I remember my first fishing pole well. It was just like my second, third, and fourth – a sturdy sapling about 5 feet long that had just a bit of spring to it. We lived along the river bank all summer long when I was a boy. Mom and Dad had real fishing gear but we kids had to make do with our sapling fishing poles.
I do not usually get very excited about the mail. On any given day, peeking into our mailbox will provide you with nothing more than the standard fare of bills, junk and during the Summer months a small spider or two. On occassion though, there might possibly be a package or a surprise.
We live in an ever changing world, and the rate of change today is accelerating at breakneck speed because of the technological age in which we live. Just 200 years ago, when our nation was still young, most people spent their entire lives in one small community, seldom traveling more than a hundred miles from the place where they were born.
My granddaughter, Annika, left a little plastic horse on the table at my house the other day and I was fascinated by the detail on that little toy.
ril is National Volunteer Appreciation Month. This got me to thinking about the first time I served as a volunteer. I grew up on country back roads and, as a poor family, we were more likely to be the recipients of the volunteer kindness of others than to volunteer helping others.
Baseball season is now upon us and even though I am not a baseball fan, I can appreciate a good baseball joke.
Life is about relationships. From infancy through our formative years our relationships fell into two basic categories, parent-to-child and child-to-child.
My parents were children during the “Great Depression” and they often told stories of how their families endured the hardships of that era.
“Hi all from Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. Greetings in the name of Jesus who saves us all, including the many believers in this beautiful country.