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Category: Milestones

Nothing Lasts Forever

I haven’t worn a watch in over 25 years. I guess, maybe, I’ll need to start. Or, not.

The past couple of years have been, well, let’s just say, challenging.
From antagonistic politics to the corona virus we have all had to make adjustments to our thinking. These are obstacles that we have had to navigate as a community. At least, most of us have tried to act like we are our sisters’ and brothers’ keepers.

Other changes have been more personal.

Two years ago I was looking forward to retirement. I spent nearly 50 years in the printing industry. The last 30 were at the same place. I had made the necessary arrangements with my financial advisor. My wife and I were preparing ourselves for the new stage of our relationship that was just 3 months away.

Then, in early February…cancer.

A routine colonoscopy revealed stage 1 cancer.
Immediately life changed. Instead of preparing for a happy transition into retirement turned into preparation for colon surgery. Those who have shared some of this journey with me know that the process did not go smoothly. What should have been a simple surgery turned into 4 surgeries and several months of unplanned-for shit. Literally.

Still, I had the end of my career to shine a bit of light on things. Even with an ostomy I could look forward to my last day of work. There was the pizza party with cake and cards and stuff that accompanied all retirements.

Then, enter Covid 19.

The last month of my time at work turned into isolation and working from home.
At that time I had not seen my coworkers for a bit over a month because of the surgeries. So, I spent the last week and half sitting in my home office monitoring things while the person who was taking my place got a baptism of fire.
April 1, yeah, April Fools’ Day, was my first day of retirement. March 31 should have been my final day at work with all the festivities of saying Good Bye and Good Luck. Instead, one day melded into the next. There was no mixed-feeling send off. I had no opportunity to really say good-bye to folks. Some of them I had worked beside for nearly 30 years. No pizza. No cake. No cards. No nothing.

Just gone.

So, why cry about that now?

Last month the owner of the company I worked for passed. He was a large person and a larger personality. Those of us who had the pleasure of working for him gathered for a final goodbye. I was happy to see so many of my old work friends. Some I hadn’t really seen since before my surgery.
Something was off, though. I felt myself firmly on the outside. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, the only thing that we really had in common was work. And, I was no longer working. It could have been all my imagination, too. Whatever, there was definitely a schism. And, I felt it.

It seems that while we share time and experiences with others there is a very real community. Our common goals cement us into a family-like organism. We consider one another sisters, brothers, mothers, and fathers. All of those dynamics keep us coming back day after day. Then, one day, everything is changed. The family still exists. However, the one who leaves is no longer a member.
Oh, I know that some will disagree with this.
For those I can only way, “Wait. You’ll see.”

Just before Christmas I received that watch shown at the top of this post.
It’s the one I should have gotten on my last day. But, of course, that wasn’t possible. We were isolated, remember? So, apparently it sat, wrapped, in the desk of the HR manager. That is until we saw each other at a funeral and she remembered and decided to ship it to me.
(Still no pizza or cake)

So, now I guess it’s official.
I’m retired.

Gee. Wow. Yippee. Whatever.

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Confirmed!

Well, it’s official.
I am now a confirmed Episcopalian.

Yesterday I was one of 10 adults who stood in front of the Church where a bishop laid hands on us and welcomed us.

It was a bit weird.
Part of the Confirmation was that we state our intent to take Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior.
Well, that’s something that I did nearly 50 years ago.
So, I guess this was more like a re-commitment to follow Jesus within the context of the Anglican Church.
Ok, I’m good with that.

What is significant for me, though, is that I am now accepted into a tradition that is ancient, yet modern.
It is larger than me, yet as small as my faith.

I have searched for nearly a decade for a Church community that I could embrace, and would embrace me.
A Church Home that is welcoming and inclusive.
A place where the Spirit of God lives and gives life.
Somewhere that diversity is sought and celebrated.

I have found that, and more, at St. Barnabas.

So, here I am, old and feeble, with yet another new beginning.

What will the future hold?

I haven’t a clue.

But, in this moment I am glad to be walking with these people, at this place, in this hour.

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Happy New Year!!!

Ok, I know! It’s November 1st, not January 1st.
But, today is an anniversary of sorts for me that marks a rather significant milestone.
Before I get to that, though, there is another milestone I want to share.

THIS IS MY 400TH BLOG POST!
(And, the crowd goes wild!)

I went back and checked. My first post was written using Blogspot on
December 12, 2009. Considering that it’s been a decade in the making, maybe 400 posts doesn’t seem like a lot. But, it is. Trust me.

The other reason that this is a significant date for me is that one year ago today I started my first NaNoWriMo.
And, that ushered in a year of pretty substantial creativity from me.

I finished NaNo at the end of November with a novel of just over 50,000 words.
During that month I learned a lot about the process of writing. I learned that to create anything takes hard work and showing up Every. Single. Day. I had to average almost 2,000 words per day in order to achieve the goal.

And, I did it!

One of the results of that experience was an increase in content output for me. Yeah, I didn’t show up a lot on this here blog thingy. Not nearly as much as I would have liked. But, I began what has now been a nearly year long process of introspection. I primarily use Journaling for that work. Right now I’m on my third journal since Jan. 1 and will be going out to buy a fourth this weekend.
And, yes, Journaling is creative writing.
It enables me to tap into the Creative River that courses through the Cosmos. Writing this way opens my Heart to the internal Pulse of Life that animates me as I walk through the fields of this life. I also continue to develop the discipline of showing up every day to think, create, and write.

So, yeah!
It’s New Years for me!

Tonight I will begin the task that is NaNoWriMo 2019.
In 30 days I hope to have another 50,000+ words completed.
As near as I can tell, this is the Best Way to ring in a New Year!

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2018 – A Reflection

Well, it’s that time again. You know, when everyone who has access to the internet shares their views on the year that is now closing. There will be pundits who go over every little bit of political detritus so that they can show everyone how politically astute they are. There will be others who will share with us all of the tech milestones that we have passed. The latest smartphone or Alexa type device will be hailed as the greatest development since the automatic bread slicer. Others will write about entertainment or sports happenings. They will want us to know who the movers and shakers of the industry were. And, they’ll tell us about all of the folks who began 2018 but didn’t survive to ring it out.

I’m not going to do any of that. No, I’m going to keep it personal. Not that my life this past year has been in any way newsworthy. It hasn’t. I am pretty sure, though, that any one who reads this, (maybe both of you!), will be able to relate. After all, none of us are entertainment or sports stars. We don’t hang out in the halls of government. Nor do we own the World Wide Web. I think that we’re all pretty much the same. Just regular folks trying to get by.

So, what happened…

Well, one thing that I don’t think that you can relate to is that as of yesterday I have been sober for one year. “What?” you ask. “You had a drinking problem?” Well, it depends on how you look at it. From where I was in 2017 I could say, “Problem? I drink, I get drunk, I fall asleep. See? No problem.” The truth, though, is that I do have a problem. So, going all through 2018 without imbibing is a pretty big deal.

Perhaps as a result of the first thing, I spent more time on personal fitness. After all, I’m getting to be an old fart. I already had one heart attack. I seriously don’t want a repeat of that. In fact, during June and July I averaged nearly 100 miles walking. I completed the equivalent of a half marathon twice. I slowed down a bit during August and September because of weather. Plus, I had other activities that helped keep me fit. I hope to continue working at this in 2019.

I spent more time writing in 2018 than in previous years. Some of you are aware that I completed NaNoWriMo in November. 50,000+ words in just under 30 days. I also completed that novel by the second week of December. And, I just started a second a couple days ago. Although, I’m under no time constraints with this one. Maybe, by spring I’ll have a first draft. I also decided to pick up the pace here a bit. Whether anyone reads these posts or not, I have continued to write and share. Hopefully, that’ll continue into the new year.

One of the more obscure things that I did was to confirm with a financial advisor that I will, in fact, be able to retire before I reach 70. That was welcome news. Although,that won’t become a reality until 2020, it is something to look forward to. I will never truly retire and become a snow bird traveling between the North and Florida. But, I will no longer be working for someone else.

The biggest accomplishment, though, is the fact that I made it through another year alive and fairly well. It has required an effort to accomplish this. The stuff I wrote above played a large part in making it. I am grateful to those who have had my back during this year, and previous ones. And, I’m learning how to let gratitude continue to grow.

Yeah, 2018 had some rough moments. But, overall I think that it lived well. Soon, that old guy, Father Time, will swing his sickle and all of those past moments will be reaped and stored into the barns of Eternity. From there we can access them, process the grain, and the memories can then sustain us as week walk into the unknown of 2019.

Blessings to you!

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On My First Official Preaching Gig

Today I had the pleasure of sharing a message with the folks at Nova United Methodist Church in Nova, OH. What a great group of people! Below is a transcript of that sermon. I didn’t present it verbatim. But, this is close enough.

Thank you all for allowing me to share this morning with you. It’s a great pleasure for my wife and me to join with you.

I also want to express a special thanks to Bro. Harry for inviting me. You have a real treasure in him. He is blessed and a blessing.

When Bro. Harry asked me to share, he suggested that it might be good to share a little of my experience with him. Especially, the time we have spent working through what are called the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises. For those who are unfamiliar with that, I will explain a little more later. For now, though, I’ll just say that these Exercises were developed by Ignatius of Loyola in the late 16th century as a practical means of discerning, or determining God’s desire and will for a person. In a way, many of us are on that very journey of discovery. Ignatius simply wrote down his method for others to follow.

So, that being said, I would like to share with you a story. I like stories. I like to read them and I like to write them. Stories allow us to share our perception of the world. More importantly, they provide an avenue in which our stories intersect with the stories of others.

I began my story with Jesus about 43 years ago. I was in high school at a time when we in the West were in the throes of tectonic cultural upheaval. There was a war raging in Southeast Asia, morés and traditions were questioned, and many times abandoned. There was growing unrest among young people. And, there was an immense amount of mistrust. In the midst of this, God’s grace touched me. I was soon involved with various religious and church groups. I found stability and acceptance in that time of great change.

Soon, I began to have thoughts of pursuing a career in pastoral ministry. I knew that would involve earning an undergraduate degree followed by seminary. As the time for my departure to college neared, I found a job that paid real money! As an eighteen year old with a car and a few bucks in my pocket, I decided to enter the workplace and lay college aside.

Over the next 30 some odd years I became a father and a soccer coach. I was involved in a couple different music ministries that had the opportunities to play throughout the northern Ohio/Western Pennsylvania region. We also were able to team up with other organizations and play in Australia and Brazil. I worked as the music/worship leader of a small church in Elyria for over 15 years. During that time I realized that much of the music that was being sold as ‘Christian’ was very shallow and theologically questionable. That was the primary reason that I sought a seminary education. I needed to know what God really expected from us mere mortals.

In 2005 we were at our daughter’s graduation from Mt. Vernon Nazarene University. As I watch her cross the platform to accept her degree, I sensed that I should attempt to go back and pursue my own degree. I inquired at Ashland Theological Seminary and attended a fact finding weekend. I asked one of the admissions representatives about my chances. Especially, since I had no undergrad degree. She told me that the chances were slim, but that they were allowed to admit a certain number of ‘special’ students each year. So, I began the admissions process. In June of 2006 I received my letter of acceptance. I was going to college!

During my time at Ashland God began to touch my heart in new ways. My 1st year I took Theology 1. I learned something profound that colored the rest of my time there…and since. I found out that it was ok for Christians to think! Imagine that! Up until that time I had been in a community that pretty much taught us that we needed to accept whatever the leadership said because, well…they were God’s anointed leaders. We were taught not to question them much. And, especially, not to question God.

Later, I was introduced to people who practiced what we today refer to as the ‘spiritual disciplines.’ These involve practices of prayer, meditation, contemplation, fasting, etc.

I began to understand that there were many ways to approach God. There was more than just the Lord’s Prayer and saying grace at the table. I began to follow what is called the Daily Office. This is a series of prayers for each day. Normally, morning & evening prayers and readings taken from a source like the Book of Common Prayer and the Roman Catholic Breviary. Those in my church tradition felt that reciting prepared prayers dampened the spontaneity of the Spirit. These kinds of prayers were always wooden and unfruitful because they could not voice what was happening right here; right now. But, I found freedom and life in this practice. I felt as though I was truly part of a larger body of believers. People around the world were saying these very same prayers. I experienced a sense of unity with followers of Christ world-wide.

After I graduated from Ashland in 2011, I continued many of the practices that I had begun there. Then, on November 3rd of that year, things changed. I woke up on that Monday morning and got ready for work. I didn’t feel well. I bent down to tie my shoes and immediately felt something like bad heartburn. But, it was different in some ways. I told my wife and she, being the dutiful nurse that she is, gave me some aspirin and we drove to the hospital. We arrived at the ER and the folks there hooked me up to an EKG machine. Within minutes I heard a voice over the overhead speaker say, ‘Code Crimson; room 4’. That was my room. They called the code and I was suddenly surrounded by a crowd of people poking me with needles, taking my clothes off, starting IVs and shoving aspirin and Nitroglycerin in my mouth. I was having a heart attack. They wheeled me into the Cardiac Cath lab and began to look at my heart. The main artery of my heart, the so-called Widow maker was 100% blocked. By all accounts, I should have died that morning. But, thanks to the people at the hospital and God’s grace, I’m still here to talk with you.

During my recuperation, I began to get up earlier to spend time just ‘being’ with God. Sometimes I would pray vocally. But, most of the time I was simply quiet in God’s presence. I started each morning by saying, “Here I am, Lord, your servant.” This was my way of stating that I was present and attentive to God. And, I began to pray each day, “Jesus, please come, abide in me. And, let me abide in you.” I figured that if Jesus had said this in John’s Gospel, then it must be a real possibility.

Let me interject a caveat here. I had been a follower of Jesus for about 40 years. I had tried innumerable methods of prayer. I tried to ‘will’ myself to spend even 10 minutes each day in prayer. Nothing ever worked. Having some kind of regular devotional time just eluded me. Now, I found that it was no problem spending time in God’s presence. I firmly believe that this was not the result of anything I had decided to do. There was no ‘willing’ it to be so. This was entirely the result of God’s grace alone.

This brings me up to the time I met Brother Harry. I felt a need to have someone in my life who could help me to develop this new relationship I was experiencing with God. I searched online and came upon a source that talked about Spiritual Direction. I contacted them and they sent me a list of names. Brother Harry was one of those named. I e-mailed him and we set a time to meet. That was 2 years ago this past March. After a year or so of meeting, Harry suggested that we begin Ignatius’ exercises. We began that process in November of last year. This is where I began to experience the reality of today’s Gospel text. Jesus said, “Abide in me, as I also abide in you.” Many translations of this use words like, “remain in me,” or “dwell in me,” or “live in me.” These are all valid translations. But, I like “abide.” That word, to me, is inviting and homey. It has the sense of being comfortable and relaxing with a friend. That’s exactly what I’ve experienced with the Exercises. Whereas, many people look at this text and see “believe in me,” that is, “give mental assent to what I have taught you,” Ignatius invites us to put ourselves ‘into’ the text. We learn to experience the stories. It allows us to build a relationship with Jesus, the apostles, and the others who were part of Jesus’ life. Memories are made as we imagine the scents, sounds and sights of ancient Palestine. Trust is built. Trust in God that what we are doing is guided by the Holy Spirit. I think that it is all part of our living God’s graciousness toward us.

Let’s take a closer look at this passage in John. I’m not going to do a full-on exegesis of this. There is so much that could be noted in here that I couldn’t possibly touch on all of it. But, I do want to share a little of what I think Jesus was trying to communicate. There’s a lot of talk about ‘pruning,’ and cleansing. This sounds painful. I don’t want anyone coming near me with hedge clippers! However, Jesus stated that the point of that was so that much fruit would grow. Then he said, “Hey, trust me. Abide in me.” At first glance this looks like a conditional statement…“If you abide in me, then I’ll abide in you.” Read this way, the emphasis is placed on human action. Jesus will abide only and if we abide in him first. However, this whole passage is focused on Jesus not on human activity. Jesus is the vine. Jesus abides in the Father. Jesus is the source of life for the branches. It’s all Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. If we can take into account all of the linguistic gymnastics that the translators have gone through, I think that we can find a better understanding of this text. Rather than an ‘if/then’ conditional statement, I think Jesus is offering an invitation. George R. Beasley-Murray, who wrote a commentary on this Gospel, suggests that a better rendering would be, “Come. Step into union with me, and be assured that I am remaining in union with you.” We are invited into a relationship with Jesus because he knows that he is the true source of our faith. Parabolic analogies and metaphor can only go so far. But, I don’t think it would be out of bounds to take the ‘vine and branches’ illustration a step further. Yes, the vine has its roots deep in the earth. From there nutrients are carried upward and outward to the branches. The branches, in turn support the leaves and the fruit. In return, the leaves collect the sunlight and transform that energy into food that supports the vine. It appears that Jesus was stating that he desired to have a living relationship with people. That this was not a one-way deal. We can’t just sit passively by and wait for inspiration to rain down on us from heaven. Yes, God’s grace is the engine that drives the relationship. But, our response to that grace is of vital importance. God really, really wants us to know Jesus. And, God wants us to realize that Jesus really, really wants to know us.

This is revealed explicitly in vv. 13-15. Jesus told the disciples that they were no longer considered servants, but that he thought of them as friends. Friends whom he trusted with the words of God. Friends with whom he found comfort and pleasure. Friends who he was willing to lay down his life for.

The Ignatian exercises are all about this friendship. From the beginning we work to understand our place in God’s world and our world. We travel with Jesus from his baptism through his ascension. We talk with him and allow him to speak to us. Like I stated earlier, we need to trust that the Holy Spirit leads us. But, I think that’s part of having faith. I’ve learned that the Spirit works in our hearts and lives even when we don’t see it. There is renewal and transformation happening for those who love God and are called according God’s purposes.

This morning I’d like us all to reflect and see where God might be working in our lives. Perhaps, God is calling us all into a more intimate relationship. A relationship with Jesus, not just as Lord, but also as friend and brother.

Let’s pray…

Heavenly Father, we are so grateful to you for loving us enough to come and join with us in humanity. You are a God who knows us and understands us. And, You are a God who desires us to know you. Please, allow your Holy Spirit to fill and guide us as we seek to build a meaningful relationship with you. Amen.

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Remembering the Class of ’73

This past weekend was our city celebrated Homecoming. There was the requisite high school football game on Friday night. On Saturday people gathered for a parade and other activities. Sunday morning the local Kiwanis club served their pancake breakfast to the hungry masses. This year, however, there was an additional event. It was the 40 year reunion of the Avon Lake High School class of 1973.

Forty years since a group of people, many of whom had grown up together, walked onto the football field dressed in maroon and gold caps and gowns.  Forty years since we sat anxiously awaiting the proclamation that we were free to go out and seek our fortunes. Forty years had flowed by since we hugged and slapped each other on the back. Forty years in which many of us had raised families and watched our children graduate from high school. Forty years that had passed by in a heartbeat.

We had a fairly good turnout for the event. Classmates came in from all over the world to attend. One good friend of mine had just arrived from Kuala Lumpur. Another from Atlanta, GA. Still others from New York, North Carolina and Chicago. I was surprised at how many of us still lived here and had never connected. Yeah, there are a few folks that I see from time to time at the local stores. But, out of all the people from our class, I can count on my fingers the number that I have seen and talked with. On that day in June of 1973 we all walked away from one another with our diplomas and our dreams.

The next day my wife and I told our daughter about the reunion. She responded that she probably would not attend any of hers. She said that she really didn’t have too many friends in her class, so why bother. I have to admit that I had shared a bit of apprehension about that myself. I don’t have too many fond memories of my years in high school. It was a time of transition and change. Awkward young teens growing and developing into young adults. New experiences and responsibilities strive with childhood security and comfort. There is a desire to fit in and be accepted. Yet, there is also, the need to explore individuality. For many this makes one’s image a matter of great importance. What to wear and who to hang out with are things obsessed about. Add to all of this raging hormones and a dash of teenage angst and the whole high school experience can become something altogether forgettable.

At the reunion, however, I found a group of people who had grown and matured. The lines that had defined us had long since dissolved. Where once there were jocks and freaks; greasers and bandies, now there were just people working day to day making a living the best that they can. I saw people that I had loved and cared about secretly, because they weren’t ‘cool.’ Now we were all free to embrace and affirm one another. Businesses, bills, children, responsibilities, and aging parents have worn the rough edges like waves battering granite cliffs. The years have produced lines of erosion etched into our faces. These things have leveled the playing field. We were, at last, equal. Equally worthy of honor and respect. Equal in our quest for immortality through the next generations that we have brought into existence. That night I saw classmates, peers, sisters and brothers.

The most difficult part of the evening was remembering those who could not be with us. The folks that planned the event set up a special table with the name tags of those who have passed on. I’m sure that everyone else felt as I did. We’re simply not old enough to be feeling our mortality like this. The really hard part was realizing that many of these people had passed through the veil in their youth. Seeing some of the name tags ripped open memories that I had thought were healed. I guess they will never completely heal. And, that’s a good thing. Our memories keep us in to connect us with the realities that we once lived. The guys in auto-shop and the math/science geeks are all part of what has made us who we are. Our memories continue to shape us even as our original experiences did. So, we raise our glasses in gladness and hope. To the class of ’73…God bless and Godspeed.

What are some of your memories of school?

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The Moments that Make Up Our Story

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Once upon a time…..

The story opens and new worlds and wonders open with it. I love stories. Any kind of stories. Happy ones; not so happy ones. Stories that thrill; stories that sooth. I’m currently reading one of J.K. Rowlings’ Harry Potter books…again. (Yeah, I’m that kind of geek!) I’ve read other fiction by authors as diverse as John Steinbeck and Mario Puzo. I’ve spent hours in non-fiction that only a true bibliophile could plow through. I love the stories found in the Christian bible. Especially, the gospel stories. By far, however, my favorite stories are the ones that happen in real life. These are not written anywhere on paper. They are written in people’s hearts and lives.

My own story has been a mix of triumph and tragedy, like most everyone else’s. If I could graph the peaks of joy and the valleys of sorrow it would resemble the line of an EKG. These show the points at the tops and bottoms that reveal the heart’s function. I’m still amazed that my cardiologist can see the residual effects of the heart attack I had almost 2 years ago just by looking at these points. But, how much attention is given to the lines in between? Isn’t their purpose simply to connect the dots? Maybe. But, in the real life stories that folks have shared with me, the ‘in between’ lines carry the most important meaning.

As I reflect on the form, or graph, of my life I notice that the various points are the goals that I’ve worked toward. The peaks are those goals that have been met successfully. My wedding, the births of my children, my graduation from seminary. The valleys reveal the goals unmet. Vocational choices, some relationships, realizing personal worth. These are the things that I remember. These are the signifiers of my presence in this world. But, they are only points. They are singular events. There is a lot of time in between when nothing seems to be happening. Cutting the grass and doing the dishes. Paying bills and driving to and from work. There are the hours spent in front of the television or reading books. These are the mundane moments; seemingly meaningless.

Over the past year or so, I’ve been learning, slowly learning, that these times in which nothing seems to happening are potentially full of meaning. They are not simply that part of our lives that run on ‘auto pilot.’ They are the moments in which decisions are made that will affect the next peak or valley in our lives. And, if we’re not careful, we can miss these constructive moments. ‘Mindfulness’ and ‘being present’ are terms that some people use to describe the activity of simply paying attention to the moment we’re currently experiencing. I find myself constantly looking ahead to the next thing that I must do. I have this task to complete; that place to go. What’s for supper? (Even though it’s only noon!) How am I going to pay that bill on time? Myriad things vying for my attention right now!

What if I did the dishes simply for the sake of doing the dishes? What if I was truly ‘present’ at the washDishessink? Not allowing my mind to wander off to all of the other things that need to be attended to. Not reflecting on the triumphs and failures of the day prior to this moment. I could pay attention to the suds and the temperature of the water. I would see that spot of whatever that isn’t washing off. My mind would not be cluttered, but would be at rest; free to exist in this one moment that can never be captured or repeated. Then, this moment would be able to have its own significance in the whole of my story.

What are some of your ‘in between’ moments? How do they fit into your story?

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Milestones…

Milestones. Wikipedia defines it as “a series of numbered markers placed along a road or boundary.” The purpose is to provide some point of reference along a road. They serve the multiple purposes of letting travelers know that they are on the right path and to reveal distance travelled toward a given destination. The Hebrew Bible has a term for this, also. In 1 Sam. 7 there is a story about God securing victory over Israel’s enemy, the Philistines. The prophet Samuel set up a stone to mark God’s provision and called it ‘Ebenezer,’ which can be translated as “the stone of help.” He placed it as a memorial…something to help people remember what had happened.

Today I have a milestone that marks my progress in the Way of Jesus. This is the 200th blog post that I’ve written. Holy Smokes! Whodathunkit? Over the past few years I’ve had the pleasure to publish my thoughts and musings in the most public forum that humans have ever enjoyed. I’ve been read by people in Russia and Europe; India and Asia. These words of mine have been dispersed throughout the U.S. Yes, God has provided for me in this endeavor. I am extremely grateful to our Good Creator for granting me this privilege.

So, today as I sit in my office with incense burning and enjoying a wee bit ‘o Irish coffee, I say ‘Thank you!’ to those who have put up with my rants and raves. To you who have taken the time to share my heart and mind. Especially, I thank those who are my friends and still like me after they read what I write. (No easy task, I assure you!) I intend to continue on this journey, placing other milestones along the way. I so love all of you who have chosen to join me. God Bless You Real Good!

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