Forty Plus Miles

Two hundred thousand, miles of life and living, roads of twenty-four travelled, one might call these days, I call them reminders, God's faithfulness on display. Here on the intersections where I reflect, replay memories of all kinds, I am grateful for two hundred thousand "miles", or forty something years, where I'm still travelling life's "roads", no matter whether good of bad. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support!

Dimly is the star shining, a shine that isn't lost. No agenda or scheme to issue with it's shine, i t simply shines. Watching and pondering the dimly lit star, finding encouragement in it's reason for being: to simply shine, and in this is bliss, a bliss that isn't without gratitude. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support!  

         Chapter one, rising, taking a journey through darkness, one that can discourage anyone; but I am not anyone. Sentence one, I push a little at a time toward my goal. Sentence two, day two reveals me making good progress, day three is the same. The weight is felt and soon a "paragraph" arrives. I see and hear no one, all is felt, this is my "vision"...and the start of a new paragraph.           Sentence two, paragraph two and I am getting closer to my goal (though it feels so far). There's warmth that is growing and felt in sentence three and four; soon I will be there and it will be amazing! I rise, and rise, reaching for the heat as the sentences become another paragraph. What felt hopeless is no longer as the darkness gives way (for I can feel it).             A surface is broken as the warmth is felt fully (and with it glorious Light)! This is the end, the end and the beginning, where Chapter One...

        The sound was surprising, one not heard for fifty years, heard only by older generations within the family. It surprised all that heard it, and this once commonplace sound was suddenly welcomed. Memories of generations and gatherings came flooding their minds, filling everyone with joy and hope.          The years kept them from each other and their regular times spent together were no more…..until now. The time spent together refreshed the worn family now spanning generations and far reaching distances. This old once familiar sound made it all complete as both old and new ears heard it and smiled (the new generations hearing it for the first time). All listened intently, stopped what they were doing, and went to the place of the ringing bell. It was a beautiful reuniting of the once scattered family joining to celebrate long life, one of their loved family member reaching one hundred and six. Conversations were had, ...

The music plays, souls dance 'round in response, dance with joy, as the sun goes down. The old and the young, male and female they celebrate life, in the darkness and dim light, in good and bad times known, still they live, still they dance, as the sun goes down. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support!

         "This will be heavy, but it will be done. ", he thought to himself. One act of discipline, a little bit at a time; then a little more. Higher and higher with each attempt until the thing was lifted to his chest for an extended period of time before it was brought to the ground. This was the test. This was the journey. This was the hard thing he had to do: work out in spite of his injury. Over and over a little at a time he would do this one rep until it was able to be done completely. One then two. Two then three and he would stop. Holding each one for half a minute and then pausing. The pain grew with each rep, the pain in his heart and the pain in his body, seeking to stop him, to hold him, still he continued, persisted in spite of the limitations. It wasn't a lot of weight, though it was enough to be a challenge, continuing regardless, knowing that he needed this even if it was only ten to fifteen pounds at a time.          I...

       One hundred trees, rare trees, ones that held rare properties. Beautiful, unique, and the only ones of their kind, they were sought after by all. Seen, then not, this strange phenomenon was one many wondered about, and often looked to experience.         Life of all varieties gathered there, visited these marvels, and delighted when the experience to see one disappear and then reappear was witnessed by them. Lasting for many years, through generations of the world they lived in, they stood as reminders of miracles. They were enjoyed by all, and coveted by some......until one fateful day.          Where these one hundred wonders of creation once stood, now only stumps remain; stumps and rumble. Here a place of prosperity and mystery existed. A place where wonder was commonplace. "What happened here?", one might wonder as they looked upon the ruins where a once thriving kingdom existed there. Where one hundred trees ...

 Fires on Friday, fought forward fiercely. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support!

Smiling faces. Family addition. New pet. Note about the piece: The famous writer Ernest Hemingway was offered a challenge: someone bet him he couldn't write a complete 6-Word Fiction Story. He not only won the bet, but tried to write several others. This is my attempt at the same thing. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support!  

            It was stormy. It was cloudy. Rain and wind were all too obvious. Dangers were told. In the trouble and chaos we gathered. Amid a sea of people from various backgrounds we gathered. We gathered for safety, seeking protection from harm. In that brick building (with brick floors even) we gathered. Radios were going off, weather alerts were heard, and humanity was stirring. In that place, in the middle of a very real possibility of danger we met there. Leaving our wheeled homes and seeking refuge (well, most of us did).             To the world around us most never knew, and we might have been little else than pennies to the outside world as hazardous weather moved into our area. We were protected and different people mingled with each other. Some would watch near the doors while listening to weather reports, others stayed as long as needed and shared their responses to it all usually. I couldn't tell you word for word...

Light calls out the once hidden, speaks of the stories to be told, of art in the everyday. No abstract only amazing, past pastels and subtle nuances, telling of the timeless, of masterpieces in what is mistakenly thought mundane, of art in the everyday. Head down and focused, creation that speaks in it's action, whether repairs made or something new, it's all new, all amazing through a life lived out well, of art in the everyday. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support!

           Call it a calm before the storm, an uneasiness even when it's quiet, too quiet. Thick was the tension in the air in that place and none were certain why. Whatever it's origins it would be made clear soon enough.            In the peaceful place a fierce and surprising danger stared, locking eyes on it's targets, and hunting the once calm in a desperate act for a common need: the persistent struggling for food. The serene home suddenly erupted into violence and chaos in the fight to survive, to protect, and to overcome! A strike here, a block there, and the priority was set and made clear: protect the children at all costs. Back and forth for what felt as years danger and the protector fought their ruthless one on one engagement when everything shifted in the fight to live.           Without warning the serpent threat was lifted into the air! Up and up and each attack against the feathered p...

Four days, forwards.  Four words, moving forwards; doubled. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support!

It's about a tree, looking at it's branches, seeing the years telling stories silently to me. It's about legacy, where I'll reach out "branches" too, speak stories through this better life lived. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support!

Wagging tail, eager student, therapy dog. Note about the piece: The famous writer Ernest Hemingway was offered a challenge: someone bet him he couldn't write a complete 6-Word Fiction Story. He not only won the bet, but tried to write several others. This is my attempt at the same thing. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support!  

            "I am the second Mrs. Roberts.", she said, as everyone present stood silent and unaware of how to respond. They didn't say anything as the whole event was turned upside down. The once peaceful moments now suddenly a living nightmare. Crying and fits of rage were on full display in the startling revelation of these precious emotions revealed for all to see. "I am the second Mrs. Roberts!", declared the voice of the little broken heart of this five year old girl at the wedding, the loss of her mom and this new mom stepping in was simply too much for her to process.                 Others tried to step up and calm her storm of emotions failing miserably in the process. She refused to be comforted and the chaos continued for nearly a half hour until one beautiful moment. Suddenly a bear was offered her to hold and cry into, the little stuffed bear from the woman her daddy was marrying. At first she refused it...

         Happy is some three-legged joy we all could know, our soul when Hope is calling us out of obscurity and into a greater good we've been waiting for. Happy is the new direction we find, and with it needed change we long for but wonder when and how as we struggle to simply be patient. Happy is the beautiful new that comes as we all enter into that place of grace, our excitement something we simply can't contain.            Happy is the dog, some older three-legged dog I witnessed today, one that has such joy at her owner's attention and kind hearted involvement that even I can appreciate. Seeing how Hope calls us to a beautiful good at just the right time to bring us into something truly amazing that keeps us from that which is not safe, healthy or even Godly; even if it may seem like forever.            Thank You for that promise lived out Jesus, I'm grateful for that three-legged dog named Happ...

Shouting excitedly. Over heights. Riding rollercoasters. Note about the piece: The famous writer Ernest Hemingway was offered a challenge: someone bet him he couldn't write a complete 6-Word Fiction Story. He not only won the bet, but tried to write several others. This is my attempt at the same thing. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support! 

 Standing. Walking. Fallen. Injured. Healing Again. Note about the piece: The famous writer Ernest Hemingway was offered a challenge: someone bet him he couldn't write a complete 6-Word Fiction Story. He not only won the bet, but tried to write several others. This is my attempt at the same thing. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support! 

          They gather around the table, all of them. They gather at the table, sitting down one by one. A long sought after goal, they finally saw what was hoped for lived out before their eyes, in real time. The once broken now made whole and complete, gathering these pieces of people and a family together again. It would have never been recognized before that this was the very same table that was once little else than pieces, but it was. The old scuff marks now gone. The fractures and misshapen parts now corrected and fit together masterfully. The loss was still felt, and the absence still very much real, yet in this unity over a project completed, they were there: their lost loved one that had once started building this table.              As everything unfolded, and food was served life and healing began once more. Conversations and connections were known over the once fractured and previously undone now seen completed; bea...

       "Start small.", emerged the words in my mind, dimly lit, the same way an old neon sign might be. This seemingly random instruction suddenly appearing to me...until I begin to consider what this tired mind of mine was thinking about: what to write, how to make some sort of impact in the world around me, a healthy and positive one.         I reflect on this for a moment, examine my intentions, realizing I was anxious and overwhelmed (at writing of all things!) . So I act, jotting down these words. Writing through the stress. Writing through the inadequacy. Pushing past the demon of fear called overwhelming, and I start small. One word, then two as sentences turn into paragraphs, growing into beautiful progress, into beautiful change that shines bright, stands tall and strong. Sentences and paragraphs begin speaking on the page, confidence emerges from a once blank environment, a once barren and scattered heart and mind. In this increasing pro...

          A few words was all it would take. A few words to change it all. A few words to grow. A few words to become healthy, better. A few words, each day.           So I wrote. Me. Someone who has never written anything. Hated English...and ANY literature class really. Me. Someone who had no training, wasn't gifted with words, punctuation or anything like that. Me. Some fast food worker. Middle class person. Another guy trying to do better, so I wrote a few words each day.           Soon it grew to more than a few. Worlds opened up. Possibilities expanded. I completed my story, sent it to many publishers, and now I have a book deal (as they call it). Me. One who was once illiterate. Now I am a writer. I am better. All from a few words. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may...

         “More than this.”, I’d tell myself, the glaring setbacks that almost crushed us beneath. One than two as transportation was taken, as plans failed. “More than setbacks and failing.” , I kept repeating in my mind, remembering the one vehicle we must use that is borrowed. Perseverance would call me and I’d let it go to voicemail. Dreams where this was better led me back to sleep again. “More than these bad times of misfortune. “, I’d fight to remember, needing more than a little motivation and hope today. “This too shall pass.”, speaks to me as a light enters my soul, healing me again. A note about the piece: when both of our main vehicle's were suddenly inoperable, and every plan for that day came to a screeching halt, the events and words written here came to me, "More than this ". I believe they were a blessing that day that shifted everything (though it was still a BRUTAL day for sure).  Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a go...

 Creativity is..... a new perspective and a solution, a new way to do something...and doing it. Creativity is.... seeing something you didn't see before, putting into action the fresh approach,  seeing how things were made better, releasing a joy we're meant to live in. Creativity is..... more than the arts, than some "gift" inherited in a family line, but a skill that can be improved upon... even when it's finding a new way to wash dishes  more efficiently while meeting the challenges of a  day head on. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support!  Note about the piece: this started out as a poem, and turned into an essay of sorts also. When writing blurs the lines of different genres like this it's referred to as a "Hybr...

            I was scared. Scared of what I would write. How I would write. I questioned myself, “Would it work? Would it be any good?” . The self-conscious took stance and I followed. Back and forth for a time we wrestled. “Just give up!”, growled the trash talking voice of this villian I knew too well: pessimistic me. “Stop! It will never work! Walk away!” my adversary screamed in the vicious wrestling match of me versus me; each word was a move to overthrow healthy and productive. My dignity thrown to failure’s floor, then my self-worth. Back and forth in violent actions we warred against each other, two sides of me; the better half had to win.        Then it all changed. The battle shifted as desperation became perseverance and a way was made. Fear became the way, and this became my victory. So, I used it: fear. I used it to overcome. I used it to empower, and empower me it did! The powerless became the powerful as each ...

     A few words gathered together, one by one making complete pictures; small actions to a bigger result. The little gathered together making complete pictures, giving new perspectives, and a growing confidence with it.      Just a step at a time and the miles grow. Paragraphs are seen, sentences gather together and make complete pictures, adding depth, calling extraordinary forth from something so small: two letters that become words, turn to sentences, and build to the beautiful result of paragraphs to tell a story. Here the story begins to unfold, the life is heard, and the little effort is seen for it's worth. The seemingly insignificant small beginnings become a wonder to all in the telling of many things. All of this started from a few small actions, a few letters that refused to be deemed unimportant or unimpressive, arriving to offer a great mystery revealed from a few small words that changed it all; a revelation and truth that stretches far beyon...

            The world is waking up, and normally (though not always) I’ve already been up, seeking to make the most of precious little margin I have. I’m often in the dark when I first rise from slumber’s hold, striking out to create something in the dark, this adventure I embark upon.              Everything is quiet as our child sleeps nearby in one room while my wife sleeps in another. In the little room not far away, light scatters darkness and I begin once more toward the quiet start.           I set to tasks before the journey, remembering duty before the long walk toward hope and a new way. One responsibility enters this path of minutes then leaves, the exchange between undone and done happening in the short time. Little by little the various to-dos are here then gone where unfinished is now complete and I begin the adventure toward creating new.             ...

          I walk in shadows, far below in dark valleys. Darkness swallows some, but I am not some, only a soul that knows conviction of a calling upon my life, beckoning me to brave these dangerous roads not everyone can. Mountains wall me in on every side but one: forward; the way I willingly take. I carry on, knowing danger lies ahead, preparing myself for the peril I'll face. Fear tries to stop me, seeks to invade my soul with each step, turn my courage to nothing and reduce me to a weakness I am tempted to listen to; still a great mission spurs me onward with each sight of despair I witness. Fatigue grips me and I am brought low, for the journey is long and the equipment I carry weighs me down….yet I adjust my pace and steady the burdened will of me for the task ahead. Humanity tries to restrain me. "Don't do it. You're beyond exhausted. You're only a person. ", but I refuse to be held back by these warring voices within, defying the rebellion of disbelief...

Through the flawed we look, straining our eyes past the "dirt" of circumstance, searching for good through dirty windows. Washing our vision clean, applying the good "soap" to our memories, to our corrupted emotions, a deep cleansing purifying the whole being, and through rememberance, through reflection, we are made right, made new, made better, from the dirty windows of our vision, the ones that once held us back, that now no longer does. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support! 

During the day I'll rise, greet light's return enthusiastically, embrace the hope of something new. During the night I'll not forget, remember grace that isn't gone, good that still remains, even when it's invisible, for hidden isn't gone, just unseen. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support! 

Keep walking forward, no matter how difficult, keep going forward. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support! 

          I struggle to write these words, wondering what I would say, wondering HOW I would say them, or even IF I should. It's been a dismal day after a good amount of rain and thunderstorms, and the day has left me fatigued and pensive.            I've been reflecting on a lot, and this one specific topic especially: being an older parent. After reviewing a recent piece I submitted on here briefing touching on some challenges my family and I have had over the years and our perspectives to them (see the "To" post), I looked it over again and wanted to highlight this topic a bit more.              My wife and I had a hard time in the beginning conceiving children and weren't able to have kids until we were both in our mid to late 30s. Our son was LITERALLY an answer to prayer. No one tells you though what it's like to be an older parent; so I will.              ...

To be present here, Opening up to what's in front of me, Doing the work to strive toward engaging, Acknowledging what's a blessing now, Yet remembering why it's a blessing to appreciate it more.  Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support! 

            It would be a minute, but it would be enough. Fear would keep this high achiever from climbing the mountain before him, fear and perfection, all or nothing. It was little beginnings that would change it all. A few minutes on one thing then it would be achieved: a goal long waiting to be completed, a tired soul longing for some sort of forward motion; this wheelchair bound one refusing to be held back by it. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support! 

           They were seen and reflected upon, where oceans of emotions flooded me; vast and present oceans. Emotions rising then falling, waves washing upon shores of memories. Waves I wasn't prepared for. Visible reminders within such a simple thing in such an unlikely place: these shells in a child's room.              From pain to purpose I felt the mixing waves of two contrasting currents becoming one, making something new and encouraging. I felt the loss yet the return of a mom here, of a grandma watching over our son through these physical objects now speaking and healing. Such a beautiful legacy of my mom in something as seemingly ordinary as shells present in these keepsakes found; in shells she'd likely have collected when she was alive. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), pleas...

Birds are singing, in their native tongue, singing in the falling rain, falling sadness, falling without fail, and still there's joy, celebration in the hardship, in another day given, to live, to be, to thank God, for the beauty of life known, shown, heard in their songs of worship, ones birds are singing; help me God to sing it too. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support! 

        Crawling, slowly but still crawling. Barely seen he still was (at least by me anyway). Doing what I could I steered the vehicle to one side to avoid him. At the life-threatening danger he was seen taking shelter inside himself. I'd probably have done the same if I were him, a turtle.          He seemed to be halfway across danger, across simply a roadway to the rest of humanity. Looking back through a rearview mirror, he seemed to keep going.          Perseverance is funny that way I guess. We see hope of a great goal, of something or someone worth facing dangers that could end us, and yet we persist. Halfway across the expanse of absolutely terrifying we still make way across. We may get scared when our lives and safety are threatened, retreat back into our "shells" called safe to us and still hope grows to perseverance as we "crawl" across the big scary way before us.           I c...

To empty and decompress, to simply de-stress. Running,  gunning through a constant day, a nonstop wild Wednesday. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support! 

Middle, little, time to process, looking forward for progress. Middle, little, taking time to make time and adjust, it's a must. Busy, really.really.busy,  still the focus is forward,  the way is ahead,  here somewhere in the middle,  with little steps forward, toward grace and abundance in the seas of busy. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support! 

         It was heavy, large and heavy, squarely planted on the back of the man. The full weight was overwhelming at times, yet still even here forward motion was made. First it was only steps, then it became the pulling and pushing of ascension little by little. The heights ever loomed overhead and before him as a constant reminder of the difficulty of such a feat; especially with the weight he bore upon his back.           "Don't try it. Just stop now. It will never be achieved. ", an accusing voice kept speaking to and over this worn and weary one, still he kept climbing the mountains before him. The landscape would shift and grow larger with each bit of altitude as he climbed, making the scaling of these "giants " before him more difficult still, yet he continued climbing. He kept reaching up and forward. Placing his steps as firmly as possible in the footholds of the mountains face he was wrestling with.        ...

         I look over the landscape of moments, moments captured in time. Places that seem much too exhausted now to even begin to tell of all that's happened there; still I wonder. I wonder about this old town that simply refuses to quit (in spite of whether it wants to or not). I feel the exhaustion in the buildings, in the landmarks present, and I dare begin to question this place. "What must they have been like? What activity and life has happened there over the years?", curious and questioning the drab and dull little town I'm passing through. I look upon the aged buildings and street signs the same way a child with a new toy may, though not to play but learn. I would drive down the old road through town, the worn and ever so lumpy little uneven road. I reflect on the mural of a Bible verse and old picture painted on the side of some building time seems to have forgotten, all while flashes of memories in past visits through begin to arrive and leave just as ...

         The blade was sharp and this grew in importance, grew when it's edge was felt quickly in a brief encounter of tasks taken care of, a stark reminder to me of intentionality in the quickened pace being travelled.            Quickly through this chore in the day now in full swing and the wound almost took hold, the literal and internal of unnecessarily hurried, one I almost missed while running through blindly and forgetting myself.             The pressure almost sliced my worn soul (and my hand) as the sharp knife was cleaned in a rush. There I was, taking in the moment amid acceleration at breakneck speed through a day, understanding with greater clarity where the shift demanded increased attention; where the new way was then made and I was better through it, and life was sharp in this revolutionary way. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in somew...

           The dead are dancing upon the walls, trapped in their old clothes, caged in fading paint that once held celebration. Music was playing and their voices remained ready to sing, yet only silence was their song.           The lifeless danced upon the old walls of the old city where these muriels of people were forever trapped in a timeless season of celebration. Here the pale-skinned dancers moved to and fro, forever in frozen festivities through songs ceased in a past that's long gone.               Among the tired buildings they play forever it seems, they dance forever it appears, they sing their silent songs on some side wall somewhere in this town of tales spanning over a hundred years. Looked upon with an active curiosity, questions begin to arise for any inquisitive enough to dare ask them. “Who painted these? Where did the inspiration come...

         To rise and see clearly. To be creative and transformative. Calling and I listen to chapters in the broken, paragraphs in the pain with each setback becoming a setup, sitting and writing amongst the blessings of inspiration and poor choices that now blend together somehow and bid me tell our story.           To the first house we've sought to live in, (where we currently live), that we've made the most of; with years of it's many new discoveries of "renovated" this and "updated" that. To the reality it wasn't seen by younger us until it was too late, who are now in it, walking through sorrows sting. To the family we became and the aged parents who now pray and consider what to do with their place and their next steps in being a family while following Jesus. Remembering how there have been good memories and good times in spite of the hard roads travelled through bad decisions.            To the chan...

        Waves. Large and looming before me. Fear seizing me fully, and all I can do is hold on. The unexpected. Wild seasons of life that rise up, and I wonder if they’ll destroy me. I wonder how to overcome, seize these untamed waters of life to get the best outcome. I wasn’t meant to control it all though, only engage fully. To try to grasp the waves approaching is waste at best, for they were never meant to be contained, only to remind I’m not in control of everything, and I don’t have to be.            This is where I struggle though, where I “float” along in these lonely waters, and I must calm the fears in me to live. “Waves” rage in my mind and heart, these untamed “what-ifs”, and I pray. I ask for clarity, look to the open blue sky of good still there, and remember hope is still possible. This is where I begin “sailing” these “rough waters” called everyday life. This is where I don’t listen to fear but possibility of beautiful, e...

 Live, past these "mountains". Climb, conquer, see new today. Live past your "mountains". Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support! 

           A few lights speak peace, the foreboding darkness in another direction doesn’t. At this crossroads I find myself, the old building and I here at this strange intersection of five points. The old building says "I'm trying.", while the rest of the rural community simply speaks by merely existing, tired yet existing there in the night. This is the eerie sense I take in and process, something in the environment speaks unrest to me and I am listening....listening to know how to best respond. "Should I watch, should I relax?", I am torn while my mind wrestles with these questions and I brace myself for the short venture from car to building walking with restless nerves. On the old road I travel through this black minefield of potholes and water hazards near five points, making the mysterious endeavor to this little country store.            Entering the old place I wander, search for goods of an extra sort, and begin to ca...

         All the lawns on Mentone Avenue are mowed on Wednesdays. It wasn't always like this though. Each residence had a strong and capable family to help with such tasks. It wouldn't be simply a husband mowing a yard. The mother and her kids would often help. Sure, there were times when it wasn't always done right away, or when the chores were not done out of unwillingness (the great teenage rebellion of '62 comes to mind); even then though, it was eventually done....until one day it all changed.          It seemed unusual, surprising even, yet it happened. In a moment an entire roadway collapsed and with it every house. It happened at an hour when families were away and life was being lived. In that moment the ground shook violently and the entire area fell into the earth as each home and residence was destroyed in that moment. Many heard of this terrible and sudden ordeal, a once in a lifetime event that even gained l...

         The first time there was fear...no terror, definitely terror. I didn't expect to encounter such a thing happening, still, it did. Out of nowhere (or so I thought at first) a dog appeared, and right in front of me! He wasn't massive, just unusual. I screamed and everyone looked at me. I was the only one who could see it.           He licked my face and ran off. I nearly died at the whole ordeal as the dog approached. People started leaving money near me (apparently they thought I was a street performer); it was bizarre.           Then it happened again! This time it was a person! They waved at me and started talking to me. They were looking for some place I can't even begin to pronounce. I looked at them blankly, shrugged my shoulders in confusion, and they left. I was the only one who could see them once again.            It kept happening, and the occurrences got stranger ...

          A car inoperable, a destination toward better living fifty miles away. I had a deadline to meet, a brush to achieve, and an emergency to respond to.            I could reach no one and the deadline for the completed art project was only a day away. I looked around, then to my side as eyes looked back at me, my trusty service dog watching my ever changing moods as the risk was considered of this dangerous trip to get this brush. I looked around once more, preparing for the trip. "Was it only a brush?", I questioned, noticing two pieces of broken board on my easel painfully reminding me of unstable moods I needed to check. "Okay, a board and a brush.", I told myself gathering some water and a small snack for us both. One last biscuit and some peanut butter, but it would have to work; and we were off.          First running I quickly realized it was a bad idea. We walked quickly, trying to make it sh...

             They were falling apart, and it was cold. He couldn't turn back now so he took off his supply pack and produced some duct tape from it. Little by little with increasing speed he began to tape his boots up. He knew it wasn't permanent, but for now it would work.              He tested them briefly, then continued on when satisfied. It would be a long journey, but he had come too far to quit, so he continued on. Suddenly the weather began to change and the search was on for shelter! He pushed through the winter storm as the snow nearly stopped him with each wind gust. Colder. Colder still. He refused to stop, he wouldn't as memories led him on. Flashs of older and gentler times poured into his thoughts and he remembered his community, his friends, his family. He focused on their last words in his going away party, "The marks of our family will be on the sacred tree; where our ancestors first began to settle...

         A quiet voice. An older one; still, the loud prevail. Fires burn wild, consuming the kindling of restraint, and the credible remain unheard. The quiet are left without an audience.          Voices are powerful in life, ones of helpful and harmful. We can add to another, strengthen what's broken, or we can impose a will or viewpoint. We all want to be heard, but will we listen to the variety of lives around us? Will I?            Slowly but surely I'm learning to listen. Slowly I'm discovering the beauty and value of variety in every person around me, the many perspectives and journeys taken by many in life, the abundance of variety.....ones I don't have to agree with to give respect and a listening ear to. Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to sha...

           I'm an all or nothing type of person, usually. I tend to do something fully or not at all. This has been a way over the years that has been breaking in me though. This very way often derailed me from many things until God highlighted something to me in different sources I read, listened to, and studied: when something is mastered and done in excellence it isn't ALL AT ONCE. I used to get greatly discouraged at lack of progress over the years in a thing attempted. I wanted to see growth IMMEDIATELY and expected excellence to happen RIGHT NOW; obviously this isn't the case.               Once I began simply doing something until it was done well over and over however, this all changed for me (or should I say began changing since I'm still learning it?). Sometimes I still struggle with the lack of quicker growth in something attempted, get frustrated when I hit failed attempts, and often long to do ALOT instea...

          It was loud, (deafening some might say) the waters all around us, full of conversation and chaos, and yet we sailed on.           For miles through the night we sailed. Nothing but black that consumed us, consumed our hope for a time. We had to make it though, we had to cross through the dark seas.           On the other side of danger our mission waited: a small island of 300 people out of medicine. They were cut off from everyone due to the violent storms and we dared to volunteer. Us. A ragtag bunch of average people who recently began sailing as a hobby and knew little of journeys such as these. We wanted to help though, knew we had to try upon hearing the news, and set out into the storm.          The winds threw the boat up and down with each mile crossed. We held tight and prayed for safe travels as we went through, straining our wet eyes to see through the heavy rains ...

       "It was beautiful and sad at the same time. Rubble was picked through, and the salvageable reused. Debris was then cleared away, making room for new to begin, hope to be built again. I still saw the former glory of the old place though, and hoped that somehow this reconstruction would reveal it again. ", said the old woman in a sad tone that now revealed hope.          “I was only a child of four at the time, but I could still see the worth in the old town, in the events happening. I knew it would be a big deal. I watched as memories were cleared away and replaced, and as I did, I found myself wondering what new memories would be made. I began considering the new places, as I wondered if any toy stores would be built(I was four). Would there be gardens, new flowers and trees to enjoy, to play around? My curious little mind ran away with itself, excited at the new worlds being made before my eyes." , said the old woman, as wonder and li...