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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

indie@kirkusreviews.com

“Will you have to get down on your knees because I stepped on your toes?”  – T. Tron

It was interesting that last week’s lectionary was on how we have a hard time with “Believing” and how difficult it was for those in Jesus’ hometown to believe he was the Son of God. Even after he had performed countless miracles, healings and teachings, it was still beyond belief for some to accept who he was and what he was about. Today’s lectionary speaks to us from the other side of “Belief”; a belief so strong that it aroused special attention.

Long before Jesus’ time, there was one who was considered to be the “Most” faithful believer in God, Job. Job was so faithful, God gave him special favor. This, of course, did not sit well with everyone, especially with one being in particular, Satan. So when Satan talked God into allowing him to challenge Job’s faith, it became clear God was watching and waiting to see how his most faithful servant would respond. But beyond that, it was obvious God did want Job to know he considered him a special customer, so to speak.

Job 38:1-7

New King James Version (NKJV)

38 Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind, and said:

² “Who is this who darkens counsel By words without knowledge? ³ Now prepare yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer Me.

⁴ “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? Tell Me, if you have understanding. ⁵ Who determined its measurements? Surely you know! Or who stretched the line upon it? ⁶ To what were its foundations fastened? Or who laid its cornerstone, ⁷ When the morning stars sang together, And all the sons of God shouted for joy?

One could look at this passage a several ways. From one viewpoint, it could be a type of CSAT (Customer Satisfaction). What I mean is, we see how God sat Job down, appearing to him in a whirlwind and made him take a mental survey of all that he (God) had done for him. CSAT is a form of customer service. Customer service is what keeps you coming back and in some cases, it is this customer service and advertising that makes you sing either the jingles to their adds, or in other cases…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=8OwZGmYV-1I

You might have at one time or another gone to a fast food restaurant and received one of their receipts which contained a free sandwich upon completion of their online survey. Granted I’d love to get the God-in-a-whirlwind survey instead, but hey, the consolation is you at least get a free sandwich. Well, recently I received one of these special receipts when visiting a Chik-Fil-A. What you wind up doing upon filling out this survey is taking a mental review of all the actual benefits and great customer service of their restaurant. Then, before you are done, you are asked to provide feedback as to what you might like to see or not see on your next visit.

Now, here was God himself, being one-on-one with Job, and presenting to him all that he had done on earth, for the good of all mankind. The difference in this survey was that it was live, a Godly-whirlwind, not something remote and removed, like the online survey. Talk about customer service.  I guess you could say this in itself was a testament to Job’s faithfulness to God, the fact that he alone was being spoken too directly from Lord Father himself.

Then again, this could also be viewed as God showing off to Job. Not only to show him his omnipotent power, but to partly console him for what he was going through for the sake of his belief and trust. It is like saying, “Hey, don’t think that I can’t take care of what I started here. How can you not have faith in me when I have done all this?” Then again, from another viewpoint, you could say that God so loved Job and his commitment, he was willing to comfort him with knowledge little considered by others, or even divulged to others, thus was his confidence and faith in his most faithful servant.

Talk about customer satisfaction.

How many companies do you know that go out of their way to make their customer’s feel special?

Those companies are usually the ones you read about being highly successful; Fortune 500. But does this extra effort to return thanks to your customer base come for free: …of course not. However, the intrinsic value it returns magnifies the original investment many times over; it goes beyond that, it can sometimes become a belief, a movement in itself. Just reflect back to the recent events surrounding Chik-Fil-A and their president, Dan Cathy. With his Christian beliefs as his guidepost, Mr. Cathy simply stated, “I pray God’s mercy on our generation that has such a prideful, arrogant attitude to think that we have the audacity to define what marriage is about.”. He simply stated how he felt about making laws out of something most Christians should already know, and how he believed a law was unnecessary if we truly held to our Christian beliefs.

The firestorm quickly became a movement that resulted in bringing out both sides of the controversy. Now let’s not be mistaken, I love going to Chik-Fil-A as much as the next person, and what better excuse to go than for a cause: Chik-Fil-A day Aug. 1 2012.  Hey, you got to eat and support something….how awesome was that!!! Yet, even though initially it all sounded good, there were those who instantly thought of the negativity of it all.  You see, it was never meant to be something that was negative, yet its statement, of pure faith, became a rallying cry for those wanting a rallying cry.

Personally, I believe Christians are more than ready to become a movement, we just need the cause…and today, there are plenty to go around; …too many in fact.

Yet, how much are we willing to invest in a cause, a mission, a journey?

Yes, that was one of the criticisms of the recent Chik-Fil-A day, the fact that we Americans are only capable of committing to something we can do in our lunch hour. Think about it, how many of you here today have committed to something more than is slightly above a brief respite in time, something that you could fit into your busy schedule, and still be able to make the tee time or birthday party, lest you be inconvenienced? Hopefully the drive through is open and I won’t have to wait on the food!

However, mankind is capable of rallying for a just cause. Look back to the crusades. Or just reflect back on the year 1170 AD and you can find a rallying cry; a mission taken on by a people who it was thought were incapable of such a deed, yet with faith, they did the impossible.

I must take you back to a people that received the word of God directly from the disciples themselves. It was so important to them that they felt compelled to memorize this word and pass it down from one generation to the next.  Now I don’t know about you but when I learn something to the point it becomes second nature, there becomes a special connection, an ability that allows you to do more with that information. I believe in my heart and soul that if we were to memorize a few books of the Bible or even more impossible, the entire Bible, that we would come away changed, if not capable of performing acts you had previously believed implausible; to the faithful all things are possible. And when these keepers of the faith were attacked for their beliefs, they became united in their defense to a point beyond human imagination:

A brief excerpt from “Bruecke to Heaven” to illustrate what happens when your faith leads you to a point of ultimate sacrifice, defending their cause:

The elders raced to reach their armed protectors to try to dissuade them before they became martyred as a result of a seemingly fruitless action in the face of the overwhelming odds they could see quickly approaching. Their aged bodies could not cover the ground as quickly as they once could. Living at these high mountain elevations tended to keep the body in a physical shape that would maintain youthful vigor well beyond the normal aging years, but still, age always won and would take its toll. As the elders ran, they soon realized there was no way they could reach their warriors in time to stop them from rushing into the mouth of the serpent that now slithered up the narrowing passage, inching ever closer to their homes and families.

Realizing the inevitability of the situation, they began marching together as well as they could, considering the terrain, and began chanting Scripture as they marched. With only the Word of God as their weapon, down the mountain they came.

Up the mountain evil surged, with the spirit of youth the only thing between the two titans of faith. These youths had yet to live to become the future generations of what had been so long passed on. They appeared to be facing a totally brutal massacre, wasted lives, and unforgiven sins unless something miraculous transpired on this day of the beginning of the end.

Only something miraculous could save them now.

Heimat Museum, Walldorf Germany

In 1998 when I walked into the Heimat Museum in Walldorf Germany, I fully expected to find out how “German” I actually was. Little did I or anyone else in my family from Posey county USA, know the ancestral roots I was about to realize. Even after I was told, in both German and English, what the full extent of my heritage actually was, it took a lot of time to sink in; several years in fact. It became a slow dawning awareness of the “who”, the how and finally the why, that began to overtake my preconceived perception. But then the “why” began to become more important, day-by-day, until it led me to the simple truth. Why anyone would commit not only their life, but generations of lives to something so vivid, so true, so foundational that nothing else mattered: to believe in God and all that his Son stood for.

When Jesus spoke to his disciples telling them to be first you had to be last and to gain your life in Heaven you had to lose it first, the Waldensians took this to heart more than anyone could know or realize, even today.

Mark 10:35-45

New King James Version (NKJV)

³⁵ Then James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came to Him, saying, “Teacher, we want You to do for us whatever we ask.”

³⁶ And He said to them, “What do you want Me to do for you?”

³⁷ They said to Him, “Grant us that we may sit, one on Your right hand and the other on Your left, in Your glory.”

³⁸ But Jesus said to them, “You do not know what you ask. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, and be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?”

³⁹ They said to Him, “We are able.”

So Jesus said to them, “You will indeed drink the cup that I drink, and with the baptism I am baptized with you will be baptized; ⁴⁰ but to sit on My right hand and on My left is not Mine to give, but it is for those for whom it is prepared.”

⁴¹ And when the ten heard it, they began to be greatly displeased with James and John. ⁴² But Jesus called them to Himself and said to them, “You know that those who are considered rulers over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. ⁴³ Yet it shall not be so among you; but whoever desires to become great among you shall be your servant. ⁴⁴ And whoever of you desires to be first shall be slave of all. ⁴⁵ For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many.”

These principles were something that had all but been lost around the turn of the first millennium when the peoples in the remote Cottien region of the Alps became a highly sought out commodity. It seems that for a common man to possess the Word of God was something of an aberration, and appalling prospect that scared the powers that be to death, the Holy Roman Catholic Church. The Papacy had gained control of mankind through a series of events which soon allowed the church to usurp the power for of the surrounding kingdoms; placing the terrestrial wealth and muscle now solely in the grasp of the Papacy, the seat of the Holy Roman Empire, became the Roman Catholic Church.

Yet these people, who erroneously became known as Waldensian, served God with the ultimate dedication putting themselves last. How much greater service to the Lord can you give than to sacrifice your life for him, as did his only Son.  But if not to sacrifice your life then rather, sacrifice all; to fully rely upon his judgment and guidance for what lay ahead and with this ability to believe, step forward into the unknown, basing everything you own, everything that allows you to exist upon this faith.

“To walk a mile in someone else’s shoes, you must first put them on…” – T. Tron

How many of us are ready for that commitment; which takes us back to us Americans and our limited time constraints.

Now don’t get me wrong, there are some of us that have committed ourselves to causes or missions that are honorable and memorable. Those few of us that have done so have come to realize the importance of the scripture of Mark. However, some of us have taken that step, that leap of faith and come back from a mission trip or activity and suddenly realized the staggering breadth of the need and how our effort was just a little drop in the ocean of despair; panicking to the useless feeling we are left with in the void of thoughtful action. Or, in the opposite case, as with my book, we are left with the staggering hill to climb as we invest in a staggering number of books and nowhere to distribute them (yes, McIntyre Books in Fearrington won’t sell them, Pittsboro Library won’t allow me to read it there). But yet, I continue to believe, to have faith, for I know He told me to make it happen and I did…I’m just trying to find his will as to continue on.  So from the daunting depths of overwhelming need to the improbable task of spreading the word through a written message, we must recognize the survey or lecture God is giving to Job and why he was lifting him up while also showing him what is possible, when faith is the motivation.

When I began to prepare for today’s sermon, I asked Thomas if I should use the lectionary or do something on my own. He said either way would be fine. Curiously, I chose the lectionary.  When I read about Job and the lecture God was giving him, it didn’t immediately become apparent to me that this was exactly where I was; like Job. I had started a mission, writing a book unlike any other and when I took that gigantic leap of faith, spending lots of money on self-publishing, I felt led. Before taking this leap of faith I prayed unceasingly, asking God how I should proceed. When the time came to make the decision, I placed it all in his hands. However, like Job, since that time I have begun to have doubts and questioning my faith. Here again, God sits Job down and explains to him all that He (God) is over and what He is capable of, not to fear; ….and yet we still do!

We must not!

Is it your mission, or is it your lunch hour? Do you believe or don’t you? How strong is your faith?

Is it your lunch hour or is it your mission?

Then I have to ask, “What if anything I’ve said today will affect your walk with Christ this coming week?” Will you use the something of today to witness to someone this coming week; perhaps the video, perhaps the idea of a mission vs. a lunch hour, or possibly using this book (Bruecke) to lead someone to this book (Bible)? How will you take our short time together today and use it to God’s glory this next week.

Is it just your lunch hour, or will it become your mission.

All we have to do is have faith the size of a mustard seed and the Lord will provide!

We must keep God’s dedication to us in focus, for us to carry on in seemingly insurmountable odds, we must keep the faith…and keep believing; Jesus Christ, God’s only son, who gave his all for us so that we may come to know him, and through him be saved.

Again I ask, “Is it just your lunch hour, or is it your mission?”

Lux Lucet In Tenebris

The Light in the Darkness

Thanks be to God.

The Frailty of Existence…..

After having worked nights for the better part of the last twelve years, I have found coming home in the morning many times more gratifying than most people would or could ever understand. If you have or do work third shift, you will completely understand what I am about to say. And before you even ask, the answer is yes, when I’m tired I try to stop before I go too far, too far as in having an accident or close call.

Oh, there have been the many close calls. More than once I’ve looked up to find a semi-tractor trailer coming at me head-on, only to have me swerve back into my own lane, now wide awake; glad to step foot across the threshold of home, alive once more. I often too clearly can imagine the pain it might feel like to become one with the heat and metal of machine as the impact collides us together  with such force there would be nothing left to identify. I fear that it might be a family in the other lane, and I then shake myself alert, growing angry at myself over my eagerness to continue and my selfish hesitation not to stop.

Not every morning was totally overwhelmed by the lack of sleep. I’ve seen beautiful sunrises, some that were so awe inspiring they couldn’t be imagined. Those are the ones that if you painted them as they looked, nobody would believe they were real. I’ve seen wildlife of all kinds. I once saw a bear run across the road. On that particular morning I was fighting fatigue so severely that I was on the phone literally having someone talk me home, something we do in dire circumstances. I was so mentally exhausted that when I reached the point in the road where the bear had crossed I jumped out and began to see if I could confirm it was a bear by following it into the woods. Thankfully the person on the other end of the phone had more presence of mind and began yelling at me to get back into the car.

There were other times, when I would nearly drift off the road where there would be little recovery if any from diving headlong into the lake or endless ravine below, only to swerve back, barely recovering in time, again wide awake. On more than one occasion, I’ve been driving down a long stretch of road, tree-lined usually on both sides, and suddenly come to the realization I have no idea where I am. I would be so tired, that I was losing the ability to process reality and at that point that I would have to wait for a landmark to remind me if I were going to work or coming home. There was the time I over corrected from running off the side of the pavement, just barely, but it was enough to start the car spinning. I vividly recalled going backwards in the oncoming lane thinking to myself, “The Lord is control now, because I’m certainly not.” After several spins I wound up in the ditch on the opposite side of the road, facing the oncoming traffic. However, on this particular morning, there wasn’t a car or truck in sight. It was just me in my little blue car. Yes, I was shaken, but other than the loss of a tailpipe, I was very blessed to have not had a more serious incident.

Those mornings, the ones with close calls, I would have extra special hugs for the little ones that might awaken, sleepy-eyed from their precious night’s slumber totally unaware of the fate their father had almost met just minutes before. All these years, when sleep was fighting to shut me down, it was the thought of making it home once more to hear those little squeals of joy ring in my ears, welcoming their daddy home that kept me going. Those times, when they were just getting their little legs, learning to run for the first time, hitting the front door running when they knew daddy was coming home, was the ultimate reward for living. Even after all these years, now that they are older and reaching their teens, I still get the sense of joy and new awakenings when they meet me at the door, now more subdued, but still able to rejuvenate that feeling of worth and being.

I can only imagine that someday when we make it to the promised land, the same feeling of having those loved ones meet us at the Heavenly gates, arms open wide, unassuming, unconditional love, wrapping us in their warm embrace with the greatest reception we will ever know. It will be like those mornings when the tiny arms hugged your neck, with an energy that lifted your soul and washed away the weariness from having worked for days with little or no sleep, until you felt refreshed and anew with the spirit.

It is then we will finally be home, …one last time, when our Heavenly Father will lift us up, once more as we ourselves become the little children, wrapping our arms around God, embracing him in his eternal love.

It is said in the Bible that all things will be made anew and not a tear will be shed on the other side of Glory.

Yet, for me, I know there will be at least one …one tear…tears of joy.

 

My art teacher from grade school back in the little town of Paradise Indiana, Mrs. Rita Bradshaw, once told me that, “Drawing trees was a lot like drawing people.” Looking back, Mrs. Bradshaw was one of the biggest influences early on in my then young life. I don’t know if she realized in those few words the profoundness of her statement, the one that still reaches out to me after all these years. At the time she was merely trying to impress upon me that if I could accurately draw a tree, with its twisted trunk and myriad of limbs, then I could eventually draw people. In that small way, she was inspiring me to continue on, knowing that with one accomplishment, I would one day be capable of another. Then there was the other side of the thought: how people and trees were so intertwined.

As time has passed by, I’ve learned more of what she unintentionally said. Trees, like people, can be very individual. You could have an entire forest planted in perfect rows from the same type of seed, but upon careful observation, each tree would be as individual and different from the next, albeit very small, but there would be differences. Thus, it is the same with people.

Then there is the first impression. Trees from a distance can seem impenetrable with their dark green canopies reaching to the sky. The closer you get, the more it becomes obvious they are simply a visual facade, composed of thousands of leafy pixels providing this false imagery. Underneath this blanket of photosynthesis, there is another world alive and vibrant. People, too, from a distance can seem standoffish, brash or unapproachable but the more you get to know them or become friends with them, you more often than not find that initial imagery was simply just a façade meant to protect the real person. Deep inside, they are much more complex, calculating and even caring. But the similarities go beyond the imagery. On the surface is the visual but beneath the exterior lie the branches of life. The stories of living flow from leaf to branch, to trunk and eventually all the way down to the roots. Within these living vessels flow the sap, the lifeblood of the tree, with its rising and falling. When the sap is rising, we feel the spirit of youthfulness rejuvenate our spirits; the spring of life. When the sap falls, we feel our own mortality wane and in essence begin to prepare for the winter of our discontent.

Yet, again we learn, in small pieces like the leaves on the tree, one twig, branch and limb at a time. The collective thoughts of our memories prepare us for a future we often yearn for but never see coming until it has flown past in a rush of life events, like the breeze blowing the treetops. Then, in the autumn of life, our memories begin to collect and fall back to earth where we can hopefully gather them close. For in these days, when we often find ourselves alone, the only things we have left are those cherished thoughts and recollections of days gone by. We wrap them around our souls, pulling them tightly as we sip on the dark elixir of herbal refreshment, embracing its soothing healing mint.

Deep are our roots. How far we follow them is up to us, and how far we use their life-giving energy to propel our ambitions forward is also up to us. To recognize this gift is only to allow what we have known all along to come into being, into the now, the buds of spring. With each step of life we take, we take another step toward the end; yet it must be so. For one step enables us to take the next; making us capable of doing more than we thought possible. These are the branches of our lives.

 

“¹⁰ “These were the visions of my head while on my bed:

I was looking, and behold,
A tree in the midst of the earth,
And its height was great.
¹¹ The tree grew and became strong;
Its height reached to the heavens,
And it could be seen to the ends of all the earth.
¹² Its leaves were lovely,
Its fruit abundant,
And in it was food for all.
The beasts of the field found shade under it,
The birds of the heavens dwelt in its branches,
And all flesh was fed from it.”

– Daniel 4:10-12

 

We spent the day reclaiming the yard, Jonathan and I.

 It seemed as if we had been gone all summer, just these past few weeks. The green fresh cut lawn smelled of temporary triumph. Then again, between the sweat and smell of fresh cut grass, there is always an air of success. It’s funny how odors can incite long ago memories to resurface. Just the aroma of grass being cut brought  back memories of days gone by. On this day, I easily went back to when I had the privilege to cut the tiny yard next to my Grandpa Tron’s farm, owned by Ms. Wolfe.

 I don’t ever recall seeing Ms. Wolfe except at her door when I received the grand sum of $5.00 for mowing her very small yard, perhaps a 20’x20′ area at most. It almost seemed dishonest, being paid that large of a sum of cash in the early seventies when I was barely ten years old. But then again, it was known that Mrs. Wolfe was living quite comfortably thanks to the late Mr. Wolf, who left her enough to keep her happy the remainder of her days here on earth.

So when she handed me the crisp $5.00 bill, I thanked her and looked forward to when the grass would grow enough to be welcomed back for another job. I usually wasn’t lucky enough to get the job though. I had plenty of other cousins who were older and more often available for such jobs. However, this one time was my lucky day, yet I still can remember it as if it were yesterday. Part of the reason the memory stuck, other than the one time job, is due to the book I found there years later.

Mrs. Wolfe eventually joined her late husband in their Heavenly abode. Sometime after, for whatever reason, they tore down the old house. While it was still in the process of being razed, some of us kids became nosey and went over to see if there was anything left behind. Other than a lot of wood in various stages of deconstruction, there wasn’t much left to tell us of the mysterious lives of the Wolfe family; no pictures, no memorabilia, nothing. We continued to look around, almost ready to leave, when I opened the door to what was once a closet. There were no walls, just the door. When I pulled it toward me, there was a pile of debris, like everywhere else in the house without a ceiling. I curiously picked up the top layer and found a small pile of books. My cousin and I opened them and found them to be full of strange writings and shapes. We had no clue what they were or meant. I said to her, “We should take one a piece and see if someday we learn enough in school to understand what they are.” I handed her one and took one for myself. A few weeks later the entire house was gone, with nothing left behind, other than what we had gleaned from the closet on our inquisitive day of discovery.

The book, “Applied Mechanics” by Fuller and Johnston was published in 1915. I happened upon it last week while cleaning out some closets of my own. While in college, studying to earn my degree in Electrical Engineering, I finally had the opportunity to learn enough physics and math to understand the strange writings and equations in the book we found in the closet so long ago. It took nearly twenty years, but I finally found out the meaning and value of this old treasure. No, it probably isn’t worth much in a book store, but for what it represented to me, it is certainly a keepsake.

I never knew what twist and turns my life would take, nor would I have ever envisioned learning enough to understand Mr. Wolfe’s old school book. But it made it clear to me that the late Mr. Wolfe had been a professional in his day, and it was no wonder Mrs. Wolfe had no need for worry or want in her later days. There was a transcript in the back of the book of Mr. Wolfe’s test scores: all 100’s except for a very few 90 and 95s. It was obvious he was quite intelligent, or at least so in this one class. I can rest assured though, he did well in life. Although we never knew him or his wife in detail, just the impression they made upon us little country kids who lived across the pasture was noble enough to make me believe he was a prominent citizen at one time. Besides, Grandma Tron always held Mrs. Wolfe in high esteem and that was enough for any of us kids; and all because we cut the yard today…

The granite solitude upon which I rested afforded me a panoramic view of the blue expanse of fading mountain tops in the distance. There, up where the raptors soared, there where nothing made of man could stand obscuring the bliss, where the air was crystalline under the azure blue sky, thoughts of God’s beauty couldn’t be resisted. As the gleeful chatter of youth in exploration of all they could touch and feel with pristine senses, I sat in repose, soaking it in like the morning sunshine on a dew soaked leaf.

A slight breeze wafted across the skin, fresh with perspiration from the challenging climb to reach its summit. Here we sat, now resting before moving on, as in life, pausing a brief moment to reflect and appreciate all that we have been so blessed to receive.

The rugged slopes falling off into nothingness, surrounding us, in a world full of hate and bitterness, fall off into somber greenery of the forests that abound. Cascading waterfalls fall along dark glistening surfaces as they dance in our ears, reminding us of the joyful sounds of life, bubbling forth enriching ions of energy through our beings.

Heavenly splendor, if only we can see…

A journey to the mountain top…ever so brief… a granite solitude.

The Crenshaw House: An oasis of nurturing comfort within a whirlwind of vibrant youthful energy and learning.

This weekend began with me having no earthly idea of how things would go or turn out with regard to the journey I’ve begun. I would have to say that there was some trepidation just prior to Friday night’s book reading since there could have been any number of subject matter experts in attendance. Yet, just the weekend before there was the same potential, but more from an aspect of the ancestral side. So, just before I started reading I said a silent prayer and vowed to just be myself, keeping the Word in focus and not give in to temptations to waiver from the truth.

I found an audience who was very accepting and full of great questions, much like Thursday night’s reading at the Goldston Library, but with a bit more diverse thought boundaries. It was refreshing and enlightening to hear these young people embrace my book’s subject matter, all of whom had no idea what it was prior to my reading.

Here in the cradle of education at the University of Auburn, I could hear and remember the youthful vigor and spirit that is so electric when arriving on campus to begin the groundwork for a life’s education. As I sat in the coffee shop listening to the humm of conversations all about me, I could hear that discussion weaving threads of life into the tapestry that would someday be memories of that college life they once knew. I had to ask myself, would my book reading in some small way become one of those threads, a moment in time when we sat down and heard this old guy talk about an ancient people we had never heard of? For a few curious listeners, this moment came true.

A few hours later, while recalling the previous scene to a very receptive audience at our weekend’s residence, The Crenshaw House, it became quickly apparent that youth was not the sole possessor of vibrant curiosity. A very welcoming crowd began to gather and I spoke to an unexpected group who had heralded from all regions of the country. Again, wonderful questions and ideas were initiated and once again I was enjoyably enlightened to the variables and unexpected viewpoints that arose.

Once again, I was refreshed to find that once the cover of the subject matter was unwrapped, there were very few that were unwilling to seek further. Once again I have to remind myself that although in my mind, things might be moving slowly, that this is God’s work and it will all come about in God’s speed. Here in the garden of solitude that this wonderful bed and breakfast affords, it is no wonder so many renowned scholars have called it a home away from home. It is definitely someplace that affords the visitor the sense of tranquility where time can be slowed and reflective countenance can be renewed.

Tomorrow begins another day, where the journey leads I cannot anticipate, but I welcome with renewed spirit and youthful vigor what might lie over the next horizon….let the journey continue.