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More Journal Art
Not moving as fast as I once was. Been fighting off some kind of crud. Not much energy left at the end of a day except to get home, eat, fall down and not get up again until the next morning. Can’t stay awake long enough to read much less write. Hope it passes soon. Until next time, here’s more journal Art.
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“Men and women who saw God in the Bible: Why did they not all die?”
July 2004 I went to Kenya, Africa to speak in two Pastor’s Conferences on the subject of Man, Sin and Salvation. At the end of each day I left just over an hour for questions (half the time were questions touching the subject of my lectures, and the other half for “open questions”; that is, people could ask anything). For the next few weeks, I will be sharing the questions that were asked of me, and my answers—and believe me when I say these people really know how to think! Question from Kenya #1: “Men and women who saw God in the Bible: Why did they not all die?” [“ But He said, ‘You cannot see My face, for no man can see Me and live! ’” (Exodus 33:20) was the basis of the student’s question]. Answer: First, consider those who did see God—how did they respond when they saw Him? They were instantly aware of their sinfulness, and God’s holiness and righteousness (to name a few. And notice also that each responded in an attitude of worship, bowing down): Abraham built altars, wors
A Sonnet
“My God, where is that ancient heat towards thee, Wherewith whole shoals of martyrs once did burn, Besides their other flames? Doth poetry Wear Venus' livery? only serve her turn? Why are not sonnets made of thee? and lays Upon thine altar burnt? Cannot thy love Heighten a spirit to sound out thy praise As well as any she? Cannot thy Dove Outstrip their Cupid easily in flight? Or, since thy ways are deep, and still the fame, Will not a verse run smooth that bears thy name! Why doth that fire, which by thy power and might Each breast does feel, no braver fuel choose Than that, which one day, worms may chance refuse. Sure Lord, there is enough in thee to dry Oceans of ink; for, as the Deluge did Cover the earth, so doth thy Majesty: Each cloud distills thy praise, and doth forbid Poets to turn it to another use. Roses and lilies speak thee; and to make A pair of cheeks of them, is thy abuse Why should I women's eyes for crystal take? Such poor invention burns in their low mind Wh
Welcome, May!
The past few weeks have been stressful. Training new employees, dealing with difficult customers, not sleeping well, not exercising (I’ve gained 20 pounds in the last two years), getting through family drama (two life-threatening events in the same day, 2000 miles apart: my dad’s heart attack in NM and a 9 year grandchild starting the rest of his life with Type 1 Diabetes) . . . My CrossFit lifestyle withered into oblivion when I lost my job at the University in 2020, as Covid got going. Deep depression brought me to a standstill as I took a few months to try to reset. Since then, my physical status has been on steady decline. Now my daily schedule looks something like this: Work 3-11 pm (on a good day), Go to bed at 4 am, get up between 10:30 am and noon, get booted up and go back to work. If I get one day off a week I’m fortunate. At least I don’t have to work all night for now. That was the worst. So I haven’t had time or energy to do much, even read, much less write. And since my