Almost a year ago, my good friend John Southwood and I journeyed north to the Mount Hermon Christian Writers Conference. John had a book concept—on the much-needed topic of integrity, based on Job. Not long after, some issues arose that the doctors diagnosed as brain cancer. Just last Saturday, that cancer took John’s physical life even as he received a full healing. Yeah, I’m a bit jealous, but my day will come. Many of you knew John, many of you prayed for him this year and I so appreciate that. Our lives have been entwined since…
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Picture of NYC by Arcaid Images
A Humbling Trip
When surrounded by works of mankind, we can easily impress ourselves—with ourselves. Last fall Sheila and I make an east coast trek, and the skyscrapers of New York City astounded me. Towering buildings based on solid bedrock. Every square inch seeming used. Honestly, I felt pretty proud to be part of the human race that could craft such a place. But pride…
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image from commons.wikimedia.org
Hands on the Home Keys
Not long ago, a Facebook friend put up a post that made no sense at all. The letters were out of place, forming few coherent words. Frankly, I wondered if he’d had a stroke. Nothing so dire, thankfully. Another friend gently tweaked him, “Sean, hands on the home keys.” That was it. He had just…
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“Vega Alta” by Brad Howe
Just One Bite...
Back in December, I visited the Elena Bulatova Fine Art Gallery in Palm Desert and saw this kinetic art, titled Vega Alta by Brad Howe. No one around to say no, and not a single “Do Not Touch” sign in sight, so I gently touched one of the paddles. As it moved it touched another, that one brushed another, and pretty soon the entire piece gently swayed. All from one small touch.
Life can be like that! One act, seemingly safe, triggers downstream consequences we never imagined. I suspect Eve felt the same when tempted with the proverbial apple. She was told it was safe. She liked the aroma. She tried just a small bite. She liked the taste; she finished it. And we all bear the results. Just a small bite that changed life. The solution may lie…
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image by Pedal to the Medal Cycling
Outdo One Another
John and his Harley D met me and my Goldwing at the 76 station, destination west to the mountains and coast. Ironically, winter gives the best riding in SoCal. Winter rains turn the golden hills of CA (insert dead grass here) into lush and green wild grasses. Our route: where Rancho California Rd enters the mountains, joins De Luz road where the creek crosses seven times. Well, that happens in wet years. This one is wet enough to bring the green, but not much water. Oaks, horse ranches and hills slowed us down enough to enjoy the view, the bikes kept us moving at a good pace where we could enjoy the marriage of road, rider, and bike. We may have left the ages of high testosterone and sport bikes, but no one passed us. But about ten miles in…
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Give Comfort
While in San Diego two years back to celebrate our anniversary, Sheila twisted wrong and broke a vertebra. The pain pretty much immobilized her, even getting out of bed caused too much pain, so she lived on the living room couch. The surprise arrived when Allie, our cat of 12 years, never left her side. She sensed something was wrong, and stayed on Sheila’s lap or snuggled up against her. I suspected Allie would continue that, but once Sheila healed, Allie went back to her normal cat ways. But about two weeks ago…
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Secrets of Serenity
Most of us enjoy serenity. Yeah, I love the adrenaline rush of hitting 112 in a Lamborghini Gallardo 550 just before a 170-degree turn, or riding 1,080 miles in one day on the bike, but I also need the times to relax, to just sit, to enjoy God’s creation. Today was an example—after awesome worship and a great Mexican lunch, we headed to our winery to chill. This pic shows my wineglass and the view. Serenity. I also love Facebook…
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Strange Goals
Early on a cold and rainy morning, Rich and I rode our bikes from Stewart, British Columbia over the bridge into the thriving metropolis of Hyder, Alaska. Population 87 in 2010. An American city who uses Canadian money and the Royal Canadian Mounted Police for law enforcement. “Alaska’s Friendliest Ghost Town,” as locals call it. But then, we saw no locals. One nice feature: travelers need no passports to go from Canada to Alaska…only to return…
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