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Showing posts from May, 2019

When Time Is All There Is

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I’m one of those “being early is being on time” kind of people. So, when the para-transit van was dropping off a patient and blocking the driveway of my dentist, it required me to circle the block and come back. I was still early, even though I had to park down the street.
By then an elderly woman was being pushed in a wheelchair through the front doors—blocking the entrance. It was okay, I was still on time.
She checked in and was wheeled next to the last open chair in the waiting area. I sat next to her and she smiled and commented, “You look rushed.”

I looked over and smiled, “No, only wishing I didn’t need to come here for a chipped tooth.”


She nodded. I wondered where this waiting room conversation would go. I didn’t wonder long:
“I love coming here. I can lean back in a comfy chair and it’s the best waterfront view of any dentist around.” I admired her attitude. “How did you chip your tooth?” She asked.
“Flossing—which is kind of like getting in trouble for doing something good.” I re…

Remembering Uncle Arnie

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Back when I was frequently a smart-mouth teen, Memorial Day didn’t mean a whole lot. It was a day off from school. 
As my girlfriend and I walked home from school, I was bitterly complaining that our Memorial vacation was going to be ruined by the social studies essay our teacher had assigned. 
I griped the whole way to her house. She was silent.



She invited me in and walked to the living room where she reached for a picture on a bookshelf. She  handed it to me. I looked at the old black and white photo of a young man in a Navy uniform. 
She’d never met her Uncle Arnie. But to her dad, Arnie was a hero. She’d heard all the war stories again and again—and each time, Arnie was spoken of with honor. When World War II had started in Europe, her uncle enlisted. Her dad had watched Arnie ship off for a base in Hawaii. It seemed safe, but he missed his brother terribly. Then December 7, 1941 changed all their lives forever. 
Her uncle was among those who grabbed one of the anti-aircraft gun…

Good Neighbors

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The next door neighbors were here before we moved in. I didn’t know anything about them, or their odd habits, and it took Nick, the UPS driver to introduce me to them. He knew them and admired their lifestyle.
After that, I took more notice of them. They weren’t as odd as I thought. They rose early like I did, loved the beach like I did, and they seemed to enjoy sharing their time as a couple. I’d watch them sitting together just gazing out at the sparkling sea.
One time, as I sat on a beach log, and the two were sitting nearby, I snapped their picture. My zoom lens helped, because they were perched on the tallest tree. 


Yes, this eagle pair, my closest neighbors, had been slowly inviting me to see their world.

Oh, I will never see as well as they can—for their vision is far superior to my human eyes. And their gracefulness is unmatched—flying together in a way that no dance move could ever do.
Over the seasons, I’ve watched them break off tree limbs and carry them to their hidden nest. …

It’s Your Day Too

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Maybe you fell in love with the man, but the first time you met his children you got down on your knees and really talked to them. They felt wanted and it only got better from there.
You never excluded them on what could have been your date nights. You learned their favorite foods and the made them fun meals. In time you celebrated birthdays and holidays....they weren’t your kids, but one would never know.
More amazing still, is the generosity you always show their mother. She’s very much part of her kid’s lives and so your kindness extends to her. Recently, you two sat together at the school auditorium, so the kids could see you both smiling back at them as they performed. 







In a time of brokenness, you poured your love into those cracks. You made the children a priority as you forged a relationship with their father. I’m sure it wasn’t easy, and I think I would have failed.
But not you. It must be your generous heart that feels what others are feeling. Or maybe it’s a sensitivity that de…

Every Reason in Every Season

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Many, many years ago, Mom planted shamrocks beneath the protective overhanging leaves of a large maple tree. I looked forward to seeing them burst forth every spring—it was a sweet reminder that they were planted by her hand. 


But when we had to cut the maple tree down, I feared that without the tree’s generous shade, Mom’s shamrocks would die. 


Amazingly, in that first year after the maple tree was gone, several dozen bracken ferns emerged within the shamrocks. By the time summer was at its hottest, those ferns had spread across the entire area—shading the shamrocks from the punishing rays of the sun. 
Those faithful ferns have returned every year since. And Mom’s shamrocks remain vibrant.
If God cares that much about nature, how much more does He care about covering our lives with His love—for every reason in every season.



It is God who clothes the wild grass—grass that is here today and gone tomorrow, burned up in the oven. Won't he be all the more sure to clothe you? What little fa…