuel

 Nothing is as simple and profound as a God that loves us unconditionally.   In the midst of the modern Christmas frenzy Advent is a perfect time to remind ourselves of that awesome wonder.

Tomorrow Advent begins. And once again we prepare for the coming of Christ. Today I unpacked the Advent wreath and Deb bought new candles. For the next four Sundays we will light our candles and carry on our tradition of “keeping Advent”. This is that special time of year when we reflect on Jesus’ coming in history and His coming in our lives today and also His final coming. 

For the next four Sundays our Gospel readings will contain the messages of Advent – take care; be aware; prepare. And while we’re busy about “getting ready” for Christmas – the shopping, the parties, the gift giving, we’re being reminded to S L O W  down. We’re being reminded to “get ready” for something much more important than the latest toy or electronic gadget; something much more important than our favorite family recipe; something much more important than our parties or holiday celebrations.  We are preparing ourselves to meet (once again) our Savior who is ALWAYS with us and who will NEVER forsake us.

This evening we went to our parish to view “Scenes of The Nativity” – parishioners put their personal creches on display for all to enjoy.  Some of the Nativity sets are old, some are handmade, some very elegant, some disarmingly simple. All represent the Holy Family at the time of Jesus’ birth.  At the end of the exhibit is an opportunity to create a living Nativity – with costumes and ourselves playing the parts of angels, shepherds, wise men and of course Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus. 

This year my daughter was Mary; my son-in-law Joseph; and Noah was baby Jesus (he was a natural!).  Anna and her cousin Charlise were angels (adorable) and the rest of us were Wise Men – well Debbie was a Wise Woman I suppose. It was fun and the angels and baby Jesus were especially sweet – a nice family time.

Holy Family

Later while the girls were playing in the “Children’s Area” replete with Fisher-Price Nativity sets and arts-and-crafts tables I held Noah (Baby Jesus).  While holding in my arms he smiled at me and I couldn’t help but think about Jesus as a baby and how much Mary and Joseph must have loved him. 

At times it is amazing to me that God presented Himself to us an infant!  Not as a warrior or super hero or a King.  But an infant – helpless, completely dependent, and completely human.  And while I held Noah it all made perfect sense to me.  Someday when I’m much older and Noah is a grown man he will bring me comfort and help ease me into my final days.  The love that we share will transform us – as I grow old and weak; he will grow big and strong. Tonight I prayed that we will always be connected even as we inevitably change.  And if I’m truly blessed he will remember me fondly after I’m gone from this life and he will always know how much I loved him. 

Imagine then how much more God will love and care for each of us.  God who gave us His only Son that we might live.  God who changes us so that we might change the world. O come O come Emmanuel!

Jesus said to his disciples: “As it was in the days of Noah, so it will be at the coming of the Son of Man.  Matthew 24:37

Peace,

Denis

Big Sisters ~ Little Brothers

There’s a special relationship between big sisters and little brothers.  It seems that big sisters tend to “mother” their little brothers and little brothers often seek their big sister’s approval.  But it’s much more than that.  There’s a special love that they share that’s on a psychic or spiritual level.  I’ve been fortunate enough to have witnessed this dynamic between  big sister/little brother many times in my life.  God has blessed our family three-fold: my wife Deb and her “little brother” Brett; our daughter Bess and her “little brother” Blake; and now our granddaughter Anna and her “little brother” Noah.

This sister/brother love is life-long.  It is pure.  And it is unconditional.  What a gift God has bestowed on these sisters and brothers! 

I firmly believe that Debbie is such a good mother because she learned ‘how-to’ on Brett.  She was (and still is) in many ways his second mother.  I’ve seen how she can comfort him and I’ve witnessed her heartbreak when he has dealt with dissapointment or sadness in his life.  She celebrates his joys and supports him in all he does.  SHE IS HIS ROCK.  And I know too that Brett loves and cares for Deb equally and that they share a bond that is eternal. 

From the time that our son Blake was born, his “big sister” Bess has been his guardian angel.  She has protected him and cared for him from the start.  Their love is something that only they can truly know.  The rest of us can observe from the outside, but they seem to communicate on a level that is all their own.  Even though they are ‘grown-ups’ now, Bess still worries about her “little brother” and Blake still seems to need her approval (or maybe it’s her affirmation) from time to time.  When he was a little boy, she would comfort him if he was upset.  And often she was the ONLY ONE that he wanted when sad or hurt.  Blake was a freshman and Bess was a senior at the University of Wisconsin when Blake broke his jaw (there are some sketchy details on what actually caused the break).  Bess flew to his side, helping him when Deb and I couldn’t be there.  Of course, she wouldn’t have considered anything else.  And Blake has been ‘ON CALL’ when his niece and nephew were born – he needed constant updates as to how Bess was doing.  This “caring for one another” seems to be the cement that holds them together.

I see already how two-year-old Anna loves her “little brother”.  The night that he was born, while he was being “cleaned up” in the hospital nursery, Anna and her Daddy, and I watched outside the nursery window (Mommy was ‘being put back together’).  While we were witnessing Noah’s first few minutes of life, an old man that was a patient at the hospital was wheeled up to look at the babies.  He asked Anna if that was her baby brother and of course she said yes.  He then asked her if she thought he could get a baby brother, too.  Her reply: “Yes but not this one – he’s mine!”  In those first few moments, looking through the glass, she had claimed her “little brother”.  And as tears welled up in my eyes I could only imagine how special their life together will be.  Another big sister/little brother legacy was born.  And once more I was blessed for having witnessed it.

Peace,

Denis

A Glimpse of Heaven

This has been whirl-wind week.  My grandson Noah was born on Monday and everything else just sort of fell in place behind that momentous event.  It’s amazing how one blessing can diminish all the crappy stuff in your life.  I’ve had my usual encounter with annoying and hateful people this week but somehow I have become invincible.  Their snide remarks and unloving behavior have had no effect on me.  Because of the love that God has shown me in Noah and his sister and his parents, NO ONE not even the curmudgeonliest interloper has stolen my joy.  I’m not even sure if curmudgeonlist is a word.  But guess what?  I don’t care!  I have a force-field of love shielding me from all the ugliness and hate in the world.  Take that – haters!

Noah "sizing up" his Daddy

I’ve had a glimpse of heaven this week.  And I’m hanging on to it as long as I can.  I don’t want to become someone who never faces reality (although it’s tempting) but for a while I plan on basking in the “afterglow” of Noah’s arrival here on earth.  Having him in our family has helped put a lot of little things in perspective – and some big things, too. 

Somehow bad drivers, annoying co-workers, demanding customers, and trying family members don’t seem to be worth getting upset about.  The annoying co-workers?  Well Anna was in my office on Tuesday winning hearts and cheering the place up in two-year-old fashion.  She told EVERYONE about her baby brother!  The gas station attendant that was smoking near the gas pumps on Wednesday was frightening but not important enough to fight about.  I just calmly asked her to put her cigarette out – so that we didn’t BOTH blow up.  I have too much to live for!  The customer that WANTS EVERYTHING IMMEDIATELY – is going to have to wait awhile.  I’ve got a baby to hold!  The trying family members – well I hope that Noah will melt their hearts, too.  After all, he’s got super powers!

And this week even simple kindnesses seemed to appear more loving, more caring, and more God-like.  It felt like people have smiled more, were more courteous, and were generally happier.  I believe the “joy of Noah” has had a rippling effect.  The best examples of God’s enduring love are these:  

  • After Noah’s first night home, big sister Anna awoke on Thursday morning to find him in bed with Mommy and Daddy.  Of course she crawled into their bed to join them.  When finally snuggled next to her baby brother, she patted him gently and said, It alright Noah, I here, I got you now.”
  • Last night while saying bedtime prayers, which now include Noah by name, Anna stopped and announced, “My whole family is here!”   And we were blessed once again for having been there.

So I’ve had my glimpse of heaven this week with my grandson in my arms and my granddaughter playing nearby.  And I’ve got to tell you – it’s a wonderful world!

Peace,

Denis

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RAZqjsSZphE&feature=related