You are currently browsing the monthly archive for October 2007.
I spent this weekend at a local mountain retreat, listening to a psychologist/pastor talk about defeating strongholds in our lives. I wish our time together had been longer. I barely knew any of the participants or the speaker, and it takes time to break down barriers to communication and intimacy.
The scenery was beautiful too, but it wasn’t until the drive home that I noticed just how beautiful. My character needs time to loosen up and let down my own barriers. I need to spend time seeing, feeling, thinking, praying, and just being there to absorb all that God has for me in each situation. I don’t do well with superficial encounters. I don’t much like them. Read the rest of this entry »
For the longest time last night, I sat on the edge of my bed, with the Lord, talking to Him and remembering moments from my past… Read the rest of this entry »
For weeks now, from nowhere I can identify, I’ve had a song running through my head. It’s Bonnie Tyler’s song, I Need a Hero. I had to google the words to even identify the author and lyrics. I also dug up a Disney version. Read the rest of this entry »
Why do we hate?
Today’s news headlines contain two stories about major anti-immigrant campaigns in the US and Switzerland. One of them details a chain-saw attack on an Christian Angolan janitor at a McDonalds that nearly cost the victim his life. The other article examines a massive anti-immigrant campaign in a Virginia suburb. Read the rest of this entry »
It’s been awhile since I’ve seen deer in daylight. They feed at night, wandering the mountains and highways freely. For most of the summer they were invisible, until a motorist hit one of them. Around here, I only knew they came to visit by their eating habits. They obligingly ate all the leaves from my “bean-stalk” dandelions. But it’s deer season now, and they seem to know they’re safe here on the mountain, so they’ve come to visit until the snows set in. Read the rest of this entry »
Leaves are beginning to line the steps from my door to the street. One by one, then by clusters, they gather, up the steps, across the yard, and along the road, in shades of green, yellow, red, and brown, as all over the mountain, trees cast them off–last season’s discarded glory, fading now, later to wither and decompose, nourishing the ground for another Spring.
