Turbulent Transformations

A fellow teaching compatriot, Leilani Smith, has crafted a new skill since we both left the school—painting. That’s her “Water into Wine” above. I easily saw the blue of water, at the top right, and the red of wine at the bottom left, and the turbulent mixing of the two in the center. But she neither intended nor noticed the faint presence of a face top center. A suggested jaw line, a mouth and nose, and shaded eyes.

What a metaphor of the turbulence that accompanies following Jesus and the transformation he brings to our lives. Let’s experiment and…

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God's View of Us

When younger, in my arrogance and conceit, I thought I could understand why God loved me. I was pretty good. Loved him. Followed him...mostly. Decent mind. Decently good looking. But as I’ve aged, taken some blows, and recovered in part from that overwhelming self-confidence, I see myself more accurately. Now, I’m astounded that he loves me. Yes, I serve him. Yes, I’ve changed a lot. But I am far more of my inconsistencies. I better see transcendence, and the innate distance between us.

Then a message by my pastor…

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The Power of Yielding

Paradoxes have recently driven my thought life, and faith. Even my tech experiences. My old laptop’s birth way back in 2018 explained its slow work, how it sometimes froze. So I bought a new one, yet delayed transferring over, and the issues increased. Finally, four months after the purchase, I started the transfer on Saturday. It’s still undone. I can’t get Google Chrome on it, a requested router password didn’t work, although I took it directly off the router. The paradox? I…

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Lessons from Nam for a Marginalized Church

This bird above would have been like my bird. Back in college, I signed up for the Navy ROTC, to fly an F-4. They approved my app, sent the paperwork to DC for final signatures, and somehow lost it. By the time they discovered their mistake and asked me to resubmit, life changed and I declined. But seeing this jet at the Palm Springs Air Museum brought back memories, and a lesson for the church in a now secular society.

Not long ago, some friends and I discussed the changes…

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The Brevity of Life

140 years ago, this gravestone of my great great grandfather was fresh and clear. Now, the information about his life can only be read with difficulty. Not long ago my wife and I traveled to Park City Utah, near the birthplace of my father, to combine a week's vacation and a family heritage tour. Thomas Jefferson Thurston pioneered a valley east of Ogden, accumulated a number of worthwhile accomplishments in his 80 years, and passed away in St. George UT in 1885. But outside his family and a few historians, few know of him (yes, he was…

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Lose it. Quick

On my ride to meet Rich in Grand Junction to tour Colorado and New Mexico, I stopped in Mesquite, Nevada to fill my bike’s tank at a Sinclair station and my belly with a Western Bacon Cheeseburger at Carl’s Jr. The mediocre burger could have been an omen. 50 miles later, beyond St. George, I noticed the gas gauge was almost zero, with 30 miles of range left. That bothered me, my CTX1300 can near 200 miles on a tank, so I slowed down and looked for a station before my scheduled stop 50 more miles in Cedar City. The needle continued to fall, then found a station 10 miles before Cedar. With the new gas, the mileage slowly improved, leading me to suspect I got some bad gas in Mesquite.

That night my stomach…

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A Good Campsite

Last week’s post focused on a recent Sierra trip; a lesson learned on distinguishing between good and bad, using the analogy of eating trout. But it also taught a lesson about paradoxes, two truths that at least seem to oppose one another—the concept of balance. Another metaphor, this one on choosing a campsite. (relevant even for non-campers!)

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Of Fish and Bones

Early October of this year featured a five-day trip to Rock Creek, about 25 miles north of Bishop on 395. This celebrated a Riter centennial: Dad first traveled up here on a washboard dirt road in 1925, and he got me hooked on Sierra fishing, camping, and Fords. On the second day, my sis now living in Kentucky called, and the topic of trout came up. She declared she didn’t care for them, too many bones. Being trained in debate, and knowing the tastiness of trout, I used an old line, “Life is like eating fish: pick out and discard the bones, and enjoy the meat.”

She didn’t buy that, but…

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