I was so touched by this Apache Wedding Blessing when a friend shared it with me. He is the former president of the Four Winds Intertribal Society, Inc. in the U. S. and travels the country teaching Native American history and culture. I thought it was appropriate for this week’s challenge, since it so accurately describes one of life’s “closest” relationships.
Uncategorized
The Writer Writes
I think I’ll write a poem …
Type, type, type …
Words, words, words …
‘Twill have to be a story …
Type, type, type …
Words, words, words …
No … I guess a novel …
Type, type, type …
Words, words, words …
A saga will be better …
Type, type, type …
Words, words, words…
A trilogy is called for …
Type, type, type …
Words, words, words …
My editor now reads it …
Delete, delete, delete …
Delete, delete, delete …
I have a two-line stanza.
My Dad: A Job Well Done
Just what is a father’s most important job? To love? To provide? To discipline? Certainly all of the above would qualify as part of his job description. But, ultimately, I believe a father’s most important responsibility is to show his children what the Father God is like. That responsibility involves telling his kids about God.
But telling isn’t enough. Kids learn more from what they experience than from what they hear. And when children are told that God is their “Father,” they naturally relate that “Father” to the only other “father” they have experience with – their flesh and blood daddy. I have been inordinately blessed by God’s gift to me of a father who didn’t just talk to me about my Heavenly Father, but who excelled in demonstrating God to me. And although my life of 64 years is full of one experience after another of my dad’s faithfulness to show me God, there are three specific experience that are indelibly embedded in my memory.
The Word tells us that God is a father who enjoys His kids. He enjoyed recreation with Adam and Eve in the Garden; He enjoyed parties when He was on earth in the person of Jesus; He was always instructing Israel to have a party in His presence; and He even says He rejoices over us with singing and dancing. My dad has always been able to get into the spirit of having fun with his kids. When I was very small, he bought me a train that had a real steam engine with sparks and smoke that billowed out as it ran around the track. He delighted in playing trains with me.
But I think the events that stand out most clearly in my memory of a dad who was willing to come down to my level and have fun were the episodes in the grocery stores. My mom, dad, sister, and I always went grocery shopping as a family. That’s often a fun experience for kids, but my sister and I had the privilege of having a dad who wanted to add to our fun. So sometimes, if the store was not crowded, he would roll the shopping cart into a clear aisle, prop one foot on the bottom rung, push off with the other foot, and go flying down the aisle, grinning from ear to ear, all for the sake of bringing squeals of delight to two little girls. I’m sure others thought he was silly, but giving his girls such a treat was worth it to him. Those experiences left us convinced that dads loved to “play” with their kids, and they opened a door between God and me that made me sure I could enjoy Him just like I did my earthly dad.
The Word also tells us that God’s ears are always open to the cries of His children and that He is always present with them in trouble to deliver them. When I was a child, I was plagued by a lot of fears – most of them unnamed and foolish – but there nevertheless. God eventually got control of my life enough to deliver me from all fear, but in early years I often had serious trouble sleeping peacefully. Many nights I woke up sick, but I believe most of it was the result of fear. The cause didn’t matter, however. What mattered was that when I awoke and called for my parents, it was often my dad who immediately heard my cry and came to my side. Certainly my mom was equally loving and attentive, but for some reason my call usually woke my dad first. I have lost count of all the nights he patiently and lovingly gave up sleep to comfort and pray for me.
Once, even as a young adult still living at home, I became ill one night with alarming symptoms. I didn’t call for my parents, but my dad woke and heard me stirring around in the wee hours. He came to check on me and found me sitting in the living room, in the throes of, not only the symptoms themselves, but also the disabling fear brought on by those symptoms. He immediately suggested I make a bed on the living room sofa, gave me two aspirin, sat down in a big chair opposite the sofa, and started talking to me from God’s Word. He spoke God’s truth to me until he had talked me back into faith. He then continued to sit in that chair and promised me that he would sit there and pray until I was back to normal.
Within minutes I was sound asleep. I woke once some time later to see him still sitting in that chair praying. After that night I was totally delivered from that physical problem. But more importantly, my dad’s concrete example made me even more convinced that when my Heavenly Father said He’d be there for me, He’d really be there. I’ve never doubted it once since that night.
The Word also promises us that our Heavenly Father knows our needs and will provide for us liberally. My dad has worked hard ever since I’ve known him. He’s worked hard at earning money, at providing a peaceful and safe environment for our family, at serving the Kingdom of God, and at helping those less fortunate than himself. When growing up, I was aware that we were less than financially prosperous by the world’s standards, but we never felt that we wanted for any necessities. And, somehow, my parents’ efforts and sacrifices managed to provide a few extras as well.
One particular experience of provision during my early college years stands out. I was commuting to school at the time so still living under my dad’s roof. I got up one morning and walked into the kitchen, straight to the bread box, intent on making toast. The box was empty. Now, my dad generally left for work a little before the rest of us woke, and we had only one car at the time, so grocery shopping usually had to wait until he was home. When I saw the bread box empty, I thought, “Oh no! Now what can we do?” I wasn’t anxious to begin my day with a very long walk in the heat to the nearest store. Then suddenly, in the very next second, I thought, “Wait a minute! I know my dad. He would not have gone off with the car for the whole day and left all of us with no bread! I know he had to get us bread!” With that thought I began looking around, and turning to the other end of the kitchen, I saw a brand new loaf of bread in the middle of the table. Dad had been to the store to buy the loaf before he left for work.
That event may seem minor to many people, but at that point, God Himself spoke to my heart and said, “You see: In exactly the same way that you absolutely know without a doubt that your dad would not fail to provide even something as minor as bread, you can also know without a doubt that I will never fail to provide everything you need.” I have thought of this incident many times throughout my life. It has quickened my faith each time. And I have to wonder what my life would have been like if I had not had a dad I could trust so implicitly as my example.
Needless to say, I consider my dad worthy of being named “Father of the Year.” He will always be my winner. And whether he is ever awarded any earthly honors or not, there is an enormous reward awaiting him in Heaven for having exemplified so accurately that Holy Father to whom all creation will eventually bow its knee.
Thank you, Dad! Happy Father’s Day!
Feelin’ Old When You Look in the Mirror ???
When Moses was 120, and had led close to 3 million people out of Egyptian bondage to a land of freedom, his eyes were not weak, nor was his strength abated; when Caleb was 85, he waged successful warfare against the Anakim to take possession of Mt. Hebron as his own property in the land of Canaan; when Grandma Moses was 100, she was still painting (and getting paid for) the pictures that made her famous; when Eamon de Valera was 91, he had led Ireland in its fight for independence and was still serving as her president; and when Winston Churchill was 82, he wrote the 4-volume “History of the English-Speaking People.” So what’s a few wrinkles got to do with anything?
Weekly Photo Challenge: Friendship
Weekly Photo Challenge: Summer
‘The Day I Forgot To Hate’ – a short story by Ted Pavloff
A wonderful story to celebrate Memorial Day and all of the soldiers who sacrificed for us. I congratulate Ted on his creativity and talent for taking personal experiences during WWII and turning them into enjoyable stories. I hope he does many more.
(In honor of Memorial Day, I am sharing another of my veteran’s short stories. This story, like “The Day I Forgot To Hate,” is fictitious, as are the characters, but it is based loosely on some of my own experiences as a Marine during World War II.)
It should have been another ordinary day at the Cole farm, but the conventional pattern of activity was abruptly altered when the letter arrived. In effect, a new day was born and Cynthia was making the most of it with an explosive brand of excitement that seemed especially reserved for such an occasion.
Ben, her husband, suddenly found himself being recklessly danced around the simple but spacious kitchen. He did not resist.
“Just think,” Cynthia gleefully exclaimed. “Just think!” Isn’t it wonderful? It’s…it’s unbelievable!’
She released her encircling grasp around Ben’s waist, raised to tiptoe and kissed his tanned cheek. Any…
View original post 2,755 more words
Thank You, Veterans!
To serve during a time of peace exhibits Faithfulness.
To serve during a time of war exhibits Courage.
To serve because the cause is just, and it is the right thing to do exhibits Honor.

Memoirs & Archives
I want to take advantage of this Memorial Day to express my limitless appreciation to every man and woman who has or who ever will lay their lives on the line for my freedom and that of the rest of the world. ‘Thank You’ will never be enough to say.
Finding Healing
As most of you know, I am not only a writer and teacher, but a minister of the Gospel as well. Over the past few weeks, some other faithful Christian ministers and I have begun to unite our efforts for the purpose of creating a brand new blog site that will be devoted to helping people receive healing from the Lord Jesus Christ. There are hundreds of thousands of people in the world today who are sick and suffering. Sometimes, they can get the help they need from medical science, but more often than not – especially in the case of truly life-threatening diseases and conditions – they can get only a brief respite from symptoms and long, painful, treatments that carry no promises of complete recovery.
I have been in ministry for nearly 40 years, and have been privileged to teach people the truth about how much God wants them well, and how He offers that healing through the finished work of Jesus Christ. I have seen God’s Word and the power of His Spirit deliver people from some of the most ghastly physical maladies and restore them to perfect health. So have the other ministers that I am united with in this effort. So have scores of great teachers and ministers of the Gospel from the last two centuries.
But people have to know the truth before it can set them free. So that means they have to know the truth about healing from the Lord before it can set them free from sickness and infirmity. This new site, “Healing From Jesus,” is dedicated to helping people KNOW – and helping them RECEIVE health from the Lord.
So if you know anyone who is in need of healing of any kind – for body, mind, emotions – or who needs deliverance from addictions or other debilitating conditions – please let them know about “Healing From Jesus.” Give them the opportunity to take advantage of the ministry offered on this new site. Here’s the link:
Weekly Photo Challenge: Hands
When I think of “hands,” one of the first things that comes to mind is the cover of my book Healing Is For You! The artwork for the front cover, reminiscent of the theme immortalised by Michaelangelo, is actually a portion of an original work by artist David Davis (House of David, Christopher, Illinois.) Since there is no hand as powerful, as tender, as creative, as victorious, or as life-giving as the hand of God Himself, I couldn’t think of any picture more appropriate for this week’s theme than one depicting God’s healing hand reaching down to touch the hand of His creation.
Mom Memories
Well, here we are: Mommy and Me (age 2) at my first cooking lesson.
I’m joking, of course, but on Mother’s Day I like to enjoy the blessing of having had a mom who was such a precious and unique woman. My mother taught me much more than cooking. (Although she was certainly one of the world’s best — most probably because everything she cooked was conceived by and chocked full of LOVE.) But, more importantly, she taught me how to be kind, loving, gracious, generous, and hospitable — to all people. I hope I learned those lessons well enough to make her as proud of me as I have always been of her. In my adult years, she was my closest and most trusted friend, and although she has been gone many years, I still miss her very much indeed.
Rolling hills, misty oceans, “flying flowers,” laughing children, newborn lambs, charming English villages, centuries-old churches, and approaching storms that energize you with their beauty rather than threaten with their wind and rain. What do all these things have in common? They are all found at one blogging site: the home of “The Dorset Rambler.” I think perhaps I have fallen in love with this site. Maybe it’s because I live a very stressed life and need a lovely ramble myself – or because the beauty of God’s creation has always entranced me – or because I love to visit historic places that have been the cradle of so many lives well-spent. Or perhaps it’s because gorgeous photos that bring the landscape to life and words that carry me away to a place of refreshing are hard to find in this troubled world. But this site offers me all those lovely things. So I have re-blogged just one article to bring the site to the attention of my readers and give the rest of you an opportunity to visit and enjoy several of these delightful rambles with the man from Dorset.
I had a great walk yesterday, and saw areas that were new to me! That’s one of the things I love about walking – no matter how much you do it, there are always new areas to explore and new sights to see. And in different light, different weather, different times of year, different times of day, even the familiar can look different and new. I never tire of Dorset and its wonderful countryside!
Yesterday’s walk was in west Dorset and started with the familiar, but from a different angle. This was Colmer’s Hill, a much photographed landmark with its tiny clump of trees on the top. The hill was named after the Reverend John Colmer who was once Rector at Symondsbury and the trees were apparently planted around the time of the First World War. Someone once asked me how you get to the top, but in reality, I…
View original post 1,221 more words
Weekly Photo Challenge: Unfocused
Playing Tag with the Moon and Trees
I couldn’t resist that full moon tonight, so for about an hour I played camera tag with the moon and the trees. I’ve generally not had much success with photos of the moon with my very old digital camera, but some of these weren’t too bad. The slide show shares the best 6 of the shots. It was interesting to see how everything changed as the sky grew darker and I captured the moon through different trees.
Slideshow
In Memoriam: Dora Saint
My world is sad right now: I learned this week that one of my favorite authors passed away very recently. Dora Saint (better known by her pen name Miss Read) was a prolific writer of novels, as well as magazine articles and British television programs. But it was her novels that endeared her to me. They were truly some of the most uplifting, comforting, life-appreciating novels I have ever read. I have read most of them over and over again — and in fact am in the middle of one right now.
I’m always saddened when someone with such a powerful gift and talent from God departs this earth and leaves us a little poorer. But she wrote scores and scores of books in her 90+ years, and her gift to the world is still very much alive.
I post this memorial in honor of Dora Saint, in gratitude for her legacy, and for the joy she has given and continues to give. I only hope that I can at least come close to being as influential and life-affirming for my readers as she has been for me and for the tens of thousands of other readers who have loved her dearly.







