God intervened in our pathway from the beginning…from Noah to Moses and the prophets. And finally, when all else failed, He sent His only Son. Mankind has battled his precious ego pursuing prestige, fame, money, power and all the other tangibles and intangibles. For what? If we fail to bow a knee to God, none of our foolish grasping matters–He wants, exhorts and rejoices in our obedience. I’m pretty sure He’s saying, "What is a man without Me?"
They said he walked on water. Healed the sick. Gave eye sight to the blind. Raised some from the grave. Say, what? You’re kidding, right? For those who have heard these stories from 2000 years ago, it’s almost overkill. Can you imagine what it must have been like to see a man raised from the grave. or another given eye sight. of the Savior of the world walking on water…even turning water into wine? I wish we had a You Tube clip…I’d love to see the entire Bible.
"You’re the story of my life"…how about…"You’re the Life of my story"?
We’re pushing 52 years in the Great Land, having come from Oregon or. Fog Heaven. I don’t think we’ve seen fog like this in all the time we’ve been here…fog for a day, but 4 or 5 in a row? Now that’s unusual. Love it. Be careful out on the byways because it’s thick in places.
Anyone out there give me an update on the tourney at Service, as of Tues. evening’s results? Thanks. lk
Like streamlined bullets, they rocketed in, necks and backs arched, wings rigidly cupped and set in downward half circles, the green-headed mallard drake and the mottled brown hen slammed into the pond, orange, webbed feet kissing the brownish water and skidding to a stop within five feet of touchdown…at the Cuddy Park in Anchorage. Experiencing such beauty…is it any wonder the lad fell in love with the outdoors?
It wasn’t a bird…too quiet. Superman? Not loud enough. It wasn’t a plane, either, though it sounded like one. The roaring jet engine was actually rumbling wind, forecast at 80-plus miles an hour and scouring our neighborhood. Seventy-foot tall birch and eighty-foot tall spruce danced in rebellion, their tops swaying fifteen to twenty feet either way, violently whipping their limbs in opposition. But the rumbling continued. As forecast, the wind subsided in the late afternoon. Now the leafless limbs of the birch and the green-black needles of the spruce evolve into a golden sheen with the setting sun. And the storm subsides into serene beauty.
I believe in miracles. Yesterday it was 30-ish degrees and with white covered ground. Winter. Today it’s 43 degrees and windy with green ground. Wow! Just like that, winter’s over and it’s spring again. Ain’t that sweet?
Where’s there’s a way, there’s a will.
Almost. About an inch of snow on the ground; lots of ditch divers; but around noon the roads began clearing and snow evaporating. Looks like the winter chores have another shot at being accomplished. Hope so. Thirty-two degrees at 5:30 PM and absolutely gorgeous in Anchorage.