Do you ever think back to the times and places that are now nothing but fading memories and wonder? “What could have been?”One of the more intriguing photos from my grandmother’s collection is this one. Handwritten is a date, 1936 and this caption. “As we left for California, a close up and the end of our N. Dak Ranch.” There are other photos that depict the life — and none of it looks easy. There are images of weathered men... Read more
I remember I had a job for a while as a teenager, folding and unfolding chairs for church. It wasn’t done with a lot of happiness. In fact, I resented it. It wasn’t for pay. My mother had offered my services and the tedious labor was joyless. That is until I had a sage older man pull me aside, and he patiently told me that what I was doing was allowing people a chance to hear God. “You are doing... Read more
I often equate listening to God with silence. But that’s not an easy task. At my home, I can usually count on silence to be pierced from the dog next door, the ever-present highway noise that rumbles a half-mile away, or neighbors that always have to speak a few decibels higher than necessary. A walk in the woods offers moments of quietness, but still my own feet crush the ground and my jacket crumples in the crisp air. A tranquil... Read more
Growing up, there was nothing more intriguing—and confusing—than love. It’s supposed to make the world go round, but really, it just made me dizzy. People would fall into it, and then out of it. And to my young ears, every emotional response sounded strangely similar to a stomach ache from eating too much candy. Cradling me in her arms, my mother whispered the word to me. And I sensed it as I was consoled by my father, telling me that... Read more
It only took a few unplanned 50-degree days and my thoughts are now turning to my urban “farm.” Last year, it was a 4×4 square plot of land that held 16 different kinds of vegetables. The onions, tomatoes, peppers, and the lettuce did especially well. But the beans died on the vine and the carrots were too narrowly planted. This year, I’m “doubling the farm” and will have an 8×8 plot. I’ve got the framing built and the seeds bought. But... Read more
I stood in the cold night and wondered what in the world I was doing there. The volunteers excitedly pointed out objects in the night sky, Orion’s Belt, the Little Dipper, and Jupiter all beamed in the moonless night and the Colorado sky that stretched from horizon to horizon. Still, it was cold and dark. But the star watch coordinators were enthusiastic, even giddy about the sky. They spoke of the spin of the earth, the southerly shift of... Read more
This photo was taken last fall — and I pray this little guy is doing well through the winter. Please, share with a friend if you feel moved. Read all past issues at http://www.patheos.com/blogs/davidrupert Read more
Well, God here I am again. It seems like I was just here yesterday, confessing the same thing. It seems like full circle, doesn’t it? What’s that? You don’t remember? Serious? This forgiveness thing really messes me up. It’s so hard for me. And so … easy for Him. I think that God’s memory is long – eternally long. But He says He forgives – and forgets. I don’t understand it, because I don’t have the same capacity for love. I forgive, try... Read more
Steve A Johnson Men have an easier time dressing for work than women, I’ll admit. Most guys wear basically the same outfit, with minor variations. Without much effort or expense, I’ve always dressed just a little better than the frumpy guy down the hall and a little below the boss. It’s the happy medium that seems to keep me out of fashion trouble. For years, I wore a tie and even a coat to work. But eventually, the prevailing crowd wore me... Read more
He’ll set everything right. I’m counting on it. Please, share with a friend if you feel moved. Read all past issues at http://www.patheos.com/blogs/davidrupert Read more
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