Roots

There’s this tree in my front yard that gives me fits several times a year. It leans. No, it never breaks or stops growing . . . it just leans. It’s attractive, deep green, nicely shaped, and annually bears fragrant blossoms. But let a good, healthy gust give it a shove—and over it goes. Like, fast. It happened today. Right now the thing is tilted on about a forty-five degree angle towards the north.

Newborn

Two hours away from our own front door we traveled completely around the world. We didn’t miss a continent. From Paraguay to the Congo. From the Serengeti Plains of Tanzania into the tropical rain forests of Malagasy, across the Indian Ocean to mysterious Malaya. Then it was the tundra of the Arctic Circle, Scandinavia to Mesopotamia, Egypt to China, Manchuria to Siberia.

Trophies

He was brilliant. Clearly a child prodigy . . . the pride of Salzburg . . . a performer par excellence. At age five he wrote an advanced concerto for the harpsichord. Before he turned ten he had composed and published several violin sonatas and was playing from memory the best of Bach and Handel. Soon after his twelfth birthday he composed and conducted his own opera . . .

Destination Unknown

Do you know where you are going? The place? Dublin, Ireland. The time? Toward the end of the nineteenth century. The event? A series of blistering attacks on Christianity, especially the “alleged resurrection” of Jesus of Nazareth. The person? Thomas Henry Huxley. You remember Huxley. Devoted disciple of Darwin. Famous biologist, teacher, and author. Defender of the theory of evolution.

A Psalm of Thanksgiving

BY NOW, YOU’VE NOTICED I’ve got a love affair going with Thanksgiving. It has been going on as far back as I can remember. Hands down, it’s my favorite holiday of all. Here’s why . . . First, there is no way it can be commercialized. Have you noticed? Shopping centers jump from spooks to Santa . . . pumpkins to presents . . . orange and black to red and green. It’s doubtful that any of us has ever seen (or will ever see) a Pilgrim hype. Just can’t be done. Except for grocery stores, merchants are mute when Thanksgiving rolls around.

Looking for the Prize

GROWING OLD, LIKE TAXES, is a fact we all must face. Now, you’re not going to get me to declare when growing up stops and growing old starts. But there are some signs we can read along life’s journey that suggest we are entering that inevitable period of transition. Physically, the aging “bod” puts on the brakes. You begin to huff and puff when you used to rip and zip.

Things That Really Matter

IF YOU FOUND YOURSELF near the end of your days, close to death, who or what would you most want by your side? That’s a compelling question, isn’t it? I know that as I grow older, much that I once attended to and perhaps even worried over through the years means very little now that I’m in my eighth decade. In those times of rare but necessary reevaluation, what’s really important comes into clearer focus.

Pursuing Worthy Trophies

HE WAS BRILLIANT. Clearly a child prodigy, the pride of Salzburg, a performer par excellence. One of the most brilliant and gifted composers of all time left earth at the young age of thirty-five. The man lived most of his life in abject poverty. He died in complete obscurity! His official name was Johannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Amadeus Theophilus Mozart. With a handle like that, he had to be famous.

A Quiet Place

IT IS ALMOST 10:00, MONDAY NIGHT. The children are snoozing upstairs. Aside from a few outside noises—a passing car . . . a barking dog . . . a few, faint voices in the distance—all’s quiet on the home front. That wonderful, much-needed presence has again come for a visit—quietness. I recall when our children were little, how valuable times of silence were to both Cynthia and me.

The Satisfaction of Being Thorough

I HAVE JUST TAKEN MY Webster’s Dictionary off the shelf and looked up thorough. It means, “carried through to completion, careful about detail, complete in all respects.” Thorough is my kind of word! I learned the importance of being thorough from my parents while growing up in south Texas. Most weren’t so fortunate.

Category Archives: Christian Living