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Showing posts from January, 2013

The God Itch. . .

One night a few years ago, I was laying in bed having trouble sleeping. At a time in my life, in my depression times, that used to be a chronic problem of mine, but anymore there is generally a reason if I cannot sleep. I tried laying in bed and praying, then I got up on my knees but that wasn't enough. I began to understand, it was like an itch that needed scratching. That's the only way I can describe it. It's a very strong urge in a particular direction. I was supposed to get up, get dressed and pray. I've felt this way a couple of times in the past, so that's what I did. I thought I'd take Luke (my St. Bernard) with me, so just at the stroke of midnight we left the house and started walking around the little subdivision where Jackie and I live. It was a very nice summer evening with a warm and silky soft breeze and a lovely moon. We made a couple of loops around the neighborhood. I really didn't know what to expect. I knew something would ha

Let There Be Photons. . .

Genesis 1:1-5 In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. (2) And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. (3) And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. (4) And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness. (5) And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day. In the ETV (The engineers translation version) of the Bible, in verse 3. . . and God said let there be photons, and there was light. . . Four little words. . . ‘let there be light’, yet it would take a thousand textbooks to come close to fully describing what happened with those words. The universe was filled with light. . . and heat. . . and energy. . . ‘LET THERE BE LIGHT’, and the universe came alive. Photons are the smallest very tiny units which carry light, but they are much more than th

Choose. Hope. . . Choose Life. . . Seek God. . .

I had my tonsils removed when I was 20 years old. I had recurring sore throats, and I asked my doctor to remove my tonsils and he arranged it. My room at Elkhart General Hospital was in a very old section of the hospital, and I was in a four man ward. My bed in this small room, was on the left by the door as you entered. On the right by the door, was an old gentleman who was completely insensi ble due to some kind of dementia. I remember the night after my surgery having to go to the nurses station, because in some kind of dream or delirium he was ripping out his IV lines and doing himself damage. On the right at the far end of the room by the room’s windows, was an elderly Amish gentleman with a long white beard. I’m assuming he was hard of hearing and had had prostate surgery, for I remember his doctor visiting him and speaking in a booming voice told him, “Well Zeke (cannot remember his real name, but I vividly remember these words), now you should be able to drill a hole in a six f