Month: August 2010

The Storm

Thoughts

The Storm

From my protected window three stories above the beach I am looking at a raging sea.  The wind has blown in and violently churned the waves into frenzy.  The water is no longer clear but whipped green and frothy.  The seagulls that normally float effortlessly on the rising wind currents are hunkered down on the beach in the lowest dip they can find.  The beach chairs have blown around and the umbrellas that shade them are shuttered down to prevent them from snapping like dry twigs in the forest.  The people who normally populate the beach have scattered into their dry and safe condos all along the beach.  We are in a storm.… Continue reading

Lessons From A Preschooler

Thoughts

Lessons From A Preschooler

My granddaughter just taught me another lesson. Bouncing in to my room to deliver some clippers, she handed them to me and I noticed that she had Sponge-Bob band-aids on both thumbs. I began to wail and carry-on like her arms had been cut off with a machete. I lamented that she had hurt herself and that she shouldn’t do that to her best thumbs and generally went pseudo-berserk to get the attention of my four-year-old granddaughter. She kept trying to interject something into my tirade of whining and crying and blubbering about her poor defenseless thumbs but I was louder than anything she was trying to interpose.… Continue reading

The Green Hornet and The Ditch

Thoughts

The Green Hornet and The Ditch

The van was a forest-green Chevrolet. It was a one-ton vehicle with a suspension so rough and bouncy you had to stop at the dentist office every so often to get your teeth tightened up, and it had a 454 cubic inch engine that enabled that 1980 twelve-passenger van to pass everything on the road but a gas station. Whatever trailer was hooked behind that van was going to be pulled effortlessly down the highway. That van did not have style, but it had muscle and could easily pull 10,000 pounds of cargo.… Continue reading

Honor Is Gasping For Breath

Thoughts

Honor Is Gasping For Breath

I want to honor, but honor is gasping for breath. The hills seem all uphill now with no gentle valleys to let honor breathe, and the roads have turned from pavement to rutted dirt preventing the purpose of the road, conveyance of passengers, from accomplishing its mission. The travelers that should be moving along honor’s path have slowed to a trickle and in some places, stopped. The road for honor to travel is weed-filled and treacherous, hiding and harboring enemies of the idea of giving honor the place God commanded.… Continue reading