Monday, April 29, 2024

Poem: Frost Covers the Cornstalks


Frost Covers the Cornstalks

Frost covers the cornstalks

Shivers shocks to the ground;

Ice covers all the walks

Where all were wont to be bound.

Colored leaves of yellow

Begin patterning grass

In myriad winnows

That were in the trees last

Night and now rimed with ice

In the yard. How quickly

Summer fades to this nice

Transition that soon grimly

Brings the bitter snowy

Cold. Just yesterday I

Was playing, now suddenly

I’m old. But here awhile

I’ll linger ‘midst colors bold

To hold in frozen tableau

My memories of old.

I still can move a bit

And, careful on this ice,

The mem’ries with wit

Arranged on grass so nice

As if still suspended

In the trees.

October 2018

About This Poem
Weather is often an inspiration for my poetry and this is an example of that. Clearly autumn works as a symbol of aging and that's the case in this poem. I also just love the fall, so I have decided I need to embrace aging as well.

 

Wednesday, April 24, 2024

Poem: When Morning Breaks


When Morning Breaks

 

When morning breaks

It teeters on the

Edge of darkness

Waiting to

Fall to the blackness down

Here but holds onto light.

 

You won’t hear it

When it falls

Into miniscule shards

Refracting rays

Like a prism’s rainbow

 

But it resounds

To heaven

In the tinkling sounds of

Shattered glass’

Reverberating crash

 

When everything

Begins new

Like blank parchment here

Scattered with

Blackened birds feet scratches.

 

And that’s the morn

You have seen

Crashing into sunlight

As it fell

Whole into broken spheres.

 

August 2022

About This Poem                                                                                                                                        This is a poem that I was inspired to write based on some wordplay with the break of morning.  It is a five four poem that has a specific pattern of syllables and lines, but taking license as a poet, I changed it up sometimes. The photo is Kootenay Lake in British Columbia, Canada.

Wednesday, April 17, 2024

Poem: The Hills Are Always There

The Hills Are Always There

  I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.

My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth. ̴̴̴̴̴ Psalm 121


The air can be oppressive, thick with smoke

Forcing us to swelter inside. Others,

Though, are forced from their homes. We are still home.

Just because we can’t see the hills doesn’t

Mean they aren’t there and smoke will blow over.

 

At other times it’s the oppressing air,

A thick blanket of fog blinds us again

But still we know the hills are always there.

At these times we have to stoke the fire’s flames,

Not pray for rain to clear the air of smoke.

 

Others might dwell in the clouds or the smoke

Oblivious to the hills, green or brown

But always there, hidden beneath a cloak.

We might live with smoke and clouds but we know

By faith, the hills are always there.

 

August 2015

About This Poem

I wrote this under the inspiration of the Psalm during a time of intense wildfire smoke. You couldn't see Moscow Mountain from our house (which you almost always can because it's so close). It felt important to remember to look to the hills even when they can't be seen and to remember where your strength comes from.
 

Wednesday, April 10, 2024

Poem: My Sunset

 



My Sunset

 It’s kind of crazy to think of myself

Running out in the woods here at twilight.

I don’t often come up on the deer here.

They typically cross my path, their white tails

Waving danger. In winter I wouldn’t

Run because of the snow. One time I was

Running on Veteran’s Day and fell and

Broke my hand. I was so embarrassed

That I popped right back up not knowing that

I was even injured. I ran a half mile

Before I even noticed the throbbing.

Now it’s summertime and I go traipsing

About through the woods frolicking with deer

Not even seeing that they are there and

Certainly not thinking that I can fall

And injure myself here when it’s almost

Dark. Then I smell the syringa heavy

On the air. I take a deep breath, look out

On the field, the last glimmer of sunlight

Changes the clouds and I think about all

The disease and my age and that I might not

Have much more time to run at twilight

In the woods. What if I fall and get hurt?

I shake that thought with just a tinge of red

And run on into what is my sunset.

 July 2020

About This Poem

I realize that I still act like I'm a kid sometimes when I'm out roaming the woods. One time I was out running and started thinking about my age and how I have hurt myself while thinking I'm younger than I am. This poems is what came of that thought.

Wednesday, April 3, 2024

Poem: Glossolalia


Glossolalia

 A sounding brass, a tinkling cymbal,

The tongues of men and of angels,

Un-understandable language

Sounding out its emptiness

To the Universe.

 

But it is a gift, this babel

Every bit as intelligible to

The Father as baby talk is

To the doting parents

Of the Universe.

 

We cry out, “Abba, Father!”

In a senseless reverie

Of intense meaninglessness

Glossing the emptiness

Of the Universe.

 

In hopes that He will

Hear our cry in all the

Emptiness of our existence

Building towers destroyed

By the Universe.

 

So that all we have left

Is this empty cry to

A father we hope will hear

Our meaninglessness

In the Universe.

 

A sounding brass, a tinkling cymbal,

The tongues of men and of angels

Interpreted by the I Am

Our very present help

In the Universe.

 

February 2022

 About This Poem

There is always controversy about religious practices and speaking in tongues (Glossolalia) is no different. It is not part of my religious tradition, but it is something that happens in Christian circles. This poem is my attempt to explain how it isn't necessarily that different from any other mutterings we do as humans, so do we really need to pretend people who speak in tongues are a little crazy (because if you've ever been to a service where it occurs you might feel a little uneasy...).


 

Monday, March 25, 2024

Poem: Joseph's Well


Joseph’s Well

 Thrown in a well because dreams I did tell

To brothers dear who could not understand

That I only meant well by that I told.

That me they would kill I could not fathom

Though from the well Reuben did retrieve me,

Into slavery he readily did

Sell me. Well, I can’t comprehend how he,

My dearest elder brother from mother’s

Sister who in a well would quell

The love for my father or for myself?

This confusion rages well within me

As now with me my master’s wife would sleep,

Yet well for his love she could not compete.

I dream no more here in this cell, yet here

Come men with dreams to tell and I know well

Their visions as once I had my own.

But brothers dear threw me into a well

Barren of water and my dreams now dry

Only to tell others of theirs in wells

Of thirst-quenching water while here I dwell

Interpreting well the dreams of others.

Bereft of father, brothers, dear mother—

The well will fill here with my tears as I

Reveal the dreams of others. Oh God,

Have mercy upon me who here in wells

Of sorrow betrayed by all I have loved,

Cry out to you well, the dreams of others.

Deliver me from the wells of my grief

In a well that is barren of water

And these damned dreams that now come from others.

 

January 2022

About this poem:

This is another poem about Joseph. He is a really fascinating character to me and I enjoy exploring his thinking lie in this poem. It's also a poem where I play with the word "well."


 

Monday, March 18, 2024

Poem: Joseph, Joseph Dear

Joseph, Joseph Dear

 By now, at dinner time

They should have seen him in his prime—

Visage of their scorned brother

Who, overcome with another

Emotion left the room

And wept, Joseph hiding his gloom

Seeing Ben, mother’s son.

Now Benjamin was there and none

Could see Joe for he left

And alone in other room wept.

In spite of all those dreams he knew

It was as brothers grew

Apart. “But God, how could you do

This to me? Parted so

Forlorn, accused of nothing and

Imprisoned, interpreting damned

Others dreams while there I rot.

Having my brothers serve is not

What I wished, yet told them

Such as I saw brought on this grim

Being. Now on this dais

Of both Egyptian scorn and praise

Freeing from famine, yet…

I wrestle with you, my Lord. Let

Me not like father be

But at peace with the God I see.”

All these struggles and tears

He hid, oh Joseph, Joseph dear.

 December 2021

 About this poem: This is another one of my poems exploring thoughts of biblical characters, mostly from Genesis. Since I'm the author and nothing is recorded, it's obviously a projection based on how I'd feel if I were stuck in Joseph's place. 

Thursday, March 14, 2024

Poem: St. Patrick's Day




 St. Patrick’s Day

 

Today we celebrate Ireland,

The land of the emerald green

Where potatoes are grand

In this wee little land

And the snakes have all gone away.

 

The sun shines bright on Ireland.

Today may the clouds roll away

And the men of the land

With a lass holding hands

And the shamrocks all in bloom today.

 

This land all knows about Jesus

And he lets the faeries here stay

For St. Patrick came singing his song

And the snakes all fled away

So Jesus let the wee folk stay.

 

It’s magic, you see, in Ireland,

The land where the music does flow

With lyrics so fine sung all the time,

The beauty from Blarney they flow

As clouds bring green to the land we know.

 

Today we celebrate Ireland,

The land of the emerald green

Where potatoes are grand

In this wee little land

And the snakes have all gone away.

 

So raise for a toast to St. Patrick

And the men and women he loved

And the saviour he brought to the Irish

In this wee little land of green

For today we celebrate Ireland.

 

March 2022

 About this poem: I'm not Irish, but I've been there a few times and I love it. It is beautiful, the people are friendly and it's just fun. This poem is a tribute to all of that along with the Saint of the day. Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Monday, March 4, 2024

Poem: Ah Reuben

 


Ah Reuben!

 

Ah Reuben! eldest of Jacob

Rubbing the feelings of your dad,

Mad not your desire to make him.

Whims o’ertake you and you love what

Lot he does. Take little brother—

Mothers not shared—he’s a great pain

Mainly in arrogance thinking—

Winging on dreams his brothers will

Willingly serve him like the moon

Swoons to the sun and you know he

Sees that your father loves him so,

More than you or your brothers

Smothered not by gifts like he—

Peeled away from the family,

Jacob inconsolably mourning—

Blasting rubbish of bowing sheaves

Weaved into his elaborate

Fated aching dreams that cause you

To want to rip him from the world.

Twirling through your mind the things you

Truly love—Old Jacob and his

Mistress, and his youngest son.

Fun to throw him to the wolves

Gloves on so traces are removed—

Loved even by you, oh Reuben,

When will you release your jealous

Lusts for what your father has and

Mend the truth within your heart?

Start by admitting you love them.

Same as you’ve always loved within,

Thinly disguised from yourself, your

Poor mourning father and his

Listless loves and all that he has,

Sad that you lost Joseph.

 

December 2021

About This Poem

This is another reckoning with a biblical character in the bible. Reuben, son of Jacob, was the brother who saved Joseph from death and allowing Joseph to save Israel by being taken to Egypt. Reuben was complicated because he slept with one of his father's concubines. Not good. But he also seemed to love his father and that's why he couldn't kill Joseph. At least that's how I read him. This is a poem exploring that.


 

Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Poem: Sons of David

Sons of David

 Sons of David, their father’s own

Wise beyond years, (Jedediah) Solomon

Heir to your father’s throne.

 

Lusty young Amnon

Fell for his sister’s own

Body and raped her once

 

But oh, brother Absalon

Would have vengeance won

By killing rapist brother Amnon

 

And shame, his own dearth

That he would have sex in exhibition

With concubines of his father’s

 

And working to dethrone

His father, his own

Who always loved his son.

 

Of the other’s less is known

Of these, King David’s sons.

Perhaps their quiet escaped the dons

 

Or drowned in the wisdom

Of their brother, King Solomon,

Or the tears of their sister’s shame.

 

Shame should have come upon

David, King in Jerusalem

Yet he was doted on,

 

A man after God’s own

Heart, for through him grace was shown

To all of us, everyone

 

Forgiving rapist Amnon

And ever enraged Absalon

And all too wise Solomon.

 

Through David God’s own

Was given, yes, his son,

To forgive us, everyone.

 February 2022

About this poem: David is a perplexing character from the bible, at least for me. This poem addresses that. It also explains my reasoning for believing there is no real black or white to people or our faith. "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." 


 

Wednesday, February 21, 2024

Rachel's Request of Laban

 



Rachel’s Request of Laban

 Years in bareness have I spent

and suffered more to be wed

to the love of my life.

 

You’ll forgive me father if here

I sit because the blood of mine

now flows as a woman.

 

You have taught me oh so much

throughout the years but here I sit

on this old saddlebag

 

from which, you know, I cannot move

for, as a woman, it’s my time.

But deeds and creeds you seek

 

of fear my husband dear did take

perchance from you and, if you find

them hidden in a tent,

 

that person will by agreement

suffer death. I waited fourteen

years to be with this man

 

suff’ring sister’s indignity

and now, my father, you, I think

should know the time of woman

 

because from you I’ve learned so much.

Yet now I cannot move from here

because of womanhood.

 

Pray father now, entrust in me

the wealth of your own children dear

for whom I’ll always weep

 

yet one of them will save us all

if now you let me stay right here

because of womanhood.

 

December 2021

About this poem: I have read Genesis over and over and I never tire of it, but I have always felt each character had a backstory to tell. This poem is an attempt at the backstory of Rachel, Jacob's second (but first in love) wife. When they left her father Laban to go out on their own, Rachel had stolen some of her father's idols unbeknownst to Jacob. Jacob told Laban he could kill anyone who had them because he was sure no one had. Rachel was why he worked so long for Laban in the first place, so if he had lost her... Anyway, she pretended she was on her period and sat on some saddle bags while her father searched her tent, excusing herself from getting up. This is a poem from her point of view with a few biblical Rachel things thrown in (like the New Testament slaughter of the innocents and Rachel weeping for her children). These stories resonate through our culture, but sometimes the characters need some rounding out to make them real to us now. That's what I like to do with some of my biblical poems like this.



Monday, February 12, 2024

For Valentine's Day

He walks in all cocky

Like a professional athlete

Who just won an Olympic Gold.

His bow and arrow are slung awry

Over his shoulder looking like an arrogant Senior

Thinking his looks will get him a diploma.

 

(Put a shirt on, Jackass.)

 

But before I can say that to him

He’s nocked an arrow and aimed it

Right at my chest

And BAM!

That arrow slams my heart.

An ache emanates through

My entire being

Shattering glass pain

Clouding my vision blood red

Throbbing with every beat of my

Heart. And the bastard’s gone

Leaving me here, screaming in pain

While your rouged lips

Laugh at me in disdain.

 

February 2018




 

Saturday, February 3, 2024

Poem: Potatoes and School



Potatoes and School

 Grandpa said

Potatoes reminded him of school.

 

Potatoes and school.

 

He said he’d wake

Nearly freezing

Kindle a fire and

Throw potatoes on.

 

Going to school

He carried them

To warm his hands.

To warm his feet

He ran.

 

He said by noontime

Those potatoes almost froze,

Said he ate a lot

Of cold potatoes for lunch.

 

Funny how we’re sitting here

Eating funeral potatoes

Thinking about grandpa,

Thinking about school.

I wonder if he’d warm up

With these potatoes

And us?

 

What I really wonder

Is why he ran away.

 

September 2020 

Monday, January 22, 2024

Every Little Thought I Type

 


Every little thought I type

Comes out garbled on the screen.

The words go through my fingers

To the keys and then…

 

Gibberish glitters back at me.

I can’t print that.

What is wrong with the word processor?

Those words on that screen are meaningless.

 

My heart would tell you

So much more like the leaves

Falling golden from the trees

In a pulsing continuum…

 

But word processing can’t capture

The steady rhythm of my

Heartbeat as I type the words

Which disappear between keys and screen.

 

September 2021

 

Monday, January 15, 2024

Harry Orchard Assassinates Governor Steunenberg (Micro-Fiction)

 


KABAM! The bomb explosion rang in his ears as he walked back to the hotel. The blast sent Harry running back in the snowy darkness. When he got there, he paid no mind to the other guests but went right to his room. He heard someone say the window casings had shaken, but that was all the scuttle he heard.

           Inside his room he remembered all the buzz from past years up north. Bill, the union boss, made no qualms about telling Harry he didn’t think he had the nerve to do it. Bill had bought him dinner at the Tiger Hotel in Burke, nudging Harry just enough to get his ire going again about the miner’s union dispute. He knew dynamite. He could do this.

            Bill talked about, Steunenberg, a Democrat labor sweetheart now clearly bought off by big money. The union had helped elect him! Harry remembered how that colored regiment was brought in, how they mocked them, white miners in bullpens. “What you gonna do with those wooden rifles you be carving behind those fences?”

            He had nothing to do with the explosion at the Frisco mine yet he had been detained for weeks being mocked by those colored boys just for being union. Colored boys sent by the President at the governor’s bidding.

Here he was, ears still ringing, down in Caldwell. He may have lacked nerve before all this, but Bill was wrong. Steunenberg was blown all over his lawn because of Harry’s new-found nerve.

Monday, January 8, 2024

Rage


Rage

 

Morning brings all the joy of renewal,

Yet every morn is still a sense of loss.

Renewal can’t come without something lost.

Each sunrise gave way to night that began

With sunset. Each newborn cry is only

The remnant of yesterday’s funeral.

Yet we persist in oblivion to

What went before, never knowing there’s

Nothing new under the sun. Yet aphorisms flow

For ignorance is bliss, indeed, and

Without it we could never go into

That good night that beats like the hearts

Within our chests, repeating its cycle

Of joy and sorrow. Right now, I live in

This cycle of choosing rejoicing o’er

Depression. But perhaps I’ve gotten to

Where I’m not really sure the difference,

Yet I will rage, rage against the black night.

 

October 2019


 

Thursday, January 4, 2024

Sermon For the New Year, Presented by me at Grace Community Church, Potlatch, ID, December 31, 2023


             I have to confess that I have never been one to make New Year’s Resolutions. I had a cousin when I was in high school who resolved to commit suicide for the new year and he did it. I think that might have soured me on New Year’s resolutions. But I have also always figured if I need to do something, change something, or resolve anything, I should do it when I make that decision. I don’t save resolutions for the New Year. I’m not knocking New Year’s resolutions, I’m just saying it’s not my style and I don’t need a therapist to explain why.

            That doesn’t mean that I don’t use the new year to take stock of the wonderful things in my life and the, perhaps, less than wonderful things in my life. I love to celebrate Auld Lang Syne—Old times and remember the great things that have occurred over the year or years, but there are always shortcomings in our lives because we’re human. So I want to look at the scriptures from today’s lectionary and take stock of them, what they say about us so that we can renew resolutions that we have already made.

            I’m going to start with the Psalm: 1 “Praise the Lord.[a]How good it is to sing praises to our God,  how pleasant and fitting to praise him!” While it’s probably true that God enjoys it when we praise Him, He certainly doesn’t need it. We don’t praise Him because He needs it. It’s a bit simplistic to ever think He is as arrogant as all that. We need to praise Him to keep our thoughts positive. I know I’m not the only person in here who reads, sees, or hears the news headlines. They are almost exclusively negative. Note that I said almost. I read an article in Time Magazine this past week that focused on how 2023 was actually a good year in many ways. Violent crimes in the United States have dropped considerably, yet I would never have guessed that by any other article in Time. The article also stated that we are really making headway on slowing our output of greenhouse gases. These are all things to praise God for. And those are the ones that affect us all, but if you read the Psalm further, it lists myriads of reasons to praise God. He covers the sky with clouds;
    he supplies the earth with rain
    and makes grass grow on the hills.
He provides food for the cattle
    and for the young ravens when they call.

10 His pleasure is not in the strength of the horse,
    nor his delight in the legs of the warrior;
11 the Lord delights in those who fear him,
    who put their hope in his unfailing love

 In spite of our negative news feeds, our David and Debbie downer outlooks, God is in control and He really does know what He is doing, even when we don’t. How pleasant and fitting to Praise Him! We need to resolve to continue praising God, to give thanks in everything. The boat floats, not because of our ingenuity, but because of God. I’m reminded of Peter in Matthew 14: “25 Shortly before dawn Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. 26 When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost,” they said, and cried out in fear.

27 But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

28 “Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.”

29 “Come,” he said.

Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. 30 But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” “

We need to hold to our resolution of knowing why the boat floats and praise Him for that so that we will stop looking down and look up. That’s how you stay afloat.

            Now don’t get me wrong, I’m well aware that that saying “Be Happy” in, and of, itself, does not work. I’m not even saying “Fake it ‘til you make it” because that doesn’t work very often either. The reasons to praise God are infinite, and by doing it, we stop looking at ourselves and work to make things better for everyone. Sometimes we just have to consciously make an effort. Get outside. Call a friend. Go for a walk. Tell someone thank you for something they did that you noticed, even if they didn’t know they did it. Gratitude for all we have and those around us are vital ways to praise Him. All praise must go to Him.

Look at Isaiah 61 10 I delight greatly in the Lord;
    my soul rejoices in my God.
For he has clothed me with garments of salvation
    and arrayed me in a robe of his righteousness,
as a bridegroom adorns his head like a priest,
    and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.
11 For as the soil makes the sprout come up
    and a garden causes seeds to grow,
so the Sovereign Lord will make righteousness
    and praise spring up before all nations.

            That praise that we give really originates with God, not us at all. We have done absolutely nothing of our own beyond simple belief, so we don’t need to be cry babies saying “Woe is me, I’m so worthless.” Of course, we are. It is by God’s grace that we are here and everything we have, everything we do, everything is by His grace. He gives our praise, our possessions, our eye color, our aching bones by grace because we don’t deserve any of it (except, maybe, the aching bones). He adorns us like a bride: the bride of Christ. Any righteousness we have comes from Him. He has that covered, not us. So let’s renew our resolve to not judge. Not our place. Leave it to God. God’s grace has everyone covered. All praise must go to Him.

            To continue with today’s readings, look at the gospel of John: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. (including aching bones) In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome[a] it.” That’s why we don’t need to worry. The darkness can’t comprehend the light, let alone overcome it. That should bring us the peace that goes beyond understanding.

And he continues: The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. 10 He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. 11 He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. 12 Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, (to us) he gave the right to become children of God— 13 children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.” That’s us. All we did was believe. We recognized him. We need to resolve to be little moons reflecting the brightness of Him, the son. By grace we are saved from the gloom and doom that really could overpower us, drown us. But we are flooded with the light that that doom and gloom doesn’t even understand. We need to continue our resolve to not be ruled by darkness. All praise must go to Him.

            The next scripture is Galatians. I think this is the first time I have ever read this passage from the point of view of being underage or mature—a parental, or teacherly, view. It’s like all those conversations I used to have with students about drinking ages and voting ages. The Mosaic law was for the underaged. Interesting thought. Here’s Galatians: “23 Before the coming of this faith,[a] we were held in custody under the law, locked up until the faith that was to come would be revealed. 24 So the law was our guardian until Christ came that we might be justified by faith. 25 Now that this faith has come, we are no longer under a guardian. (The guardian being the law, and to a large extent, a do as your told mentality that didn’t make sense until our belief in Jesus.) 26 So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith, 27 for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. (Isaiah’s For he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of his righteousness.) 28 There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. 29 If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise. What I am saying is that as long as an heir is underage, he is no different from a slave, although he owns the whole estate. The heir is subject to guardians and trustees until the time set by his father. So also, when we were underage, we were in slavery under the elemental spiritual forces[b] of the world. But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship.[c] Because you are his sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, “Abba,[d] Father.” So you are no longer a slave, but God’s child; and since you are his child, God has made you also an heir.” Not only are we now fully grown up, we are joint owners without having done a lick of work. It’s like having the keys and title to a brand new Cadillac (or a Tesla?) without even playing the lottery or anything. When you see it in that light, How pleasant and fitting to praise Him!

            And, of course, as adults, Christians, it is our responsibility to act like adults and share the grace that has been given to us. We have to forgive others and ourselves for the sins we regularly, often unwittingly, commit. We have to help others along the way without condition. We are all human, so we need to not dehumanize through politics, nationality, religion, or anything. Because we are adults we know we are part of the all that has sinned in Romans 3:23: “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” And when I tell you this, I have to remind myself over and over. God’s grace has clothed us, and given us enough clothing to share with everyone and we’re not talking Good Will used clothing, but clothing no earthly money can buy. The kind that none of us deserve. And we all know that we get kind of picky about who we want to share anything with. Jesus said in John 10:10 (KJV) “The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.” We are not the thieves, but those who have abundant life. Again, how pleasant and fitting to praise Him.

            There is no doubt that terrible things have happened this year. We have had wars abroad, divided politics at home, wildfires, death, continued disease. We can all look at that stuff, and we should, not to wallow in it, but to give thanks for what we have. We are grown ups with an inheritance that gives us pause, or should, to remember Him and praise Him for everything.

            I told you that I don’t typically make New Year’s resolutions because I associate it with negative things that happened in my life. But I do believe in making resolutions right away. And we, all of us here and many more of us around the world, already resolved to be grown-ups, to believe in the Word that became flesh and dwelt among us, to accept His grace. John 1:14: We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. So, the only resolution I want to make this year, right now and forever more is to believe and accept that grace and truth and live like it by remembering how pleasant and fitting it is to Praise Him. He is what keeps us afloat, so we need to be helping others stay afloat as well. Amen!