This morning I had the thought that if we could get a higher altitude view of life, especially in the moments when we’re mired down in the weeds or mud of a tough circumstance, it would make it easier to go on. Imagine walking through a late summer corn field when the corn’s taller than you are, following someone who is cutting a path or design in the field. From the ground’s perspective it would all look very much the same: rustling rows of green corn stalks as far as the eye could see. If you could fly up above the field and look down, however, you’d see the design taking shape. You might even have an “Aha!” moment, smiling and saying, “I get it now.”
If you’re the member of a marching band, from where you march and play on the Astroturf all you see is a large crowd of fellow musicians, all dressed in the same costume as you milling around, looking like a mess. If you sat high in the stands and watched the same band however, you’d see those rows of marching players become patterns and shapes morphing from one to the other and it would make more sense. It would be more fun. The purpose of all the milling about would be clear.
I need God to lift me to a higher altitude when I’m in the weeds of a confusing situation, or one where nothing around me is pointing the way. Right now I feel like I’m in that corn field, calling out to God, “Okay, which way?” only to hear just the leaves rustling. I turn and turn but I just see rows. Continue reading

It’s good to get away but always good to get home. However, as we were getting ready for bed last night I found myself feeling grumpy, out of sorts. I asked myself why. We just had a great week, learned lots of good things, had nice time away together. What do I have to be grumpy about? I’ve been intentionally trying to have a positive, faith-filled attitude about everything, but some emotion I’ve been pushing down bobbed up to the surface. As I lay down to go to sleep, in my head I told God, “It’s not fair, God.
Time for an emptying of this too-full bucket of thoughts I call my brain.
Over the two years we worked together he became a really good friend. He and his wife Darlene, kind of adopted John and I with our three little girls. One night they had us over for dinner. We enjoyed a delicious meal and then while John and Gil chatted in the front room, Darlene took the girls and I into the den where snuggled down into comfy chairs and on the floor to watch figure skating and eat popcorn. It was such a lovely night. I’ll never forget the last day I went to see him as his secretary.