Thinking of Africa....

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"God places lonely people in families..." -Psalms 68:6

Prayers to Melissa, as she works out bringing her third adopted daughter home from Ethiopia.

The Alchemy of art....

"The painter should not paint merely what he sees in front of him, but also what he sees within him. If he sees nothing within him, however, then he should refrain from painting what he sees in front of him." -Casper David Friedrich

I love the spring and summer time, because I can spend more time out in my studio painting, reading, ruminating and envisioning how to bring out into the light, what I see in the dark. Words, Scriptures, themes, thoughts, feelings, longings and prayers are all part of the artistic summoning process. I realized that in the last month I've been able to hatch 5 pieces. This process is an illuminating one, it reveals just how long it takes someone to emerge into the role of artist . It takes a lifetime of becoming and its ever evolving. Skill develops, perspective and mood deepen and change, discoveries are made that shape the work or unlock creative doors...it's all very alchemy like.My studio becomes more than an alone space...it often becomes holy ground...kind of like Jacob's ladder...a stone turns out to be the very gate of heaven. A natural space is a mix of angels descending and ascending...the old pagans called these places or moments..."Thin Spaces" where the eternal and the finite are close to each other. I would say they are not "spaces" but Divine revelations...moments when God not the "Muses" is actively expressing Himself in and through the artists. Creating a spot where these realities can take palce easier is critical for me. I need images, icons, sights, materials, canvases, paper, tools...all kinds of scraps of experiences, art, statues, paintings, words, quotes, books and pieces of nature that provide a type of sacramental environment. My art studio and work spaces facilitate this.

"I like to have pieces of fine handicraft around me - old violins, vases, wood carvings, silverware. And, when I am fed up with the wranglings of spellbinders, diplomats, and reformers, and when the preaching of the sectarians seem empty and childish, and when the clanging and clashing of strikes, lockouts and wars make my head ache, and when radio commentators commentate and announcers announce with too much zest, then I like to go among my treasures, and catch the quiet spirit of the artist who created them. What patience and loving care is reflected in these works. How far removed they seem from the sound and fury of the power-mad world......" Tony Won

Sometimes the process is one that seems inhabited, not in a spooky devilish way but in a supportive one. I feel lured, prompted, poked, stirred and wooed. Sometimes lighting strikes in a illuminating way that is like a rush of revelation...or it's a quiet process of coagulation of dismembered elements.

It's in these moments and in storytelling or preaching that I feel most alive...and it's also when I feel that at any moment..,I might slip away like Enoch...I was there...and then, I was not.

Outlander....

James Caviezel,Ron Perlman, Sophia Myles, Jack Huston
Outlander: Science fiction meets Aliens, Predator and the great Vikings of the North. Swords, Spaceships, dragons, carnage, good story, pretty good acting. It's not a kids film with an R rating for fantasy horror (ie. tense, scary stalking monster in the dark stuff), Braveheartish 'thunk and chunk' splattering sword play, Dragon with all the 'crunch and munch' eating habits and a couple curse words....but no boobies, if thats your line.

The actors were great, some old faves of mine (Ron Pealman in viking face paint and hammer wielding glory!) and now some new faves, particularly the beautiful red headed, Sophia Pierre and the dashing Jack Huston, who should play the lead role of Thor in the new upcoming rendition of that Marvel character. The monster was great and in a few spots particularly horrific, it's been awhile since I've relished a good beastie in film. I really enjoyed the movie, minus a few weak spots: the uncreative almost rub on looking celtic tattoos, come on! paint up those barbarians. A few too many wide eyed shots of Sophia looking surprised; a pretty face even looks goofy shot that way; and the Catholic priest's character was weak, I was hoping that with Jim in the film we might have a good Christian character, he had kahunas, but thats it. Other than that...I loved it. I also thought the Viking hall with the tree inside was a great set. For some reason it made me think of this movie...I will have to go rent that and show it to my kids.

City of Blood....

"Woe to the city of blood, full of lies, full of plunder, never without victims!"
-Nahum 3:1

The ancient Assyrians were known for their brutal, psychological warfare...heaping the heads or bodies of their enemies into pyramids in front of their defeated foes cities. Caging one king with a dog collar into a constructed kennel in front of one conquered city's gate. Impaling defeated warriors on stakes, skinning fallen soldiers and lining their city walls with their epidermis. Deporting whole classes of people to other countries and resettling the lands with foreigners; uprooting, severing and erasing history, culture and sense of place. These warmongers were supreme in their craft of violence, masters of blade, spear, chariot and horse...they ruled with a bloody fist.

And God had compassion on them and called Jonah to go preach to them...and those manhunters...repented and God relented of His coming judgment for another generation.
I thought of this story as I reflected on a recent murder that took place a block from our church and two blocks from our home. This picture above is the memorial placed on the sidewalk where a man had a knife stuck in his throat in an argument with a woman.

I thought about Jonah, who chose to flee from the call to enter the "Bloody City" and instead bought a ticket to a far off Mediterranean port. I wrestled with the call to go to the barbarians and live among them...the fear, threat, danger and psychological challenge that is presented in living on sidewalks where blood is spilled. Do we flee or stand? I understand Jonah's trepidation and the wrestle with the implications of such a call. Until you are faced with such realities...the cost is simply theoretical. In these moments Mission must be birthed out of Divine Compassion and a clear sending mandate...or the seaports siren call...will overpower your sense of "doing something good" for the community.

Starting a movement...

It takes one to get the ball rolling...but its really person number 2 or 3 that catch it and make it happen. It amazes me how many people will jump on the train once its moving but how few there are that will push it out of the station. True leaders hear and see what possibly no one else does at the moment but they need the brave souls that will join the dance. Becoming catalysts is an awkward thing at times. It can feel crazy, lonely, goofy and sometimes the ridicule of those watching...is almost unbearable. But then something tips. Someone else begins to believe...they join the rhythm and music starts happening like fusion. The screams and shouts when all things are rocking and shaking are great and all but Lord give me the ones that can step up when everyone else is in the stands. They are the people that can change history.

Clearing the air...

“Without prayer, the constant traffic and opinions of people around us will swamp our inner lives and finally drown them.”- Johann Christoph Arnold, pastor and author

Ravished by Romanticism....

This is "The Sea of Ice" by Casper David Friedrich, I saw this in person in the Van Gogh museum in Amsterdam Holland. I remember the immediate impact it had on me...it was about like seeing a woman nude for the first time. I was stunned by it's beauty and mystery. It's a medium size painting at about 3x4 but the immensity of its impact had me enthralled. I was already in a art ecstasy being surrounded by Van Gogh originals...and when I saw Friedrich's work, it sent me over the edge. It's amazing when you discover an artist that speaks the language of your soul...they become life long friends in an instant. As I continue to discover the language and truth behind Impressionism and Romanticism...it's like hearing the voice of God. It's a resonance on a level that can only be felt. You step into a harmony that is as revitalizing as mountain air, flowing stream or lover's kiss. Finding people who you understand and understand you is a gift.

Too many people never discover tribes, sages, bards, voices, magicians, partners, icons or a god that presents a way, a truth and a life; that envelopes them and provides for them deeply liberating space to live and move and have their being.

Being known and truly knowing is a hunger and cry that is found at the deepest fissures of the human heart. It's the sacred root of what it means to Know God or be known by Him. To "know" is the phrase that the ancient biblical scribes and poets used to describe the bliss of sexual union.

It's the craving of every created being to return to it's Creator and to share in oneness with others because it's the image from which we were drawn from. It's our primordial palate. We yearn to be brought back to it's womblike generative power and comfort...because in it...we can be born again and again and again. New life springs from it's loins.

When one discovers this reality...you must do everything within your power to gain it...As a desperate romantic would plead, Jesus said: "Sever limb or gouge eye...sell all...leave all...hate all...in order to gain it."

Your life depends on it...or at least a life worth living.

I read this fromsome art history site and saw myself in the words:

"Romanticism in art, as in literature, followed the pendulum swing away from the optimistic Enlightenment idea of human dominion over nature and the credo that Reason would ultimately reign supreme. Revolutionary and chaotic, emotional rather than rational, often psychologically introverted, the Sturm und Drang ("Storm and Stress") movement in Germany - emphasizing subjectivity and unease - and its offspring the Romantic movement abhorred the 18th century's orderly imposition on nature and the designs of squared parterre tidy gardens with orthogonal lines of pollarded trees. Instead Romanticism preferred the vast wildernesses of an indifferent and unpredictable nature with its endless forests, towering clouds and deafening waterfalls from icy giant peaks.

Beginning in 1774, Goethe's Werther wept with newfound emotion in a landscape overflowing with undammed sentiment paralleled by swollen rivers and unmanageable floods of the world at large. Honesty about feelings were now more important in speech than wit and répartée; being and behaving genuine more important than artifice. Themes such as liberation, mysticism, exotic orientalism, human insignificance and a darker psychology ran counter to the eurocentric Age of Reason. Poems and paintings alike found the moon and dreams more interesting than the sun and conscious thought. Hermit shrines in the woods brought the artists closer to God than hollow liturgies in cathedrals of crowded cities darkened by coal smoke and religious hypocrisy, as Blake uttered like an Old Testament prophet in poetry:

"How the chimney-sweeper's cry
Every blackening church appals..."

How happy are tried Christians, afterwards....

How happy are tried Christians, afterwards. No calm more deep than that which succeeds a storm. Who has not rejoiced in clear shinings after rain? Victorious banquets are for well-exercised soldiers. After killing the lion we eat the honey;after climbing the Hill Difficulty, we sit down in the arbour to rest; after traversing the Valley of Humiliation, after fighting with Apollyon, the shining one appears, with the healing branch from the tree of life. Our sorrows, like the passing keels of the vessels upon the sea, leave a silver line of holy light behind them "afterwards." It is peace, sweet, deep peace, which follows the horrible turmoil which once reigned in our tormented, guilty souls.

See, then, the happy estate of a Christian! He has his best things last, and he therefore in this world receives his worst things first. But even his worst things are "afterward" good things, harsh ploughings yielding joyful harvests. Even now he grows rich by his losses, he rises by his falls, he lives by dying, and becomes full by being emptied; if, then, his grievous afflictions yield him so much peaceable fruit in this life, what shall be the full vintage of joy "afterwards" in heaven? If his dark nights are as bright as the world's days, what shall his days be? If even his starlight is more splendid than the sun, what must his sunlight be? If he can sing in a dungeon, how sweetly will he sing in heaven! If he can praise the Lord in the fires, how will he extol Him before the eternal throne! If evil be good to him now, what will the overflowing goodness of God be to him then?

Oh, blessed "afterward!" Who would not be a Christian? Who would not bear the present cross for the crown which cometh afterwards? But herein is work for patience, for the rest is not for to-day, nor the triumph for the present, but "afterward." Wait, O soul, and let patience have her perfect work.
-Charles Spurgeon

What Would You do...?

"Behold, this was the guilt of your sister Sodom: she and her daughters had arrogance, abundant food and careless ease, but she did not help the poor and needy. "Thus they were haughty and committed abominations before Me Therefore I removed them when I saw it. -Ezekiel 16:49-50

I thought this article in the "Inlander" was a thought provoking and deserved some wrestle among us believers and especially Spokcompton Christians, since our alternative paper wrote it.

19

"In a moment two become one.
Two lives become one heart.
Two roads become one path.
Two journeys become one adventure.
With you, one moment has become a lifetime."
-E.M

LeeElla and I celebrate 19 years of marriage today...we got married when we were 19 too.
I Love you babe....I've been with you half my life...and its been the best half...that gives me so much hope for the later days of our journey together.

Impressionism delivered me....

Van Gogh saved me....as an artist.

Impressionism set me free from mere copying still life and it was the most liberating artistic discovery for me as a mentally mired artist.

I was bound by exactness.

Being able to explore the subject from the impression: the colors, mood, light, form, the displacement of space, or some other impression, has been more challenging and artistic to me. When I saw Van Gogh's work in person in Amsterdam...I was delivered and saved as an artist, because I had been getting bamboozled by realism. Realism was too legalistic for me....impressionism reflected grace to me. In impressionism, I did not have to measure up perfectly...I could reflect the origional and yet be different. It's was a wonderful freedom.

When one stands real close and examines the painting stroke by stroke...you wouldnt "see" the image...in fact you would most likely reject it as a painting of that subject. But as you step back...gain perspective, distance and time...you begin to see that each seemingly random stroke...adds to the meaning of it all and builds a impression of the subject.

So I anticipate my meeting with eternity and the image of Jesus will be one of perspective not perfection. I won't upon close examination be too great a piece, with each day alone. In fact it would be frightening, if you look at it for its stark moment to moment, realism. But, added up, mixed with a lifetime of strokes and days...I trust the painting of my life will be a masterpiece...a testimony to His grace and creative use of life's colors and moments.

I will be a testimony to the mysterious, impressionistic work of time...and I am so grateful for that.

Nostalgic masterpieces....

Brutes, Beasts and Bodacious Brothelites...

""Every story of conversion is the story of a blessed defeat." -C.S. Lewis

I preached a message this Sunday called: "The Savior, Serpent and the Sea"; it was a word for the weary. I contrasted the differences between the world views that were present during the emergence of the gospel:

Greek/Roman World View:
Man alone against the world
Man against the Gods
Man, destroys or saves himself
Fate and Destiny

Christian World View:
*Christ and His Father seeking to save the world
*Man is loved by God
*Man is rescued
*Purpose and Will

I think the heart of the message is best summoned up in Paul's statement in Romans 8:28-39:
"If God is for us, who can be against us?".

It's easy to conclude that the universe is against you in these days and times...life often sends that message...and one can wither under the heat of fate and destiny. It can feel as if someone has predetermined a load for your life that crushes, drains, deflates, numbs, disillusions, frightens, dispirits and cauterizes your already hardening heart.

Most religions and/or spiritual philosophies teach some form of spiritualized escapism to deal with the realities around us. They promise some form of help after the grave or they teach techniques to mentally transform our pains through thinking differently or formulating fanciful meditations to endure. Most of that stuff deadens us...it's a religious act of producing callouses over our souls.

Other groups rally the troops, strike up the band, beat the shields and trumpet Braveheart-like charge into battle speeches. Pastors bark like King Leonidas of Sparta; stirring the blood to evoke some sort of barbarian frenzy that will carry people through their mounting difficulties. But after a while how many of those "captain on the horse" speeches can you endure before they all sound like brainwashing to get you to do something that is going to kill you!

Then there are those slick haired, fancy suited, velveteen voices that aim for the manifest destiny, industrialist within people. They manufacture Tower of Babel like promises and put a brick in one hand and sword in your other and enlist you into various religious part-time jobs; that at first make you feel needed and important; but eventually just turn you into mules for man-made kingdoms.

Or there's the slipper wearing couch counselors that soothe and sing to all your inner booboos and oowies. They cater and coddle to the ever whimpering crowd. They are the soft spoken Santa's that hug like Oprah and meander pointlessly...turning meetings into one big Chiropractor visit...they are always expensive and never actually get you healed.

The gospel of Jesus accomplishes more than just producing religious opiates...it really is good news for those who have even started to think that God is against them. Instead of reinforcing the idea that the universe is being run by some hot headed, capricious Brutes, Beasts and bodacious Brothelites...it tells of a loving, self revealing Father.The gospel of Jesus, reveals a Father who is rescuing His Children. It proclaims a Savior that comes to do what we could not do. It reveals a true Hero, so that you can let go of the empty mythologizing of your own strengths and accept the blessed defeat of faith...and then enter into the victory of His work for you. Jesus is the God who is with us. He comes to us...alone in our sinking vessel of broken hopes and dreams, shattered power and under-realized ambitions...and He beckons us out onto the waves to experience life lived through His life.

This is truly...Good News.

4th of July

If you live in Spokane, you have to make the effort to go downtown and
watch the fireworks from Riverfront park. Get real close so you can
feel them in your spleen when they explode. Yes there are a lot of
people and parking is a challenge but the memory is worth it. And if
you have kids...it's a must, watching from a distance is fun but up
close, it's like firing canons on Frigate!!!

Big Sky Country

This is the current painting I'm working on. It was inspired by our
recent trip into Montana.

Karate Jesus...?

"Then all the elders of Israel gathered together and came to Samuel at Ramah, and said to him, “Look, you are old, and your sons do not walk in your ways. Now make us a king to judge us like all the nations.”But the thing displeased Samuel when they said, “Give us a king to judge us.” So Samuel prayed to the LORD. And the LORD said to Samuel, “Heed the voice of the people in all that they say to you; for they have not rejected you, but they have rejected Me, that I should not reign over them. According to all the works which they have done since the day that I brought them up out of Egypt, even to this day; with which they have forsaken Me and served other gods; so they are doing to you also.” -1 Samuel 8:4-8

I'm often a conflicted person when it comes to national holidays...especially the ones that celebrate wars, soldiers and events of past bloodshed. Now I'm as grateful as the next person for the sacrifice of our military men and women and their families but I find my faith and my origin of birth at odds with each other. I know many people don't have a problem with this kind of image but I do. I know the arguments about the freedom of speech and the blood that has been spilled just so I can even question the ideology behind such blending of faith and patriotism. Again, I am grateful for the freedoms that Americans are losing more and more but that doesn't eliminate the theological briar patch that I find myself within; especially when I see an American flag and a "Christian" flag (as if there is one) sitting next to each other on a church stage. I get jittery when led in songs that celebrate militarism and patriotism within the context of worshipping God.

On the 4th of July, I can offer a prayer of thankfulness for being in this country but that prayer isn't offered in some kind of exlusive sense of pride; but out of sincere gratitude for the blessings that I have here. But in the same moment, I am held to the call to live out the truth of Phil. 3:20:

"But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ"

The tension in that reality isn't always easy to live out without sounding like a Gandhi quoting, granola munching, leftist hippie or a gun toting, RNC card carrying, Jeezuz fish wearing, fundamentalist rightwinger.

The temptation to enthrone Jesus as leader of whatever group, issue or campaign we are most geeked up about; is viral in the church and on the campaign trail. It seems Jesus is a chameleon these days...in some circles he is the tough guy whose an odd mix of Chuck Norris, George Washington and the tomahawk wielding dude from Last of the Mohicans. On other stages He is channeling Oprah, Howard Cunningham and Mr. Rogers and is always softly humming the Barney song. For some He is an incarnation of Noah the grand marshall of the animal loving kingdom...for others He's a buck hunting, hairy chested outdoors man with blood on his jeans and a chew in His lip. Sometimes He's a soft nursery worker and other times a hard bouncer. In the halls of crinkle brow He's a tee-totaling, creationist, or sterile scientist or bearded, Ben & Jerry lovin history teacher or politicized geneticist.

It gets wearisome trying to sort out the many versions of Jesus that are being traded these days in America.

I guess this 4th of July...I'm just going to burn and blow something up on Saturday...and say my prayers on Sunday.

Praying with dirt under your fingernails....

"For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat..."-Jesus (Matthew 25:35)

Our Church community garden is coming along nicely. It's a lot of work, but its the kind of work that you feel good doing. You know that what you are nurturing is connected to the heart of God. You're caring for His creation, helping the ground make something good for others to eat. You're also engaged in practical mission that connects words to action. It's community development...making a neighborhood better than it was. It's shared labor, working together as a faith community to provide healthier food for families. In the end...you are feeding Jesus, and that mystery is the deepest of all.
This is Ed or Friar Tuck as I like to affectionally call him. He is one of our neighbors and part of Jacob's Well. He shares a lion's share of the daily watering and care for the garden. He has lovingly tended the grape vine and takes pride in its thriving...the overflowing grapes are a testimony to his attention. Seeing his focused love, is one of the fruits of ministry. It's been a long road to this place in time and there were many moments when it seemed everything was against us in this endeavor. But God has been faithful and seeing Ed meandering through the garden reminds me of God's goodness.
These are some of the grapes growing on the vine that is climbing all over the arbor. Not sure if they are good for wine or not, but to me, their bounty is a prophetic witness to a past season of promised visitation. Little did I know in those days of heavy Presence and outpouring that God would take those scriptures concerning wine, oil and bread and literally make them a reality. When I stand in the cool shade of this vine...I am reminded of those words and soon prayer begins to mingle with the smell of dirt and the swish of the sprinklers. It's a true realization of His kingdom coming to literal earth.

It's a blessing when we get a chance to witness our prayers and praise, intertwined in the unfolding works of the Lord...yet one more reason to cultivate a community that values prayerful mission.

If I were a Sultan...

...in another life, I'd make them both queens of my bardic escapes and let them play the swan song of my fading kingdom...The girls of the Northern skies....First Aid Kit

Camping....

Thanks Colleen for the laugh...

Here's....Cookie.

Icarus Eve

Cool guys dont look at explosions....

Yellowstone or Bust....?

Well...it was a bust. Our long planned trip to Yellowstone National Park imploaded half way there. My travel buddy and his 6 year old son, were the chuckwagon and navigators for our
trip. At our half way point in Philipsburg, Montana, after an afternoon of prospecting, my buddy had a health scare that prompted need to return to Spokane. It was serious enough to warrant the termination of the planned excursion. Needless to say it was a tough call and my sons were bummed, especially Micah. I thought about continuing alone but we had planned to sleep in the rig, so there was no space for all the supplies, we had no large tent and in Yellowstone they require you to lock up all your gear in your rig. Plus, I wasn't sure it was safe for my travel partner to drive home alone. So it was a bust. But we enjoyed the day, minus the 8 hours in the truck...even though the views were amazing!
"I am in love. For other states I have admiration, respect, recognition even some affection, but with Montana it is love." - John Steinbeck

After a day in the Big Sky State...I can see why people speak of Montana's wild beauty. There is something awesome about the wide open spaces with their azure skies, accentuated with billowy cotton balls. The sweet smelling grassland and soft wind blown meadows are painted with and rippling rivers that cut through jagged, rusty red stoned hillsides. The looming snow capped peaks in the distance stands as sentinels beckoning you to come deeper into the wild. I was mesmerized by the little of Montana that I experienced and I definitely plan on returning for a extended stay.

As we were traveling through Montana, we saw a cattle drive off the main road. Cowboys, horses and big Bovine, all being herded along in the beautiful countryside. It was quite a wild west archetypical scene to behold. It made me want to pull over, put on my cowboys hat, slap the 30-30 on my shoulder, stand on my rig and shout out "HIGH YAH...GIDDY UP!!!...or something like that.

Prospecting in Montana...

On our Day trip into Montana, we spent time at the Gem Mountain Mine, outside of Philipsburg Mt. It's a tourist stop for those who want to do a little panning for sapphires. We had a really good time. You can watch the short video below that shows the whole Gem Mt. process.
These are the the types of Saphirres that come out of the mine. Christian and I found a white with slight blue tinge Sapphire that I am going to get set in a necklace for LeeElla.
It was funny how addicting this process was. It was the same rush that gambling gives...for $14 you get a bucket of dirt and then the search begins. You are just sure the next pail is going to have your once in a lifetime find in it. I could of spent my whole trip fund right there at that wash-trough. It was kinda scary....I could slightly feel a Gold Rush Fever setting in.

Gem Mountain Montana - Sapphire @ Yahoo! Video

Where Icarus burns...

"A person may plan his own journey, but the LORD directs his steps." -Proverbs 16:9

Lately I've felt like the journey wearied Homer in the Odyssey. Stones are flying and this ship is tossed here and there by the endless battering of circumstances and challenges. I've set a course and this vessel has been under a squall of internal and external tempests, that at times, appears to be busting me open.

It's one thing to aim at the man you desire to be, envision the journey you long to pursue and...actually getting there.

Life throws all kinds of things at you and how you choose to respond, unfolds the man you become by the grace of God. That process will take you to the dark marrow of manhood. It will break you open, test your mettle, expose your humanity. It's a pummeling process that teaches a man how to kneel...and how to stand.

These are the days of testing...you will wrestle with everything under the sun: trouble, hardship, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, sword, death, life, angels and demons, the present, the future, powers, heights and depths...all will seek to "conquer us" (Romans 8:35-39); and in some seasons it seems as if you are wrestling with God himself:

"He has blocked my way so I cannot pass; he has shrouded my paths in darkness. He has stripped me of my honor and removed the crown from my head. He tears me down on every side till I am gone; he uproots my hope like a tree. His anger burns against me; he counts me among his enemies."-Job 19:8-11

I cling to the promise that in all these things...we will overwhelmingly conquer (Rom 8:37)...at times that seems fairly grandiose to claim...but it is a cold, hard verse, to either believe or reject. I'm struggling to embrace it in light of the challenges in my path.

This warrior poet's plea...

"Embolden this, my weakening hand,
frail heart or mind be armored,
Courage and faith fail me not,
in tempests or assaults.

Heed not, do I,
be it to mists, darkness, flame or thunder'
Flinch neither from pain, blood, sweat or toil.
Hold the ground before the mouths of leviathan
and stingers of Apollyon.

Ascend not to unbeckoned heights...where Icarus burns,
Or depths where prophets in sovereign bellies...churn.

Fidelity forever...let my future be sure;
In lions dens, or furnace fire,
on rooftops of gardened achievement,
or forbidden desire.

Eyes be clear, amidst tears and fall,
Clarion voice, celestial light's call,
Darkened charts, no sailors worry,
compassed course, faith's daring journey."

Afternoon at the Dog park

This is a shot from a little dog park on stateline, that we take Kona to when we are near it.
She loves running free and sniffing butts.