My photography team driver noticed this view on our way back from Kerrville, and subtly suggested I take a picture of it--after nearly driving off the road in excitement! Way to go, Brenda!! Good eye.
Shadow of the Cross: Scene outside my apartment window as I read my morning Scriptures. Truth can only be understood in the shadow of the Cross. And the Cross is God's message of love to the world outside.
If I had known what I thought was an annoying piece of junk mail was actually my Father's Day gift check, I would have opened it much more carefully... (And why did I open it at work--with witnesses present?!)
Yep, almost Father's Day again. Hopefully I gave my sons more than just this impression of parenting...
"We count as service what we do in the way of Christian work; Jesus Christ calls service what we are to Him, not what we do for Him. Discipleship is based on devotion to Jesus Christ, not on adherence to a belief or a creed... A man touched by the Spirit of God suddenly says--"Now I see Who Jesus is," and that is the source of devotion." -- Oswald Chambers
Due to global warming and the general political climate, psuedopods are beginning to move inland...
The Key To A Great Marriage: Sharing & Celebrating The Differences. She's salty and I'm cheesy...
I know there's a bigger picture to focus on, but sometimes life looks and feels like this...
We have been coming to see our good friends here in the Hill Country since 1999, making numerous trips from the Dallas area over the years until moving down here ourselves in 2007. They live on some property just outside town that includes some nice rolling hills and lots of flinty rocks. Flint is the stuff of legendary Indian arrowheads, of course, and their property has its share of Indian history. An amateur rock hound since a small boy, I always enjoyed little forays on the property looking for rocks whenever we had a chance to visit, all the while dreaming of one day finding my own arrowhead. I would often find interesting shapes and pieces of flint that I liked to imagine may have been the beginnings of an arrowhead or tool of some sort. But I could never find the real deal. I finally came up with an all purpose category to legitimize my findings, calling pretty much any odd shaped chunk of flint an "Indian tool" of some sort. After a number of years it became a standing joke with my friend any time I would visit him. He kept insisting that the stories about his property's history were accurate, and yet could not resist the impulse to occasionally plant a "store-bought" arrowhead on his property to help ease my pain and keep me searching. I thought the one propped up against his front yard tree was a little obvious, but we both enjoyed keeping the tradition going. After all, I am a true rock hound at heart.
Memorial Day, 2009, everthing changed. We have now lived here in Fredericksburg a little over two years, and I still cannot resist kicking rocks around our friends' property. Lately I have been using my photography as a cover for doing so (although obviously I love taking pictures!). On this holiday I was once again taking a nice walk on the property, taking my time and taking pictures as I went. While looking over one of the large tree limbs that had recently been blown down by a recent storm, a flinty-looking rock caught my eye underneath the branch. I reached down and picked it up--and I could not believe my eyes, nor even the testimony of my own hands as I slowly turned the object over and over. No, it wasn't an arrowhead. It was much larger! And there was no mistaking this one. Even though the flint was caked with dirt and appeared as though it had actually been there for some time, I looked around to see if my friend was hiding somewhere, ready to burst out of the foliage in a roar of laughter. But nothing--not a sound, not a soul around. This was going to be a really good day!
Later on after sharing my find with my friend, he graciously gave me permission to keep my treasure. "After all," he said, "this has been ten years in the making!" I thanked him excitedly, but did notice just a tinge of sadness in his face. And I understood; it was the end of a great ten year, near-legendary tradition between the two of us...
I'm not too worried, however; I know he will come up with something new...
Ain't she a beaut?!
Some amazing colorations on this one too.
Once more from "One Square Inch of Silence":
[Following the author’s meeting with the director of the National Park Service:] “In the hallway, walking to the elevator, [Sharon] Kliwinski [with the Park Service’s National Resources Program] laughs, seemingly for no reason. But she’s not smiling. I ask her why she laughed. “Well, it’s all relative,” she says. “You’re talking about the wilderness, but I live next to ReaganNationalAirport, and after nine-eleven, what did I hear? I heard footsteps for the first time. I heard my neighbors in their homes. I heard my community, and it went on for three weeks. And when the planes resumed flying and the quiet stopped, I cried.”
