Down By The Lake

 That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat by the lake.

Matthew 13:1 (New International Version)

The above verse goes on to tell about the crowds surrounding Jesus, and how he got in a boat, from which he began telling parables. I like the picture painted in this short verse, though. I imagine Jesus sitting by the shore, watching the gently rolling waves, waiting as people gathered, walking many miles from their homes.

I’ve written here before, I’m sure, how much I love being on the shore of a lake, feeling the power in the water, drawing peace and strength from those waves. I know that I really can only acquire peace and strength from my Savior, Jesus Christ, but I see him in the water and in the blue sky above it. I can sense him in the leaves and pine needles of the trees outside as well. And even in the green beans and slowly ripening tomatoes in my garden. And I hear him in the laughter of small children and feel him in the warm, weathered hands of the elderly.

Yes, Jesus is my rock, and that rock, in my head, is on the shore of a quiet lake as well as in everything else around me.

Thank You, Lord, for being with me everywhere. Amen.

2020 Camping Post #2 – A Day of Towns, Waterfalls and Closed Places

 It already seems like our July vacation was so long ago. I’m glad that I take so many pictures on every trip as sometimes it’s the only thing that helps me remember. That and of course my camping log.   
               It was a strange trip though, with the pandemic going on, everyone wearing masks and most museums and other tourist spots closed. We gave it our best shot though.

               Tuesday, our first full day, we first headed out to Horserace Rapids, fifteen miles south-east of where we were camping. Very cool place, lots of rocks to climb on, and amazing views of the Paint River with cliffs on the opposite side. One of those places where I smack myself on the head wondering why I’ve never been here before.               

                From there, we drove twelve miles south, back into Wisconsin, to the tiny town of Florence. We drove around that little town WAY too many times. I thought there were so many cool buildings. And even a phone booth. Do kids even know what that is anymore?

               

               We drove back into Michigan to Iron Mountain, where I took pictures of the train depot, the Dickinson County Courthouse, and the WWII Glider & Military Museum and Cornish Pump & Mining Museum, which I already knew was closed, but I still wanted to take pictures of the outside.

               

               Next was the Jake Menghini Historical Museum, outside of Norway, again for just pictures of the outside. At least, with everything closed, it turned out to be an inexpensive vacation.               

               We continued on US 2 through Vulcan, where we turned around at the Vulcan Mine, which guess what? Was also closed.               

        

           

                When we drove back through Norway, we stopped at a historical monument for the Norway Spring. In 1903, it was caused by a hole drilled by the Oliver Mining Company in their search for iron ore.

               And the Viking ship welcoming all to the city of Norway.

               

               Finally, we stopped at the Fumee Creek Roadside Park, in honor of Brenda O’Brien. I always wonder who these people were that have parks dedicated to them.

               Anyway, the waterfalls over the creek was very pretty, despite the people who were there, one in particular, a woman with a large 35 mm on a tripod who tried, kindly, to tell me where to get the best view of the falls. I wanted to say, I’ve been viewing waterfalls for 40 years, I think I got this, but thanks.              

         The main falls is easily seen from the parking lot, as well as the bridge crossing the Fumee Creek, but the best spot is up the few dozen stairs to the upper falls, which though not nearly as high, I thought, was much more delightful. Until four people joined me, at which point, I had to scamper back down the stairs.       

                 That was about the time when the sky decided it had had enough of just being gloomy and began to release its rain. As I was writing this, I was thinking I should share a screenshot from Google maps detailing our entire route. I decided, nah, let you figure it out for yourself.  

Those Beans

 “Or suppose a woman has ten silver coins and loses one. Doesn’t she light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until she finds it? And when she finds it, she calls her friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost coin.’ In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”

Luke 15:8-10 (New International Version)

When I was a kid, summers were for running wild, spending our days (and some of our nights) outdoors, climbing trees, traipsing through the woods, and sometimes through the swamp. It meant freedom. At least until the beans in my parents’ garden took over our lives. 

Then, from the end of July, until school started, it was a couple hours every day, bent over in the garden picking buckets’ full, then cutting each one into three or four bite-size pieces so Mom could blanch them and freeze them. I have a lot of happy childhood memories, and one of them is sitting in the kitchen in the evening, nearly in the dark because it was hot out and if we kept the lights off, supposedly it kept it cooler in the house. The Milwaukee Brewers would be on the radio, and as we listened to the game, we’d be cutting up all those stinkin’ green beans.

Flash-forward nearly a half-century and here I am, picking, cutting, blanching, freezing my own beans – more wax than green as I like them better. And it’s not as hot in my house; I’m too cheap to get air conditioning, but I do have more than one fan. 

Yesterday, while out in the garden, tossing those beans into an ice cream pail, I missed and one of those beans fell to the ground. One, just one, tender five-inch-long, green bean. But I had to stop what I was doing to pick it up and put it in the pail so I didn’t forget about it and lose it.

As silly a thing as it was, it still reminded me of the verse above. If I get this excited about one little bean, imagine how excited God gets over one little human soul?

Thank You, LORD, God, for loving each and every one of us, for caring about our futures, for gently placing us in Your bucket when we stray. Amen.

2020 Camping Post #1 - Overview

   A week ago, this past Monday, Hubby, Dino and I took off for our annual camping trip. If you follow this blog (or just plain follow me in real life), you know the trip didn’t turn out as hoped. I try to keep it in perspective – the worst day on vacation is better than the best day at work! But really, it is what it is.

Overall, we had a good time and made it home safe and somewhat sound.

Here’s just a quick summary of some of the places we visited from our home base for the week, Bewabic State Park, just outside of Crystal Falls, Michigan. Over the next few weeks, I’ll give you more details, along with more of the 490 pictures I took! 

The road to Horserace Rapids. Perhaps that ominous sky was foretelling how our week would go. 

 Horserace Rapids, worth the hike and the rain held off. 

 Dickinson County Courthouse in Iron Mountain

 

 Viking ship welcoming you to the city of Norway

Fumee Waterfalls

Crystal Fall Dam and Power Plant

Downtown Hancock

View of Lake Superior from where we ate lunch

Assinins Cemetery, near Baraga

Pinery Indian Cemetery, near L'Anse

Sweet Dino, just chillin' with us

More pictures and stories coming soon. 

How Can I Doubt?

“Be joyful in hope; patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.” Romans 12:12 (New International Version)

Monday morning, Hubby and I set off for camping in Michigan’s UP. It had been our first vacation in a very long time, since well before the pandemic began. I had been anticipating this trip for months, fearful that it would be canceled like the last vacation in April due to COVID19.

But, no, we pulled out of the yard around eleven Monday morning, the pickup truck loaded and our faithful popup camper rolling along behind, Dino beside himself with joy that we were going away.

We had a good time, nothing exciting or special, just a few days to relax and not stress about things. Until around 4:30 Friday morning.

I won’t go into detail. I did at least avoid a trip to the ER, thanks to the amazing people I work with at the clinic back home, who gave me a phone visit by eight am and called in some drugs to the pharmacy near where we were camped. That makes it sound so simple.

In reality, I was writhing in pain in our truck in the parking lot of the pharmacy, waiting for those prescriptions to be filled. The curse of a previous vacation – dratted kidney stone. I feel like such a wimp. I know anyone who has had a kidney stone will tell you it is the worst pain they’ve ever had. But really, Chris? Writhing in pain? Acting like a crazy person, pacing in the parking lot, squatting on the pavement, nearly throwing up (by the way, those doggy poop bags they have in dispensers at parks double as puke bags).

At one point, as I was sitting on the truck’s running board, I turned to prayer. My usual – God I know you have better things to do, but can you please make this pain go away. 

I looked down at the pavement and saw this heart-shaped pebble. Ok, God did not take away my pain, I don’t know why, that’s His decision to make, but He did let me know that He was still with me. 

God, Father, thank You for always being there for me. Amen.

That’s not the end of the story though. After several trips into the pharmacy, Hubby came out again to report that they had the prescriptions but it would take about 20 minutes for them to be ready. He asked if I wanted to ride around town. I answered sure. After he picked up some juice for me at a gas station, I directed him to pull into a church parking lot. We’d driven past that church before and I thought it was so pretty. I wanted a picture. I didn’t take a picture though. Instead, it was more pacing and squatting and dry-heaving.

Until I saw a bunch of loose pebbles on the blacktop. I scooped them up and told Hubby that I would take them home and tell people that they were my kidney stones. This all was before I even took a narcotic pain pill!

I don’t know. To me, it is proof again that God answers our every prayer, maybe not how we would like it. But He always has an answer. And if His answer is to bless me with a weird sense of humor, who am I to doubt Him.

In Need of Some Rest

   He gives strength to those who are tired and more power to those who are weak.

   Even children become tired and need to rest, and young people trip and fall.

   But the people who trust the Lord will become strong again.

They will rise up as an eagle in the sky; they will run and not need rest;

 they will walk and not become tired.

Isaiah 40:29-31 (New Century Version)

Over the last four weeks or so, I was running a marathon – a race to get my latest novel published on Amazon, in both electronic and print versions. I gave myself the deadline of July 4 to get that done. I only half succeeded; the e-book was available by the end of June, but the paper version only this past Thursday. I honestly was trusting in the Lord through this process, but I was still pretty weary. Not so much physically, but mentally.

I thought the whole process was going to go a bit more smoothly. But if you’ve been following me, you may recall that the problems ran the gamut from a laptop which suddenly became terminally ill to my brain not comprehending how to format the manuscript to be as seamless a book as it was on my computer.

It’s done though. The book is out there and I hope that I have served God well with the message the story tells.

And now it’s time for this chick to rest, to take a break.

I had the verses above in mind when I was thinking about what I wanted to write today. And wouldn’t you know? God had it figured out already once again.

Six and a half months ago, I chose the word “strength” for my word of the year. I think about it occasionally, but apparently not enough. That line above? It’s sitting right on my desk here in my office, staring at me every day. And I totally forget about it.

Lord, God, all I can say is that I am so very thankful that You are so much smarter than I am. You always have Your act together. Help me to not forget that at least. Amen.

Summer in My Yard

   I’ve had so much going on, between work and publishing my novel, that I’ve neglected sharing many pictures of the world just outside my door. It’s been a beautiful summer here in the Northwoods, and as much as I like to wander – both around the world and in my head – I need to remember to appreciate what is right here in my own backyard. 

 My doe munching on some tree leaves in the back yard. 

 My doe munching on more leaves in the front yard. 

 My doe resting in the shade in the front yard, out of the bugs that are thick in the woods.

 Woke one morning last month to this fella walking through, past the bear which inhabits my yard year-round. 

 Have even had a few turkeys visiting. 

No summer is complete without pansies. 

These flowers off my deck are more like weeds in there ability to grow and spread. 

Put in new garden beds this spring. 

Along with a new garden shed. 

All is doing well out in the garden. 

   After you’ve had a chance to also enjoy the outdoors, don’t forget to relax this summer with a good book. “The Truth Beyond the River” is now available as both an e-book and on paper. Click this link to get your copy. And don’t forget to post a review on Amazon after you’ve finished reading it.