The clarity of a foggy morning

An early morning in June along the Pacific coast in Oregon is a little different than mid-summer in good ‘ole land locked Missouri.  By now, the heat is already stifling and the humidity is beading the on the brow back home, even if I’m in the shade.  Here up north on a family vacation, sitting out on the porch, I’m wearing sweats, sweat shirt, Bob’s hat, wrapped in blanket and drinking hot tea.

Does this place actually exist, or am I just dreaming?

They do have humidity, however.  It’s in the form of fog, and lots of it.  It hangs heavily over the mountains in the distance, and even the near pines are hiding on this particular morning. At least intermittently.  I mean, they kind of come and go. 

“That Guy”

Perfectly timed for me, and maybe for you. Check it out.

New Hope for Dry Bones

The other day, I read something that a cousin of mine wrote about my Uncle Norman.  He quoted him as saying, “That’s between you and God.”

I thought about that for a while.

Actually, I am still thinking about it.

One of the things I have had a hard time getting through my layers of thick bone that make up most of my head and into my often alarmingly small amount of brain tissue is that ultimately, a man or woman’s relationship with God is between him or her and God.

That may sound simple but as it usually works out, I take simple and complicate it.

I have a problem with wanting to define what makes a relationship with God.  Even when my relationship was the most unhealthy, I still found ways to insert my standards are ideals into the relationship of others.

Paul warned Timothy about people like…

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