Friday, December 20, 2013

The Gift

Posted by Ian on 6:55 PM
1
For the Christian all of life is a gift from God. Like a present wrapped under the tree. The pleasures of this world are at best the wrapping and the bow. Affliction will come, but this too is a gift. Like an anxious child on Christmas morning, suffering rips away the wrapping. Beside the pile of torn paper and discarded bows we open the lid and find our true treasure…Jes...

Saturday, December 14, 2013

The New Story

Posted by Ian on 1:12 PM
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Those that know me know that I do not have the most praise worthy past. In grade school my teachers were at a loss on how to deal with this unruly child. My high school years were nonexistent (save one) because I had better things to do. My teenage years were spent chasing the next high and running from the five-oh as I would have called them. When I was twenty and near death or prison (whichever...

The Reformer

Posted by Ian on 1:11 PM
0
A Reformer is one who sees a wall blocking out the sun. He puts his shoulder down and charges against it, over and over again. More often than not what is left is a bruised and bloodied corpse at the base of that wall. Some of the people watching the man’s efforts see them as futile. Others see in the man a fanatic, a life not to be mimicked. But a few draw inspiration from him and lower their own...

A place called The Skull

Posted by Ian on 1:10 PM
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“And when they came to the place that is called The Skull, there they crucified him, and the criminals, one on his right and one on his left.” Luke 23:33, ESV. I watched my mom deteriorate for many years and ultimately I watched her die. She was 60 when she died and she had lived a very hard life.    As I suspect many feel after losing a parent, I regret not having asked her more about...

My Father's son.

Posted by Ian on 1:09 PM
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I was four years old when my father left. I did not see him again until I was eight when I flew to Houston TX for a visit. I have very few memories of that trip, but one memory has stuck with me all these years. After a very awkward meeting at the airport my father asked me if I was hungry and where I'd like to eat. As an eight year old there was really only one answer to that question...McDonalds....

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