From my childhood days to the present, I’ve been captivated by the vibrant colors of a sunrise as well as the darkening of the horizon as day yields to sunset.
This past Friday I settled into my blind to enjoy the sights and sounds of Mother Nature, and she rewarded me with the shuffling feet of a covey of quail on fallen leaves, the cawing of crows in a nearby corn field, and to an unsuspecting bobcat who trotted past me, oblivious to my presence.
My contemplative moment was interrupted when my chair suddenly ripped, and I fell to the ground. When I landed on my rump with a bone-rattling thump, I was certain that seismic monitors had sent an earthquake alert to the USGS.
Though I’m on the hefty side, the problem was not my weight, and it was not moths who had the munchies—it was a mouse. A mouse! My solitude had been gnawed away through the turpitude of a ravenous rodent that had devoured the underside of my chair like it was a Thanksgiving feast.
As I was lying on the ground, I thought of the wise words of Jesus: “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroy and where thieves do not break in nor steal, for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also (Matthew 6:19-21).”
Even though my treasure was fairly new, comfortable, strong and sturdy, it was no match for the teeth of a tiny mouse with the appetite of a Tyrannosaurus Rex.
What about your treasures? Are they fragile, frail, and feeble, or are they decent, distinctive, and dynamic? “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.
ou were healed.”
In an article in Christianity Today (October 2019), Gerald Sittser wrote about the early church and the Christians who embraced a new story. “The story of Jesus opened their eyes to see history not as a narrative of the empire’s achievements—and atrocities—but as a narrative of God’s redemptive work in the world, which often occurs in quiet and mysterious ways. For them, Bethlehem and Golgotha occupied center stage, not the Roman court.”
I’ve never heard the Apostle Paul described as a Master Gardener, but he was an authority on sowing and reaping, and He spoke about it in the 6th chapter of Galatians.
What is it that you first think of when you hear the word Velcro? Is it the stick-to-itiveness quality of this 1941 George de Mestral invention?
I don’t have any hills in my yard, but I do hear the sound of music. My feathered friends have begun their annual return, and they’re filling the air with their joyful melodies. As they arrive, they’re met by the faithful chickadees and nuthatches who have fed on sunflower seeds and weathered the winter.
Since I live in the land of 
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