Grief

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Sometimes the news comes quick. Sometimes the news comes slow. No matter how or when it comes, grief travels in the wake of the news. Grief is heavy, weighty, a burden, especially when it involves someone deeply loved. Grief is not meant to be carried alone. It’s too heavy and may last a while—and that’s ok. That’s what family and friends are for, to share the load. Jesus stood outside the tomb of his friend and wept but He did not weep alone. It was a deep, human moment. “ Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted ” (Matt 5:4). If anyone knows how we feel in grief, it’s Him. But His grief did not linger long, as at the mention of his name, Lazarus came forth. We are not meant to dwell in grief, but should leave room enough for it. Let it run its course. Like the song says, “ Every Storm Runs Out Of Rain .” Another song says, “ The storm We will dance as it breaks The storm It will give as it takes And all of our pain is washed away Don't cry or be afraid Some things...

On: Heat

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“They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sunlight on them, nor any heat.” (Revelation 7:16)

It had to go and get hot. This last week has been the hottest ever, and there’s not much to do when its hot and humid other than sit around in your bare bones trying to cool off. We’ve been well over 100 degrees the past few days, and that's not considering the heat index. It’s everything we can do to get the house temp down to at least 80 degrees BEFORE 6:00 a.m. in the next morning.

Here’s some hot trivia for ya:

The highest known temperature in the shade in Britain occurred on July 22, 1868, at Tonbridge in Kent when the heat reached 100.4°F. But the world record is held by Libya where a temperature of 136.4øF was recorded in 1922. According to U. S. Air Force experiments, the highest dry-air temperature that could be endured by naked men was found to be 400°F in 1960. For heavily-clothed men, the highest is 500øF. (Note that steaks require only 325øF).



The historian Herodotus tells of a people in Africa in the neighborhood of Mount Atlas whose daily custom was to curse the sun when it rises high in the heavens, because its excessive heat scorched and tormented them.

The Chicago Tribune told of the shortest sermon ever, preached by Rev. William Henry Wagner at St. Andrew’s Dune Church. He said, “If you think it’s hot here—just wait!”

Ok. One more:

An acquaintance was describing to Whistler a scene he had encountered in his travels. “There was a boatload of Egyptians,” he recounted, “floating down the Nile with the thermometer one hundred and twenty degrees in the shade, and no shade.”

“And no thermometer,” interrupted Whistler.

Have a nice day. Stay coolio.

*****

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