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Through dark and brambled trodden footsteps I wander amongst steadfast edifices of time…
-Timothy Tron
Category Archives: Uncategorized
A Walk in the Wood…
Filed under Nature, Uncategorized
Epiphany Through the Fog of Time…
The air hung heavy overhead like a cloud enveloping my mind. As I left work, I knew that I was but a whispered breath away from passing out from exhaustion, but this was my Friday, the last night’s work for the week so I would celebrate with a hot breakfast for the ride home. I had stayed longer at work that morning than was expected due to the strange feeling I had of needing to hang around and talk. When I left the building to go to my car, rain was falling in a thick mist adding to the chill of the gray morning air; sleep would come easily, but I first had to make it home safely.
By the time I had left the drive-thru with my warm breakfast in hand, the rain had subsided, but the overcast sky was dull and foreboding. To visit my favorite drive-thru meant taking the two lane road home; a dangerous option, but one that I took with the understanding my senses had to stay alert. There on the windy two-lane highway of 751 that threaded its way from one major highway to the next past farms and Jordan Lake, the scenery itself was enough to help keep your mind awake if not provide for a reminder of the seasonal world in which we live. I had just turned onto 751 when a log truck pulled out in front of me stabbing my waning energy with the likelihood of being stuck behind a slow moving vehicle. To someone who was well into the throes of sleep deprivation, getting stuck behind a slow moving object is like putting an anchor on your back and running a marathon. However, today was my lucky day, or so I thought for the truck quickly accelerated and I soon found myself losing ground to the heavy footed driver; for that I was thankful. I regained focus on the warm meal and melded with the music that was thumping along as the fields and forests passed by.
I was suddenly and quickly awakened from my trance by the red lights of the logging truck just ahead that had slowed. Not giving it much thought, I figured he or the car just ahead of him was taking a left and we’d soon be on our way; but we didn’t.
We came to a complete stop.
The rain had picked back up, and my windows were slightly fogged as was my mind. I could see the images ahead but like something unexpected when you emerge from a deep sleep, their juxtaposition and shapes don’t make sense, so they don’t register. I sat for a moment taking in the scene before me looking at dark shapes, objects blocking the road where there should be open lanes. Pools of liquid oozed from one pile of metal as fumes escaped. Nearby, the large dark object was still not making any sense. A man walked out, snapped a picture on his phone and returned from wherever he had come. It then dawned on me, the large dark object had wheels, and I was actually looking at the underneath side of a large transfer truck. Then like the slow dawn of a morning sunrise, the gravity of the situation hit me. I felt a pit in my stomach. There before me was a horrific car wreck, and from what I could see ahead of the logging truck in front of me, there was little chance the person that had been in the heap of metal still lying in the middle of the had survived. Something was odd about it all, for I didn’t see anyone walking around other than the lone photographer. I sat unthinking, feeling as sullen as the skies above. The rain pelted my window. I turned the wipers back on to see cars beginning to turn around; we weren’t going home this way anytime soon. I felt the tug of exhaustion mixed with another feeling I couldn’t describe. I knew I had to turn around and take another route if I were going to make it home this day.
As I drove off, the farther the distance between me and the accident grew, so did the realization of what I had just witnessed. Emergency vehicles began to pass me going the opposite direction on their way to the scene. Totally unaware at the time, I soon realized, I had been one of the first people to arrive. There hadn’t been anyone walking around because it had just happened. That feeling I couldn’t recall earlier returned and a sensation of crushing despair flooded my soul.
My mind flashed back to the fateful night in New Harmony when a woman drove past the DOT barricades blocking the road that was a dead end which stopped on the banks of the Wabash river overlooking a small cliff. At that time, as a kid, we looked at it like the woman was just lost and had panicked; thus, flying off the end of the road and landing in the swollen river, where she and her car load of children drowned. It wasn’t until a recent reflection upon the event that I was profoundly struck with the realization that it was more than a possibility that she meant to do what she did. This would be years before another woman in South Carolina would do the same thing and attract national attention, when she climbed to safety from the sunken car leaving her own children behind to drown.
However, like the epiphany of the past in New Harmony where the truth pierces through the fog of time, so did the conclusion I could’ve possibly helped. Yet, I was in no shape with myself being on the verge of passing out at any moment. Then another burst of realization hit me, “Had I not stayed at work as long as I did, that pile of smoldering metal could have been me.” Once again, God had placed his hand upon my life, directing me, guiding my pathway for my journey was not yet complete. I said a prayer for the person or people who might have passed, for something inside told me a soul had departed from us back there on that rainy roadway.
The grayness of the day had now become one with the emotional landscape through which I drove. My mind floated from one past event to the next knowing a moment in time can make the difference between living and dying. God gave us free will, yet when we give our lives to him, we allow his presence to define who we are and how we live. I can’t help to believe that with this faith, we also allow his heavenly hand to reach down and direct our daily paths.
That night I had a dream.
I had found a small country church, empty and abandoned. It was nothing fancy on the inside with an interior of pine paneling for walls and the typical red carpet underneath the modest wooden pews. I sat near a window and waited. Soon, as if I had expected them, there came a crowd of people dressed in what first appeared to be robes. As they drew nearer, I could see that they all had extremely pale complexions and snow white hair. Each of them wore suits of fine white linen. All but one were young men; the other being a stunningly beautiful young woman wearing a flowing white gown.. As they filed passed, I inquired to one of them as to where they were going. They told me they were going to a funeral, but they would return for me when they were finished. Something I don’t remember happened when they returned because I tried to speak in my dream, which caused me to shout out in my sleep, waking my wife who would have thrown me out of the bed if she were physically capable. I don’t remember any more of the dream past that point.
The next morning I was still somewhat bothered by not only the accident but the dream as well. So, I decided that maybe it would help my catharsis if I sketched down what I could recall; the scene in my mind that would not go away.
As I began to draw the accident from the day before, another accident scene from my childhood came to mind. I could see the bus over the fiery figure underneath. The high school boy, Scott Knapp was his name, had pulled out on his motorcycle and crashed into the bus, getting trapped underneath. The bus was moved away from the flames, but the boy and his bike remained in the fireball on the road. We all watched from across the road, unaware at the time, there was a kid in that blazing inferno. After what seemed like an eternity, Mr. McKinney came running out of the school with an army blanket and ran to the fire, throwing the blanket on an object and pulling it free; it was the badly burned body Scott. I recall how he survived for a few days but eventually the 3rd degree burns were too much to overcome, and he died. I often wondered after that day if I had known he was still in the fire if I could have or would have done anything different.
I finished the sketch and realized I had drawn the perspective of standing in front of the logging truck that had blocked my view. I figured it was just my imagination, and left it at that. Days later, I spoke to another coworker about that morning, and we found the crash online. Just as I had feared, there had been a fatality. Mr. Harold Sugg of Pittsboro had died at the scene. Then, along with the description of the accident was the photograph. There in the 
news photo was a picture exactly the same angle and direction from my drawing, the one I had done from memory.
I don’t know what all of this means, I don’t know what God is trying to say, but all I know is that I’m thankful to have had another day to hug my children and breathe a breath of fresh glorious air on this side of the green grass.
May your journey’s be fruitful and your travels safe, God Bless.
Filed under Inspirational, Religious Experience, Uncategorized
Sling Blade of Life
10 Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. 11 Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. 12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. 13 Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. 14 Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, 15 and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. 16 In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. 17 Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. – Ephesians 6:10-17
Today, we finally spent some much needed time at home. There is so much to catch up on here on the farm having spent most of the summer on the road or away from home. One of the first things that was past due was clearing some of the fence rows. I know there is more than I could do in a day, so we started with the one closest to the house. Knowing that most of my 2-cycle engine tools are in need of a small engine mechanic, I forewent the option of using a motorized blade for the good old fashioned “Sling Blade”. For those of you unfamiliar with a “Sling Blade”, it consists of a straight axe handle connected on one end to a blade that is about six inches in width and two feet in length. The blade is straight for about a foot, then curves in an arc at the end, providing a slicing side and a hook side. When sharpened and handled properly, one swing of this ominous tool can slice through a wrist size sapling in one fell swoop.
Back when we first bought the land that our farm now sits on, I cleared much of the tract from the home site to the pond with the Sling Blade, a stretch of about three hundred yards long and a hundred yards wide. Needless to say, I became very proficient with this weapon. Today, as I slung my blade at the weeds and thick brush that had grown up over a very abundant summer of rain, I found my technique still intact but the muscles that were needed to maintain this level of efficiency had long ago vanished. Nearing the end of the fence row we were working, I had to rest more and more until it was apparent, this would be all I could do for the day. Thankfully, I had two very useful helpers on hand, my son and daughter, each helping to carry the debris to the burn pile we were building. Back in the day, I use to haul all my own brush after cutting it. Today, I would have accomplished much less had I not had them with me. As time marches on, what we give up in strength and ability, we sometimes accumulate in blessings like children who eventually make up the difference in what we once were and who we are now.
As we travel around the country spreading our faith and gospel, we tell the story and words of Jesus through
song and the written word hoping to reach those who need to hear this story or be reminded of their walk with faith. As we grow in our faith, we hope the path we have chosen helps our children to see how they too can become stronger and greater in their faith. As with each swing of the Sling Blade, the body becomes stronger and more proficient; thus it is with the Word, each time it is visited or spoken, we also become stronger and more proficient at telling others. As with time, we eventually leave our children’s side and allow them to discover life on their own, whether it is in school or out in community. When they are away, we can rest in knowing that we have laid the foundation for them to build upon. However, when we hear of them coming home from someplace we had thought to have been a safe haven having experienced an influence we might have considered very undesirable, we have to sit up and take notice. The fact that they report to us, their parents, of this event having felt uncomfortable, for example, hearing the teacher’s poor choice of educational experience, we in some degree take comfort knowing we have in part done our job. We have given them the tool to use in life to understand what is acceptable in our beliefs and what is not. They have slung their blade and felt it hit its mark. Yet, as much as we try to witness to others and evangelize the Word of God, it brings me sadness to know that behind our backs, the ones we thought to be on our side, have been influenced by either the media or through other avenues to the point, the felt the educational tool they chose to show was okay in their opinion. In this manner, it tells me we have so far to go in what we do in order to spread Christianity.
Christians are under attack every day, not only from the world, but even from those within our own circles who have apparently been misguided by whatever influences. We cannot afford to stand still and assume every person who claims to be a Christian is fully understanding of the Word and has truly accepted Christ; it is these people whom can be as dangerous as the one who are out to end your faith or even worse, your life. Satan doesn’t stop at the door, if allowed, he will come on in and make himself at home, waiting for any opportunity to enter into your life and bring you down.
As time goes by, what we begin to lose, we must replace with those whom will someday take our place; our children. We cannot simply assume that they will learn to swing their blades of righteousness on their own but rather we must show them, teach them and pass along what it is to fulfill the path that God has given us through his only son, Jesus Christ, so that we may be forgiven for our sins, and be saved through his Grace, for it is by this Grace alone that we will get to Heaven and it is by Grace that we must live our lives.
Do you have a fence row in your life to clear and will you get your children to help?
Tomorrow is a new day, don’t let it pass without giving someone the opportunity to hear the Word of God and to know life eternal; it is our job.
Sling that blade.
Filed under Farming, Inspirational, Religion, Uncategorized
Tronism…
Before you can walk a mile in someone else’s shoes, You first have to put them on….-T.Tron
Filed under Uncategorized
A Flightful Vision…
My first memory of thought was the climatic change.
I could feel the coolness on the back of my neck go from a dry, high altitude feeling to that of a humid-moist climate; 
yet the temperature remained the same. What I saw before me was a loading ramp, reaching out to a dock, upon which the boat we were on had just docked. The boat itself was an old sailing ship with dark timbers for a hull. I was in the middle of a pack of mules, large Percheron types with blonde colored bodies and dark manes. We rode out of the hold of the ship in a thundering stampede, immediately reaching the outskirts of the city in which we had made port. As we ran west, the sunrise was to our backs, ahead the mist of the rising morning dew. There were others riding in our cavalcade but I could not see them; I could only sense that they were riding behind me. As we passed through the countryside, there were fields of pastures on both sides of the road, lined with fences and separated by occasional rows of trees. The road we ran upon was not paved but packed dirt; an ancient thoroughfare worn smooth from countless hoof prints.
The farther we ran into the landscape the more the mules became horse-like, until they eventually turned into a graceful herd of horses, all thoroughbreds. I was still riding the same animal I began with, the wind blasting past me as we now increased speed as the agility of the animal was became altered. The farther we ran; the closer the fencerows came toward us until the wide open road became a lane. Ahead of me was a wide open pasture that had large towering trees on its backside, up a tall hill. There, sitting on the edge of the pasture, just inside the trees was an old home; weathered and gray.
The roar of hooves shook the ground as we left the lane and ran across the tall green grasses of the pasture toward the 
house, up the field of swaying green grass to the dark tree line ahead.
Darkness began to fall as twilight began to ebb.
I suddenly began to get concerned for our safety for fear the horses would not slow down and we would be torn to shreds as the panic stricken animals would race through the forest, maiming themselves and us in the process. I looked around and still could not see anyone, but continued to feel as if there were others following. Ahead of me was only rider-less horses, running in unison, their manes flowing in billowing wave behind as they flew across the solemn ground.
I reached down to my horse’s side, touching its shoulder and felt the fear within. My thoughts of calmness sought to speak to the animal as it continued its mad gallop toward the old homestead that was fast approaching. I searched deep within the beast until I was able to grab its attention, speaking to it letting it know there was no need to flee. The calming affect began to ripple like waves from my mount to the other surrounding horses who too now began to slow their pace. The tension from the moment began to release from their nearly expired muscles until they all began to walk cautiously into the dark woods, up the hill, past the old house.
As we passed by the old homestead I could see there was nobody there; the windows long ago knocked out, doors missing. The roof was still intact, yet there was no life still inhabiting the home. There was a whinny of a horse nearby I turned to see, but then when I turned back toward the house, it was alive and well with lamplights lit, glowing an amber light into the ebony night beyond; inside were people still making it their home. Confused, I blinked and tried to refocus, but we were now beginning to get far enough into the woods that the trees would block my view off and on; each time the house would change from alive to dead.
Then I noticed the riders coming behind; then ones I had sensed all along. They carried torches and were moving in a
very determined manner. The horsemen carried swords at their sides. Those without torches had already drawn their sabers and rode with them raised high, ready to attack. Shadows covered their faces, but their bodies spoke anger as their horses, lathered and tired from the chase, ran with weary hooves, I realized we were in danger and called to the others to run once again; for now I understood the initial flight. I jumped free of my mount and slapped its flank, encouraging it to join the others as they all raced off into the distance, up the mountain and out of sight, beyond the forest in which I now stood. Into the darkness I dove, seeking shelter from the oncoming horde of evil that advanced up the hillside below.
Then nothing…
Quiet stillness…
A glimpse of hiding and the fear of being found as heavy footsteps drew near…
Then I awoke.
Filed under Pure Fiction, Uncategorized, Visions
“Unspoken” – poem
Filed under Inspirational, Poetry, Uncategorized
WKXV interview in Knoxville, TN.
Filed under Uncategorized
Book Signing Today, B&N in High Point NC. Saturday, May 25th, 1:00 – 3:00 PM
Come join us today at the Barnes & Noble Booksellers in High Point North Carolina. We will have live music with Emily Schilling on Lap Dulcimer and the Tron Family Band performing along with signed copies of my book, “Bruecke to Heaven“.
Be one of the first seven customers and get a free loaf of “Faith Bread”, which has a special gift inside that keeps on giving.
Join us and become one with the journey; Let the Light Shine in the Darkness.
Filed under Music, Uncategorized, Writing
With Great Expectations?…Or Do You Sit and Wait?
It is a beautiful early spring day here in North Carolina.I sit here in B&N waiting on the manager who is in charge of handling purchasing in anticipation that my publisher and their distributor have worked out the glitch that has prevented my book from already being on the shelves here at Barnes and Noble. As I sit here sipping on my Blonde House Coffee from Starbucks, I can’t help think about the similarties of my expectation of this event and that of the earth which I had just plowed up in the garden last Saturday.
Like the preparation of the earth, I have already called numerous times to the Publisher preparing the event ahead of time, finding out that we had a problem with the distributor keying in the status of my book incorrectly, which has ultimately cost me at least five months of potential sales “In Store”. Granted this is all an assumed potential sell, it is like the garden. We prepare the earth, plant the seed and then wait for the results with much anticipation. As the years go by, we know the early signs of success, the new leaf sprout, the soil cracking as the plant pushes through, all in the pursuit of reaching the sunshine above, that is the life source of the plant.
However, unlike the garden, this is a fairly new endeavor, so I am naive to the early signs. I have not received my return call from the publisher acknowledging the problem has been resolved; rather, I have left unanswered voicemails and emails. I am not seeing the soil bursting forth.
So, today, I sit and wait.
I had just spent the night before at work and then a subsequent book signing at work starting late this past morning. Instead of trying to go home and then drive back, I just slept in the parking lot. Yes, I literally slept in my vehicle. I was much more refreshed and alert for the book signing considering I had not driven the hour commute, one way. Although I had a couple hours “Real” sleep, I know I am on borrowed time. It will be a matter of mintues before the exhaustion begins to creep in and I find myself fighting to remain awake.
So I sit and wait.
Outside, the trees prepare their blossoms on branches whose tips are engorged with the rush of new sap. The various basketball tournaments are in full swing, with excited fans going to and fro heading to their favorite location to watch their team compete. So much excitement, so much anticipation fills the air.
So I sit and wait.
Like the earth, like the book store, like those teams who’ve yet to play, we all wait on the hopes that what we wait on is worth the time we “Sit and Wait”. Yet, as I write this, I realize I’m not just “Sitting” while I wait. How much like life do we parallel our idle time? Do we idly sit and wait our eternal home or do we actively work to tell the story, share the Word or prepare others for life everlasting?
Yes, I might be sitting, but the wait is far from over.
“My soul, wait silently for God alone, For my expectation is from Him.” – Psalm 62:5
Filed under Farming, Inspirational, Nature, Uncategorized
Kirkus Indie Review of “Bruecke to Heaven”
TITLE INFORMATION
BRUECKE TO HEAVEN
Children of the Light
Tron, Timothy W.
Westbow Press (344 pp.)
$39.95 hardcover, $19.95 paperback, $7.99 e-book
ISBN: 978-1449756581; September 4, 2012
BOOK REVIEW
A historical novel about the spread of Christianity leading up to the Reformation.
The author builds an accessible, intriguing narrative—using the often complicated verses of the New Testament—that chronicles the beginning of the spread of Christianity. Tron’s version presupposes that Jesus chose not 12 disciples, as commonly referenced, but six times that, and he “empowered them with the same abilities and gifts as the original twelve.” Set in the mountains in what is now Western Europe, the tale follows a group of disciples led by protagonists Arktos, Jean Paul and Jakob as they seek their comrades, men that they meet along the way who may have no idea that they have been chosen by Jesus to help spread the religion and “to return to Lyon…to begin the transcription of the Bible into written format for its distribution to the common man.” These disciples, not unlike the parallel search in Buddhism for reincarnated leaders, are identified by intangible but recognizable signs: They shine forth an inner light, command tremendous strength of spirit and can recite verses from the Bible on command. Their path is filled with violence and swords, whether drawn or at rest. Dark scenes of warfare, blood and capital punishment contrast with luminous religious scenes, e.g., “As darkness grew across the land, the light would continue to shine in the darkness.” Tron also builds tension and interest through dynamic dialogue and colorful description: “There would be no sun today. A thick, overcast sky blanketed the upper peaks of the surrounding mountains enclosing the Vaudois below.”
An artful, dramatic download of biblical events that inspire faith and a deeper understanding of the history of Christianity.
Kirkus Indie, Kirkus Media LLC, 6411 Burleson Rd., Austin, TX 78744
Filed under Uncategorized