I Am Here to Kill You

That’s a pretty provocative title, isn’t it?

Too bad I can’t take credit for it. John Prince used it for the title of his knockout sermon on Daniel 2:12-23 on September 12.

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Of Dreams and the Interpretation Thereof

Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. –Sigmund Freud

I guess Freud would have had a thing or two to say to Nebuchadnezzar’s advisers.

During John Prince’s message from Daniel 2:1-11 on Sunday, I was struck by the means God used to goad John into returning to school to pursue a ministry degree. I, too, found my way to Bible College by way of dreams.

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What’s the Point of Trials and Suffering?

On February 26 at Harambee, Caleb’s message was from Daniel 1:17-21. The sermon was entitled, “Unusual Ability.” The basic outline, according to my notes, was: 1.) It’s not the ability, it’s the gift; 2.) It’s not the gift, it’s the use; 3.) It’s not the use, it’s the purpose.

Aside from being simply an outstanding contemporary application of this Old Testament passage, Caleb’s words spurred a thought which filled in a major theological hole in my understanding of the OT.

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In Search of The Lost Spaniard

In one respect, this tale begins around 1986 with a birthday gift.

Generally speaking, I am not a big fan of my birthday, and there are not many birthday gifts that I remember. But during one of his visits to Seattle after starting his stint in the Air Force, J-W Smith bought me the most remarkable gift for my birthday.

It was a book.

And it was used.

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sleeping on the ground
is more relaxing—and safe—
when the ground sleeps, too

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The Waptus River Record

We stood at the high point of the first half on the Waptus River Trail.

The goal on this backpacking trip was to find a decent camping spot on the west bank of the Waptus just outside of the Alpine Lakes Wilderness boundary, and we were pretty sure we’d found our jumping-off point to cut off-trail.

This kind of go-it-alone exploration was getting to be something of a habit for us.

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Jim Bridger’s Lament

I can see it all very clearly

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Tonga Ridge Tales

I lay flat on my back in the snow, my orange fifty-pound Sportswest budget external-frame backpack pinned under me, my brand-new Trek cross-country no-wax skis twisted awkwardly if still painfully attached, poles flailing, and four-letter words spewing in a non-stop stream from my cold and ice-encrusted lips.

At times such as these, you find out who your friends really are.

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The Great Insurance Panic of 2016

To the elders at Harambee:

When you have lived on TPN for 11 years as Jenn has, every year brings new insurance coverage and home-health supplier issues. This year’s transition has been absolutely brutal.

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Epilogue: Hell or High Water

I choose the voyage prepared
The course set in the presence of my enemies
Yes, I choose the Master’s craft

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