They broadcasted it.

They proclaimed it to all.

How soon they forgot.

Mom had gone to the neighbor’s house, which made it more frightening. She was probably waiting for the rain to stop so she could return home. Nevertheless, I was alone.

Thundering.

Lightning.

Raining.

 ALONE!

Even then I could feel His hand on my shoulder–alone, but not afraid.

But he said unto them, It is I; be not afraid. John 6:20

but, am I?

Yes I am thankful,

aren’t I?

I pick and choose what I want to obey,

the word of God I hold carelessly.

I am thankful

or am I?

I sense your prescence.

Time runs together, it seems to stand still when everything is as it should be. Some call it deja vu, I call it, I have You.

Help me Lord to hear your voice.

 It would be interesting to hear from my friends, tell me where your feet went today. Perhaps to places you didn’t think they would.

The Woods and The Word—A Tribute to Reverend A.L. Colegrove

To many he was Reverend A.L. Colegrove, but to me he was Grandpa. I relished every minute the two of us spent together. I especially enjoyed our walks through the timberland of Irons, Michigan. We’d talk while we searched for fallen trees and old logs—potential firewood.  Every fall, Grandpa made sure he had enough wood-fuel for himself and Grandma, as well as a few surplus logs to give to his neighbors, just in case they needed some to get through the harsh winters of northwest Michigan.

While scouting for logs, Grandpa and I would play a game. The game’s object was to see who could be the first to spot something in nature and recall a scripture based on the observation. For example, one day Grandpa saw a lily and said, “Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin.”[1] Another time he stumbled upon a fallen oak tree and said, “In the place where the tree falleth, there it shall be.”[2]  He quoted scripture faster than anyone I knew.  I yearned to be just like him.

One day while we walked and hauled logs, I spotted a sapling growing within an old tree trunk and said, “For there is hope of a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that the tender branch thereof will not cease.”[3] After I said the verse I turned to Grandpa, hoping to see his sign of approval–head tilted to the left, glasses perched on the end of his nose, and an elevated right eyebrow peaked high on his forehead like an outline of Mt. Everest. I saw the arched brow and smiled. Everyone who knew Grandpa, recognized his hallmark of commendation.

I admired Grandpa and his ability to recite Scripture. I don’t know how many verses he memorized, but it was a lot. As a teenager, his mastery inspired me to read God’s word and hide it in my heart.[4]  Why? Because Grandpa Colegrove knew, preached and lived the engrafted word, knowing it is able to save our souls.[5]

[3] Job 14:7 KJV

[4] Psalm 119:11 KJV

[5] James 1:21 KJV