The Beauty of Death

No, I'm not being morbid. Recently I've been struck so vividly by the beauty that comes from the dying process. Autumn is my favorite season. It has been, for as long as I can remember. The vibrant colors of fall, for some reason give me a boost of energy. The crunch beneath your feet, the brisk cool air, the amazing colors - it presents a smorgasbord for the senses. As the trees prepare for winter, it slowly shuts off the supply of "food" to the leaves. As the leaves try to change colors during the "dying" process, they remind me to never make excuses for not living life. The create beauty till that final breaking off point. They live - quite vibrantly, in fact - the whole time they are dying. So often I find myself holding back because it might not work out, it will take too long, or it might be too hard. Then I sit back and realize that time will pass anyway, and the "fall" might be worth the experience. I don't want to be the kind of green leaf that lets go early, because it will die eventually anyway. I don't want to be the brown leaf that that refuses to let go of my dreams, or plans just because they are mine. I want to be one of those maple leaves. preferably the orangish-yellowish ones. So beautiful and inspiring through out the dying process. That even though all odds are stacked against it, it continues to live vibrantly, affecting those around it, going full force until it's over. ________________________________ In short, I want guidance. I want to dream, and plan, and DO full-heartedly, until it is clear that God has another path for me. Then, I want to let go, give it up, and transfer my vision to the new pathway. I want to hold my dreams tight enough to give it my all, but loose enough that when God says "I have a better idea" I can let it go in eagerness of what is to come.

The Battles of War...

Iwo Jima, Japan 1945 - They fought for 36 days over an island made of 8 square miles of volcanic rock. It was a foothold, a large step in their strategy. 6800 died, over 19,000 were wounded. Their plan was to attack & win. The fought an enemy that they could not see, as the Japanese fought from trenches and underground passages. They were sitting targets, but they pressed on. Six men climbed Mt. Suribachi together, carrying a flag that weighed over 100 lbs. Their Sargent went with them. The order was to hoist the flag so every Marine on the island could see it. It was a symbol of victory for this battle, and hope for the future. New York City, 2001 - The end of the world as we knew it. Three New York City firefighters, raising a flag in the midst of desolation and despair. The colors of the flag stand brilliant against the gray backdrop of rubble. Again, it was a symbol of hope for the future of not only the city, but of the United States. It sent a message to all - We are still proud, we are not broken, we will press on, we will not give up.

These two pictures are universally known. When you see them, you know when they happened, you know the circumstances surrounding the events, but you don't always know the people in the picture. The flag raisers at Iwo Jima were Sargent Michael Strank, Harlon Block, Franklin Sousley, Ira Hayes, Rene Gagnon, & John Bradley. The firefighters at Ground Zero were George Johnson, Dan McWilliams, & Billy Eisengrein.I can tell you these names, but unless you are related to them, you most likely will not remember them.

However, there is another picture that is well known. And although it alters slightly, different angles, and different artists, it is still a symbol that has stood through much trial, as a symbol of freedom. That is a picture of Christ on the cross. My King crucified that I might live. We know His name, and He is known all over the world

At this very time, we are at war. I'm not talking about the United States anymore. I'm talking about myself, and the Christians around me. If we are not fighting the daily battles, we are losing. Japan's strategy at Iwo Jima, was to kill 10 US soldiers before being killed. Their plan was not to win, but to be a detriment to the US forces. They planned to fail. If you are not planning to win, you are planning to fail. Their is no middle ground.

The Sargent and his men carried the 100 lb flag to the top of the mountain to plant it so all could see, who's control the island was under. Christ as our Sargent is helping us climb the mountains in our lives. Am I winning the battle against self, that is hesitant to show to the world who's control my life is under? Am I willing, like the flag at ground zero, to stand out against a backdrop of sin & spiritual death & destruction? To put Christ out there, through me, that others can see the victory He is helping me to gain, and the hope He gives to others?

At Iwo Jima, those men, represented the United States, at Ground Zero, the firefighters represented our strength and resolve. As Christians, we are ambassadors (authorized messenger or representative) of Christ. Am I showing a clear picture of who Christ is?

Ephesians 6:12-20a

12For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. 13Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. 14Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness; 15And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; 16Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. 17And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God: 18Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance and supplication for all saints; 19And for me, that utterance may be given unto me, that I may open my mouth boldly, to make known the mystery of the gospel, 20For which I am an ambassador.

A house of worth

There is an abandoned old house that I have driven by pretty much every day for the last 10 months. I used to say to Curt - "lets find out who own's that house and make them an offer." It's one of those old houses with the falling down trellis, crooked window shades, overgrown bushes, ...in other words a house with lots of potential. For the past several months, the local fire departments have been using it for training. The windows have been broken out. The crooked shades, are now jagged edged from being torn. The trellis is now disconnected from from the porch roof, and hanging precariously over the driveway. As we drove by the other day, Curt said to me - "Still want to put in an offer?" I laughed and replied with an emphatic "no I think it's beyond saving". I got to thinking as we drove, how good it is that God doesn't have the same attitude as me. He still has interest in me, even if I'm not in the greatest condition. Sin works to destroy us, yet he still sees the value in us. I'm hoping the house stays for a while, it will be a good reminder as I drive by every day.

First's in Life

You know you have many first in life. Some you remember, some only others remember. Some you remember with fond memories, while others you would like to forget.

• There is your first tooth
• first steps
• first birthday
• first pet
• first job
• first vacation
• first day of school
• first car
• first surgery
• first kiss
• first child

Today I can add another first to my list. My first trip to petsmart. I believe this is a first that I will remember for pretty much the rest of my life. The first tip that this was going to be an interesting experience, was the sight of random strangers and their dogs talking to each other in the parking lot. Strangers that form a kind of bond I've only seen before once. And that was when a Duck & Ducklings chose to cross Main Street in downtown Ephrata. The second thing about Petsmart, is that you can take your pet along into the store with you. Yes, it is a store to buy things for your pet, but is your pet really going to help you pick it out? Inside the store, it was no different than outside. Aisle's were full of Dogs with their people on their leashes...wait, wrong way. Aisle's were full of People with their dogs on their leashes. Everyone exclaimed over each others dog. It was like second grade show & tell, only it was for adults. Extreme amazement at the difference in size between a Chihuahua and a Labradoodle like it was the first day that a labradoodle was bigger than a chihuahua in the history of dogs. And then came the all too answered question of the shopping trip. "So what kind of dog do you have?" After several times I was tempted to tell a half truth and tell them we have a miniature lab, but...we would politely reply in such a sweet tone, "we have a Black Lab/Jack Russel mix." Next came the all too familiar look of shock & surprise on the face of the all to friendly questioner. Followed by the familier response - "That's got to be an interesting mix", and our reply of "Actually he just looks like a miniature lab." Next in line of questioning came how old is he, how long have you had him, house dog I assume?, how is training going? and finally, the favorite part of the conversation - "Well, it was nice meeting you!" ... Oh Yes, we have officially met, I'll be sure to wave when I see you on the road. So, we made it out of petsmart without being accosted by to many friendly pet owners. While I do admit, I am beginning to like our dog to the point of loving it, it is by far not considered to be an official part of the family, and we do not consider spending $200 dollars on him at petsmart to be a necessary part of our existence. Below you can find a picture of our beloved PET "Jack"

*Note to the Reader: At the time of publishing, the writer was in a slightly sarcastic and exaggerated mood. The writer will not be held liable for any exageration of the facts in the post.

State of Mind

My mind is flying into various corners today... I think it must be trying to hide from all it knows it has to get done... We have been thoroughly enjoying our little dog. His official name has been deemed "Jack". I feel it is a very strong name, and one that has so many predecessors. Jack Black Captian Jack Sparrow Jack Ingram Jack Daniels Jack the Ripper -although he's not a killer, he does tend to terrorize my family room at times... Jack be nimble Jack be quick Jack London - on that note perhaps his name should have been "Buck" Jack Nicholson Apple Jacks Cracker Jacks ..... but i like to call him "Sir Jackson Jimmy Jabbers". When I do call him that he normally just sits and looks at me with that cute little head tilt thing that dogs do. He's getting pretty good about going into his pen at night and being silent. But he still hasnt grasped the concept of doing his business outsided. It's more like go outside, run, romp, play, bark at stones for 20 minutes then go inside and promptly go to the bathroom. Oh well, this too shall pass. If not, I'd like to introduce you to "Jack the no longer house dog".

He really is adorable...

soft black hair with white on his toes and chest

cute little voice (although we haven't heard too much yet)

playful & cuddly

adorable floppy ears

he likes to take naps next to my creative memories box

and he has this annoying penchant for early mornings.

he loves kisses - much to my dismay

7 1/2 weeks old & he's feeling a little lonely

1/2 black lab, 1/2 jack russel - he looks like a miniature lab

he likes to see himself in the mirror & pee on my kitchen floor

and he has no name yet

we could use some help in that department

we are kinda thinking of naming him "Jack"

but we are open to other possibilities

if you want to help us out, just leave a comment!

God cried today..

at least thats what I think. This evening about 15 minutes from where I am, there is a family whose world has been torn apart. Earlier this week, a man from our church was killed in a tree cutting accident. He left behind his wife, and 5 adopted children. The veiwing is tonight, the funeral is tomorrow morning. When I woke up this morning, the rain was pounding against the window and making trails down the glass. The image I got was one of God crying. Crying for the children who dont understand why daddy never came home from work. Crying for his wife who tries to grasp it all, and hold tight to her children. Crying, because His children are crying. Crying because His children's hearts are breaking. As I watched in awe at God's tears running down my bedroom window, I cried too. For my sister in Christ, who is expiriencing pain in the loss of her husband, and for her children, who at one point in their lives lost a father, and are now losing another - one who loved them so much. God cried today...I'm pretty sure of that.