Blood moon

I saw a bleeding moon last night
Rising wounded in the eastern sky
Draped in mourning cloths of
Clouds and vapor,
Hiding in shame
Its pale glow giving it a dying face.

The moon will turn to blood before
The great and terrible day of the Lord.
Is it bleeding because it sees all in the darkness?
Or is it simply reflecting
What we do to each other?

I saw a bleeding moon last night
And for the first time that I can
Remember,
I felt sad and afraid at the appearance
Of an old friend

What's going on

The last few months have been a blur, so here is what has been going on.

My Mother had valve replacement surgery last April. At 78 it has been a challenge but she is slowly improving. But, I have had to be gone a lot. It is hard when she is 6 hours away so when I go I stay as long as I can and always feel guilty when I leave. I want to be there for her and my Dad but also have to make a living. So, I feel unsettled there and anxious here, but am so thankful for the amazing skill of Doctors and nurses who can stop a heart, put in a new valve, hook everything back up and get it started again. And of course, I praise God from whom all healing originates.
If only our spiritual hearts could be mended so quick.

Brandon graduated earlier this month with a degree in Bible and Religion. The Bible department at Harding had a special ceremony where they presented each graduate with a small ceramic basin and towel and then a Professor led a special prayer of blessing over the graduate. It was a great way to admonish them that their knowledge is for building up and not for puffing up.
I am so proud of Brandon. He has worked at least thirty hours a week managing a restaurant while taking a full load of classes and has maintained over a B average.
Somehow he also found time to ask his girlfriend to marry him two weeks ago.
I got him a new shotgun for graduation, a Mossberg 12 gauge with synthetic stock and fully camouflaged, designed for turkey hunting. Now maybe he will give mine back.

By the way, she said yes.
And it had nothing to do with the shotgun.

Micah also graduated with her Associates degree and received an award for being outstanding student in her department. She will finish her degree and softball career at Illinois College starting next fall.

Carden graduates this weekend and will be attending Illinois State in the Fall. So, officially we will have three kids in college this fall. I feel old. Especially now that I am selling my plasma to pay tuition.

So, that is what is going on....burning up as much gasoline as possible going south and north and occasionally east and west. In all this road time I have had some time to reflect and I am convinced that I am blessed beyond what my life deserves and the only thing I can figure out is that God truly is an eternal spring of love and mercy.

Five to Go Please, Hold the Disco.

What songs do you have to have? I mean you can take five with you when you go. Rock and Roll is the only qualification and I hope that saying Rock and Roll doesn't antiquate me, but if it does then it gives me some kind of twisted authority. Have you noticed that during the NCAA tourney that every time a financial planning commercial comes on it has music from the sixties and seventies? That's because somewhere a baby boomer is retiring and the only thing that can stir him out of his laz-e-boy coma is IN A FRICKIN GADDA-DA-VIDA by Iron Butterfly.
So he wakes up from his flash back and thinks, "Good Grief, is my 401k in order? Where's the love man?

Born in '58 I am the tail of the baby boomer generation. I protested against Disco. Not really a boomer not really a buster, our contribution was flannel shirts, Levi 501's and hiking boots. Good grief! I love John Denver AND U2! Everyone was worn out by the time it was our time. We were the margin. Who cared? Just get a job and let it go, cause the Yuppies will soon arrive and beach their Honda Accords and release their chocolate Labs on our shore.

So tonight, after one of my son's friends taped up my blown Polk audio speaker so it no longer rattled my teeth, I kept the tv off and listened to music. I loaded up the old Sony CD with my music. Alone, except for the dog, who obviously doesn't appreciate "my generation" and our music, I cranked it up and absorbed it like an albino in a tanning booth.

Music is a journey. I remember being mesmerized by a 45 on my sister's cheap mono-speaker turntable. Somehow Steppenwolf's "Born to be Wild" was encoding itself on my 10 year old brain. And the Beatle's "Revolution"? I still feel the song more than hear it. I love the music of the Doors but choose not to listen to them because they make me want to do things that are illegal. By the time I reached HIGH School the fight was over and everyone just mellowed out with the Eagles, Marshal Tucker, the Doobies, Jackson Browne and Poco.

College in the late seventies was just weird...everyone was confused. There was Black Sabbath AND the Pina Colada song. The overly tightened spandexed Bee Gees AND Peter Frampton. What were we to do? Go back to the basics....the Eagles and the Doobies. Ok, in a pinch- remember the doobies.

Do you realize our place in history? After years and years of the human struggle to achieve a better way of life it was my generation that finally gave us stereo?

So tonight, I am not disturbing anyone but the dog, who has escaped to the basement muttering something about that #*!@ bass boost, and possibly the neighbors since I realized it is pretty late for the tired old boomers in my neighborhood as I crank up "China Grove" by the Doobie Brothers.

And I wonder, If I can take five with me when I go, Which ones would they be?
WELL......tonight, at least, at this moment, for now, the way I am feeling, could be these, if I could only have five for the trip......Five songs to go....

Peaceful Easy Feeling....the Eagles (I like the way your sparkling earrings lie......)
Take it to the Limit.....the Eagles (pure, raw emotions)
Still Haven't Found What I am Looking For.....U2.... (well said)
Your Wildest Dreams.....Moody Blues (Great music, great lyrics, great vocals)
Against the Wind.....Bob Seger (poetic and true)

And.... as a bonus carry on...."The Long and Winding Road" the Beatles. Simply Beautiful, transcending all generations.

S0....what would be yours?

Catching up

I am looking out my window this morning and watching the grass turn greener by the minute. While running the trail yesterday and avoiding the flood waters I also saw purple violets spreading themselves across the ground like a fresh spring comforter. And of course, the true sign of spring....the sight and smell of worms offering themselves up like a buffet to gluttonous robins.
It is Sunday morning and I should be going to church somewhere but after Albone's recent post on Church and barbeque sauce I am more confused than ever. Do I feel like spicy this morning or sweet? Sweet Baby James at least has a biblical name but I am not sure when services start. Either way I will probably get grilled.
It is just me and Carden this morning, Colleen and Shane took advantage of spring break and headed south to Arkansas where they are visiting Brandon at Harding. They went to church already this morning and Colleen called me from services just to let me hear the singing..."Awesome God" and it was awesome.
It has been a long time between posts and a long time since I have read any blogs. I have been pretty much buried in studying for securities licensing, which I passed last Thursday. Plus, this year I had to fill out three different FAFSA applications since in the brilliance of our family planning (or lack thereof) I will have three kids in college or grad school this next fall. So, of course that means doing taxes first which is always fun and coincides with March Madness or is synonymous with it. It all has something to do with brackets and I hope I didn't get them confused, since I had one eye on the computer screen and the other on the TV. If my 1040 comes back because I claimed Bill Self as a dependent rather than myself, I will know I should have focused on one or the other.
Oh, plus we went to state in wrestling. Shane, our eight grader, was the regional champion and ended up making it to the semifinals in State, finishing seventh. The top six earn a medal so he fell just short, losing in overtime or he would have secured a possible third. He had a great season, finishing 32 and 9 overall and his team took second. Now he gets to eat again, which he has been doing quite well. I bought him a summer sausage to take on his trip and I doubt if it made it out of the city limits!
Well, maybe I should get going this morning. Please keep my Mom in your prayers as she undergoes a heart cath this Tuesday. She will probably need valve replacement so I might be headed for Missouri in the next few days. Her heart is 78 years old as of Friday so hopefully things will go well.

May you be blessed by the warming sun on your face, the vibrant colors of spring in your eyes, the smell of new born flowers in your nostrils and the sounds of love struck birds in your ears.

Spring Ready

I am ready for spring.
I am ready for the snow to melt away like the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz. It was beautiful at first, a blessing, a forced Sabbatacal from God to stay home and watch him paint the world pure white.
But, like our lives, as soon as it lays still a few days it starts turning brown, becoming the color of whatever falls on it.
But we played in it a few days, making snow angels, leaving tracks, throwing it at one another, sliding down little hills, eating it.
But the roads were soon cleared and we left the crystal city and melted back into our routines.
But now I am ready for green, that fresh, brilliant green against blue skies.
I am ready for spring storms, thunder, wind and flashing lightning.
I am ready to head south and chase a turkey through a valley filled with redbuds blooming and the fragrance of lilac bushes.
I am ready to find mushrooms and think about fishing.
I WANT to mow my lawn now.
I am ready for spring.
Are you?

Abram, Who?

Who was Abram? I find myself reading Genesis through the lens of the New Testament, and I think it distorts a proper view of this man and his times. As I mentioned in my previous blog, I am studying the life of this "Forefather" of our faith and also leading our house church discussion covering this topic. I think that I have viewed him looking through the big lens of my own culture and faith rather than seeing him as a man of his own time and place, sort of like looking through a telescope backwards which shrinks the subject rather than enlarging it.

Read Genesis 11:31 through 13:2. Was Abram's roots rural or urban? What was Ur like? Haran? I have often imagined him basically sitting under a tree in the desert waiting for his wife to get pregnant, eating figs and curds keeping the flies off himself until God appeared as he occasionally did with another hint about Abram's future.

I don't think that was the case. I have benefited enormously by reading several books about Chaldean and Sumerian culture and religious practices that makes this ancient figure even more alive than before. God's call to him did not come in a place barren of history, religion, government, education or wealth. By the time of Abram, Mesopotamia was already an ancient civilization. Much living had been done by many in this part of the world. In fact we have more information left to us by this culture and the Egyptians than we do from the little strip of land in between that is so important to us.

This understanding incarnated Abram for me. It put flesh on him. The choices he made became more important. His listening to this God that simply "appears" to him and speaks became hinge points in history for me. Read the text, grab a bible dictionary, do a little research, tell me what you see. And enjoy! More later....

New Year, New thoughts about Old Things....

It has been some time since I have posted anything so I am not sure if anyone will read this blog or not. I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and the new year is treating you well. We had nineteen at our house for Christmas so it was a little crowded but everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. Between Colleen and Brandon some pretty awesome meals were prepared and Colleen's Mother brought twelve home baked pies....so now I am running through the snow feeling like I am dragging a railroad tie with me. Like most things in life, putting burdens on ourselves are much easier than taking them off.

I have to be in Chicago for the rest of the week for a regional meeting. I am taking the train and staying downtown with some other people from our office. I know I should be looking forward to it but I don't do cities very well. But, this time I am determined to be impressed rather than overwhelmed. I might even wear my Cardinal's cap. And, I can with all sincerity say, "Go Bears!" when I need to.

I hope to share some thoughts about Abraham in this blog over the next few weeks. I have been studying his life in order to better "know" this ancestor who is the prototype for our faith. Part of my motivation for looking at his life is to attach myself more closely to those the Bible describes as our "ForeFathers". I think knowing where I am going and what I want to leave for my children has something to do with knowing who came before me, not just through my physical lineage but also spiritually.

What about you? Do you see yourselves as part of a great lineage? Do you feel connected to the household of faith through the witness of the Spirit? What impresses you most about Abraham? What "ancestor" do you most feel an affinity towards? Your ideas and thoughts would be greatly appreciated!

Must be Christmas....

There are cookies and "haystacks" and bags of sugary popcorn and tubs of chex mix and my hand is constantly reaching for something then going straight to my mouth. Christmas must be close by.
My house looks like a jungle of bright red, pink, white and green....a poinsetta wilderness; Christmas has got to be near.
The space in our closet is filled with wrapping paper and very poorly hidden gifts and I can't walk through our bedroom without stumbling over something shiny. Yep, it is almost here.
There is a cabbage in the frig and chicken wings waiting for sauce and a fifty five gallon drum of sour cream in the drive way...Christmas eve is two days away.....
There are more cars in the driveway and packages on the porch.....
There are last minute desperate dashs to the store.....
All Christmas music radio is beginning to sound a lot like.....well.....
It is almost here! That silent, holy night when everything is ready, it is too late for one more thing to get done, and we finally rest and smile at Jesus.

My wish for all of you is this: Wonderful times with your familes, safe travel if you are on the roads, special moments alone with God, a gift you give that is loved by the receiver, a gift you receive that is very special and through it all the ability to love, forgive and be blessed. Merry Christmas!

Snow is nice for Christmas but....

I like snow for Christmas, but I have to admit that I also really like 60 degree weather this time of year. The last few days I have been able to run without putting on all the extra weather gear and it just feels better. Usually I run around our neighborhood but since the weather has been so nice I have run on a paved trail that was once a couple of railroad lines that the city converted into a walking/running/biking trail that will take you just about every direction you would want to go. Some places it follows a little creek, in other places it weaves through town and heading north from downtown it ends up out in the prairie in the middle of cornfields. I run acoustically, "unplugged". I do not want to carry a little box of music with me. Part of the joy for me is to hear nature while I see it....the wind blowing as the sun sets, a hawk screeching, doves calling, a dog barking somewhere.
It always seems like I can run easier when I am not dodging cars and avoiding people on the sidewalk and turning it into a "work-out". When I can just get lost in my surroundings my feet seem to barely hit the pavement and before I know it the miles slide by. It really is a joy. So today I am thankful for nice trails and nice days in December and good shoes.

Are You Ready for Christmas?

Christmas is almost here and the question is usually "Are you ready for Christmas?" In other words, have we got our shopping done, presents wrapped, tree up, food cooked, cards sent, plans made and parties scheduled? All really wonderful things that make this time special.

I love Christmas.I love presents, both getting and giving them. I love lights on houses, especially against the snow. It makes me feel like a kid. I love eating Christmas stuff. I love being around family and having days off. I like getting up early and making coffee on Christmas morning. I like the glimmer of hope Christmas and a new year brings.

Are you ready for Christmas? Looking at Jesus and his birth and what that means to me I would have to say yes....yes I am. His birth means forgiveness. It means reconciliation. It is a gift of life and Spirit and hope and belief and the value of every human birth. Jesus was born for one great purpose: To bring us to God and God to us.

I am so pitiful in my sin and weakness that it takes a child to save me. Before he could die as a man on a wooden cross for my sin he had to be born in a wooden manger. The innocent child looking up at the face of his Mother is the innocent man who would look down from the cross into those same eyes thirty three years later.

If Christmas means forgiveness and salvation I am ready for it. I am ready in March, in July in September....

Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun,
Which is my sin though it were done before?
Wilt thou forgive those sins through which I run,
And do them still, though still I do deplore?
When thou hast done, thou hast not done,
For I have more.

Wilt thou forgive that sin by which I won
Others to sin? and made my sin their door?
Wilt thou forgive that sin which I did shun
A year or two, but wallowed in a score?
When thou hast done, thou hast not done,
For I have more.

I have a sin of fear, that when I've spun
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore;
Swear by thyself that at my death thy sun
Shall shine as it shines now, and heretofore;
And having done that, thou hast done.
I have no more.

A Hymn to God the Father- John Donne.

Gray or Grey?

I want to go running but I am waiting for the sun to return from wherever it went sometime last month, or was it September? The forecast said partly cloudy today which is supposed to mean also partly sunny, but so far.... Anyway, running in this grayness isn't very inspiring, which makes it harder to motivate myself to put on the shoes and go.

Did you know "gray" is also spelled "grey," if you are British?

I am not British, so I will spell it gray. There are other words that I could use to describe this muck but I am tired of hearing myself whine about it...so I will try a little poetry...

Today is gray
like yesterday
and the day
(dare I say)
before that day
not a ray
came out to play
and so I pray
Grey, gray
please go away
and stay out of my hair, too.

I need to work on the ending.

Class Reunion

It was like being in a time machine. This past weekend I went to my thirty year high school class reunion. About 15 of my classmates showed up, which was just about half of my class. We were the class of 1976, a bunch of farm kids that knew very little about life beyond the Ozark hills. Most of the kids I graduated with I also started first grade with. After being with them for twelve years little did I know that moving the tassle truly would mean moving on. Except for my best friend that I went to college with, I never saw any of them again until last Saturday night. Five of us went to college, a few of us moved away and the rest stayed closed to home. Most quit raising hell and started raising kids.

It was very strange to talk about retirement with an old friend when the last conversation I had had with him was about what his plans were now that high school was finally over.

One friend had died of cancer. One had lost his wife in an accident at home. Two had fried their brains on drugs. The wildest and most rebellious girl in class now worked for the Secret Service. The class nerd had his own computer company (duh!) and the one who loved his pickup now loved his big rig. My best friend is a Psycholigist (I would like to take credit for getting him started) and I still haven't quite figured out what I am. No, I know what I am I am just not sure about what I do most days.

I wasn't prepared for my fourth grade girlfriend to show me pictures of her grandkids.

We ended up at Applebees, watching the Cards win game one and telling old stories of what excellent, peaceable students we had all been. We asked about the ones who didn't come and why they probably didn't. I was reminded of how poor most of us were, some of the kids in my class actually lived in homes with dirt floors and it was great to hear that they had managed to do well despite the odds. And it was also good to be together and not care at all about the former distinctions that in high school seemed so important. Time washes us like a stream, cleansing us while muddying us at the same time.

I drove home around midnight on an old familiar road. It was rainy and my headlights caused the fall foilage to gleam red and yellow like a blur of neon. A nice buck crossed the road ahead, clearing the fence with that wonderful, effortless grace that always amazes me. I put in the Eagles and cranked up "Take it Easy" and then "Take it to the Limit". I realized that somewhere between the two we, the class of '76, had found our way.

Heavenlies....

We are blessed in Christ in the "Heavenlies". We are seated with Christ in the Heavenlies....Our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the spiritual forces of evil in the "heavenlies". (Your translation might say heavenly realms or places). Paul ends Ephesians the way he starts...in these heavenlies. The place of our struggle is the place of our blessings and safety.

I feel so earthbound. Gravity pulls me down and keeps my face in the dirt. In Ephesians Paul keeps trying to tell me who I am in Christ and where I am in Christ but I most often choose to live like a hunchback with my nose two inches off the ground.

One day Ephesians 4:4-7 will be what I fully believe and the lies will no longer worm their way through my thinking. That is my hope...."His great love with which he loved us."

Can it really be true?

Disconnected Ramblings on Stuff

The Cardinals are in and they have won the first game against the Padres. So, I think they will win because a Cardinal always beats a Padre.

Leaves are changing and the weather here has multiple personalities. I went running this afternoon and it was almost 90 degrees. By the time I finished it was only 60 degrees. That really doesn't tell you anything except that I am possibly a very slow runner or a very fast runner that headed straight north.

I like to hunt deer and turkey. I have hunted since I was old enough to follow my Dad around in the woods and scare everything away by fidgeting unceasingly. I used to bow hunt but haven't regained enough flexibility or strength in my shoulder since surgery to start again. There is one of the biggest bucks I have ever seen less than a half a mile from my house. I see him all the time when I take my Son to soccer practice or go to Wal-Mart. He lives in town and likes to lay in the grass strip between the bean fields and hedgerows and watch the cars go by. It is ironic really that I have walked hundreds of miles through brush and woods and froze my whitetail off on many a frosty morning sitting in a tree stand and now this monster buck lives in my neighborhood. I wonder if he works at State Farm?

I am studying Ephesians. It is incredible. I don't understand the first chapter. What I do get out of it is sometimes hard to believe or grasp. It doesn't help that the first chapter is basically one long rambling sentence. Paul literally got carried away, but the concepts are incredible. I have never been good at "planning" good gifts....but every gift we get from God is meticulously planned out from before the foundation of the world. What kind of love goes into that kind of detail? SIT DOWN AND READ THE WHOLE LETTER IN ONE SETTING SOME TIME. I want you to be encouraged by it, as I have been this week. Underline every time you see the phrase "heavenly places". Tell me what you think about that and what it means for us in the here and now.

I just realized that Project Runway is on. Think I will pick up that hunting bow after all.

Out at Home

I am trying to tell myself it doesn’t matter. After leading the National League Central Division for most of the season the Cardinals have lost six in a row and are losing in the bottom of the ninth tonight against San Diego. They began the last week of the season up by 6 games and in Cubesque (?) fashion are about to lose 7 in a row while the Astros, a tiny dot in the rear view mirror just days ago have won the last 7 games and have pulled almost even with us.

I think they need my help. I am going to call Pujols or Edmonds or Rolen or anyone who will pick up the phone and offer them some advice and encouragement. Maybe tell them that I am praying for them and stuff. I might send them the Purpose Driven Line Drive or Wild Pitch at Heart or some other motivational book to remind them that we were all created to play baseball and we only find our true selves when we finally slide safely into home. Sure, there are some out there that claim football is the true religion but the faithful know better. After all, football is violent and dangerous and baseball is unfathomable and mysterious…just ask the Cubs. Besides, Genesis 1:1 starts with God creating the world in “the big inning” and the rest is all statistics. So, what is needed here is for the Cardinals to simply return to the “old base paths” and get rid of those free agents of change and start playing Brock and Gibson and Musial again and maybe even find Ozzie out there. That’s when Cardinal baseball was winning the nation.

Well, they lost again, why isn’t Larussa answering his cell phone?

Talking with a Grape Man.

The view was pretty good really. I was sitting on the deck of a client’s house overlooking what is known here as the Mackinaw river valley. We were talking business but I was distracted, not just by the miles and miles of corn and bean fields that lay before me but by the pungent, sweet smell of freshly pressed grape juice that filled the vat directly below me. I was at a vineyard and winery and at that moment financial planning felt trivial compared to looking at rows of grapevines with all their eternal implications. I just kept seeing Jesus walking among those vines with a glass of wine in his hand, laughing and saying: “Come down here and let me teach you some things about vines and grapes that will make your head spin more than anything they got bottled in there!”

Eventually, we got past the work part and I began asking our gracious host some questions about growing grapes. Here is some of what I learned….

The juice from every variety of grape is always clear. It gets color from how long the juice is in contact with the skins of the grape while fermenting. Wine that has a blush color like a Rose’ means that the juice had contact with the skins for a short time. The dark red wines means the skins of the grapes were with the juice for a long time.

Grapes are still picked by hand, cut off the vine using scissors or a knife and it takes a lot of work to get a vat full. Cutting your fingers is expected.

Birds like grapes too, especially the smaller varieties-of grapes not birds. Some vines are covered to be protected against the birds.

If you would like to have a vineyard in the future you should plant it now.

Grapes do better under stress, like drought.

Wine isn’t instant.

Vines must be pruned after every season. Radically pruned. Cut back to where they look like dead sticks, with just a little bit remaining. Grapes only come from new growth. In other words, you can have a beautiful looking vineyard, with rows of thick vines and leaves and not have fruit, because grapes only come from fresh, new growth!

A few acres of grapes can make a lot of wine.

Wine tasting can be very fun.

You have to love grapes and vines a lot to do the amount of work it takes to have a vineyard.

If you need to see a real miracle to help your faith right now, go look at a cluster of grapes, preferably at a vineyard and not a supermarket.

Jesus can teach more about real security holding a vine in his hand than all the financial planners in the world put together.

If you are reading this, I am glad and I hope it has made you want to read John 15.

My Brother.

Summer has shrunk down to a few days left before its unofficial close, Labor Day. I have been trying to figure out how to do my job so my thoughts have been very much off blogging. If I had the time or motivation I would have dedicated a few lines to my tomatoes. We put in a few plants and cared for them and have been blessed abundantly by the results. How does black dirt, green plants, blue skies and clear water result in a bright red object that God in his mysterious wisdom would foreknow and elect to be the perfect compliment to toast, lettuce, mayo and slices of salty bacon that thank goodness the Apostles under inspiration would declare no longer to be considered unclean? And, yes I have been exposed to way to much Calvinism lately.
I do want to write a little bit about my brother, since he turned fifty last week on August 23. Some of you who know me might be shocked to even know I have a brother, since I rarely mention him or even think of him. He lives in California. Some who have seen him say he looks like me, which always disturbs me since he is completely, severely, mentally and physically retarded. He has never known us, spoken one intellegible word to us, or communicated to anyone in any way. He is mostly blind, has cerebal palsy, has twisted and useless limbs and spends his days either in bed or a wheelchair. He is totally dependent on medical care and technology. If the people didn't show up for work one day in the home where he lives he would not survive. He was not expected to live to be a teenager and now he has gray whiskers.

I saw him two years ago. I went with my sister who lives out there and goes to see him about once a month and always cries. She is my oldest sister and remembers him being born and coming home and the quietness and sadness. She remembers my Mom trying to care for him but he began to cry and never stopped. My folks tried for two years to manage but his needs grew as he did. Then, he left and I came along, an ill-advised replacement and answer to prayer.

I spent some time with him. I really looked at him and touched him, because for the first time in my life I wasn't afraid of him. I looked at where his skull had been crushed by the Doctor who had lingered over a few too many martini's before he responded to the call that one of his patients was in labor. He didn't know Danny's umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck either I guess. That might explain why he wouldn't come out.

I wheeled his chair out to the aviary so he could listen to the birds and feel the southern California sun on his face. Initially disturbed, his frantic arms settled over his face and he ground his teeth and maybe smiled. He did seem to grow calm and actually enjoy the sounds. My sister said he likes it there so she brings him out there and talks to him. I wonder about their conversations, what she has said to him over the years. She has been a wonderful big sister.

I talked to him too. I think he is alot like Jesus. He is sinless, but he bears all the evidence of sin. He is innocent, but he suffers because sin entered the world and somwhere down the line bit him too. He is completely dependent....like Jesus was on the Father. He loves simple things, like birds and sunshine and the soothing tones of his family. He does not deserve to live his days like he does, but he never complains. And he is like "one from whom men hide their face." And like Jesus, he will have a glorified body that will run for the first time in fields of heavenly splendor.

I do look like him, much of the time. My twisted, gnarled uncontrollable manners are well hidden though. What if God really doesn't distinquish between the outside and the inside? What if how we really look to him is how the inside really looks? Most of the time Danny would look alot better than me. What the ravages of sin have laid on him in a visible way are merely hidden in me by deceptive techniques well honed by practice along the way.

So I want to be more like him, my big brother. The one I thought I never had, at least in some meaningful way. I am not sure why he is here. I don't understand tomatoes. I don't understand vegetables, human or otherwise. I don't really understand Calvinism. I can explain it but still don't get it. But I know God is soveriegn, eternal and full of grace and love. My brother Danny told me.

A River Runs Through Me....

Most of my family left for the Ozarks today, leaving me and my Son, Carden at home feeling sorry for ourselves because we have to work. They are going down to meet relatives and float the Niangua River. I miss being with them, but I am glad they are getting to go.

I miss the river. I miss it's smell, it's colors, it's movement, it's peace. I want to lay on my back in a canoe and watch the tops of sycamore trees glide by as I drift downstream. I want the cold, spring water to steal my breath. I want to jump off a bluff. I want to play tag with a craw-daddy. I want to look at herons and hawks. I want a snake to jump start my heart. I want to find the perfect flat rock and make it tap dance across the water. I want to be born again. I miss the river.

Someone wise said: You never step in the same river twice. That is true. That can be good or bad I guess, depending on where you are in life. Life, like a river, keeps on going. It is easier to go with the current than constantly fight it, that is for sure. Maybe that is why God made rivers, to teach us something about Himself and what it means to live in the flow of His Spirit.

So, I am missing the river tonight, but in my heart I am in it, drifting along with the current, following the warm light of the moon reflecting off the dark water. I wonder if it is missing me?

Things I Still See When I Close My Eyes

Things I still see when I close my eyes:

Cascading streams of reds and purples falling to dark green fields and
skinny legs running from flashing strobes and
a wagon full of alfalfa rolling to the barn and
sweat dripping on my shoes and
stupid grins and open hymnals and
tears dripping on I Corinthians 13 and
a wiser young preacher trembling out the words and
baptized ribs smoking over charcoal and
dirty plates stained with blackberry juice and
faces fresh and smooth and
faces wearing days and
eyes full of good byes and
a road that leads to home and
another holy day gone through us.

Empathy, For a Moment

Last night, watching Edmonds overrunning third base and getting tagged out, seeing a routine fly ball missed in the outfield, watching an outfielder throw the ball to the wrong base, seeing a lead dwindle away and saying to myself, "Here we go again," I suddenly realized, so this is what it feels like to be a Cubs fan!

Finally, I understood.

I am glad it didn't last.