Tuesday, July 13, 2004

It was England's darkest hour. Each night the air raid sirens would wail their haunting warning that German bombers were again approaching London with their showers of death. And each night, Londoners would race to the city's bomb shelters, many of them underground in London's subway stations. When people surveyed the damage the next morning, the landscape had changed, with familiar buildings turned to rubble - and sometimes neighbors lost to the bombs. In that long dark night of the soul, Prime Minister Winston Churchill was the inspiration that kept the spirit of the British alive. Each day, he was there picking his way through the rubble, directing emergency responses, and giving encouragement wherever he could. But where was Winston Churchill when the German bombs were raining down on the city over his head, trying to bomb England into submission? In his bunker in front of a table that was covered with a map of Europe, and with his nation under brutal German bombardment, Churchill was planning the invasion of Germany!

Wednesday, June 16, 2004

The battles were horrendous. The casualties were many. But the outcome changed everything. That's a very quick summary of the final episode of J. R. R. Tolkien's classic trilogy, "Lord of the Rings." That trilogy jumped off of dusty bookshelves and into the popular culture with their portrayal in three of the most successful movies of all time. Tolkien weaves a tale of a world called Middle Earth where these soulless, subhuman beings are attempting to stamp out the "Age of Humans." Finally, in the concluding "Return of the King," Middle Earth's rightful king, Aragorn, leads the humans in one last, all-out attempt to turn back the forces of evil. After many costly battles, there's a glorious coronation day for the triumphant king. As the crown is placed on the head of the rightful ruler before this jubilant crowd of his subjects, they know the dark days are over. And the one who crowned him makes this hope-filled announcement - "Now begin the days of the King!"

Wednesday, June 9, 2004

We have this one immortal photo of our youngest son. We love to look at it! He hates for us to resurrect it. It was taken when he was three years old. He was in the yard and we had set up a tent back there. And apparently, well, he wanted to help. So, as we watched out the kitchen window, he started moving poles and trying to drive stakes deeper. Then he got inside the tent and explored a little bit, and then he decided one of those tent poles needed to be better positioned. Of course, he wasn't old enough, he wasn't experienced enough to mess with what holds up a tent. So, he picked up a pole - you're probably already ahead of me here, aren't you? - and in one very sad moment, the tent came crashing down. Now about the photo: here is this very sad little boy, holding a tent pole in one hand, holding his head with the other hand and his face showing this pitiful mixture of fear and bewilderment. Poor guy! He had worked hard on this, and it just collapsed around him. I know the feeling.

Monday, May 31, 2004

I never voted to have a dog in our house. I think they sneaked her in when I was on a trip or something, but we got one. Her name was Missy, a Shih-Tzu, and the last time she went to this dog care place, they actually registered her as "Missy Hutchcraft." Now, that is my last name. There is no family resemblance here, and I'm not sure I want to give her my last name. But I do confess that I think Missy taught me something that I might never have understood without her. I hope she's not listening. I would hate to admit this in front of her. Well, see, it was never hard to find Missy when our son was home. He was her master, so when he is at college, you never knew where you would find her in the house, but when he's home, oh, it was easy. When you have found our son, you had found Missy. He's in the living room - she's in the living room. He's in the basement - Missy's in the basement. Our son's in his room, Missy is in his room. Missy doesn't care where she is as long as she's with her master.

Monday, May 24, 2004

My son had dreamed about an old Mustang for years. I mean, the kind with four wheels, not four legs. He saw a great price advertised; he sold some of his baseball card collection, and he became the proud owner of a 1968 Mustang. Yeah, right, the kind that runs on gasoline, not oats. Right? I just wanted to make that we're clear on the Mustang thing. Now he invited me to take a drive, and I slid in. I turned the key. It whirred to life, and several nearby birds went for counseling as I started up the driveway. I mean, this thing had a roar to it! Now, when I reached the top of the driveway, I found out what I didn't like about that "cool"' car - turning it. See, I'm spoiled. I've got power steering. This car had power steering, except it was my power. When you want to turn that Mustang, it's like a total body operation. You sort of wrap yourself around it several times. You sort of call it corkscrew turning. Now, I never asked to drive the Mustang much after that. It was entirely too hard to turn!

Monday, March 1, 2004

Thanksgiving dinner in Baghdad! That's not many folks' dream way to spend Turkey Day. But for some American soldiers, Thanksgiving 2003 may be one of the more memorable holidays of their lives. That was the day the President of the United States joined them for Thanksgiving Dinner - actually helped serve them Thanksgiving Dinner. In the aftermath of the Iraq War, Baghdad was still not a very secure place, so the President's visit came as a total surprise, a total secret from the press. Many American soldiers were feeling the weight of an extended tour of duty and, for many, the sudden appearance of their President was a real morale boost. As GIs have learned in previous wartime visits from other Presidents, there's something re-energizing about a personal visit from your Commander-in-Chief.

Thursday, February 26, 2004

Okay, I admit that I'm often in a hurry to get where I'm going. More than once, we've been traveling in the crew configuration my wife and I have used for years - me pilot at the wheel, her navigator with map. I'm clipping along at a healthy rate of speed, believing that the purpose of the exercise is to be there, not to spend a lot of time getting there! Right? And even though my beautiful navigator may have announced that a turn may be coming up soon, I maintain my "must get there" speed. Then, suddenly, I hear those words, "This is our turn!" Zoom! We blow right past it - sometimes without an opportunity to turn around for several miles. So much for me trying to make good time. Too often, I've ended up on the wrong road - just because I was going too fast to turn.

Friday, February 13, 2004

Once you've gotten used to a new convenience you find yourself asking, "How did we ever do without these?" Sadly, my cell phone is one of those new things that seems indispensable now. Especially when you have lots of irons in the fire and you're on the road a lot. Often, by the end of the day my cell phone and I have something in common - our battery is dead and we need recharging. I get into a bed - my phone gets plugged into an outlet. Not long ago, I went through my night-night drill in my motel room, including plugging in my cell phone. It wasn't happy the next morning when I went to turn my cell phone back on. Oh, I had plugged it in - on one end. See, I had connected my phone cord into the phone, but I had forgotten to plug it into the wall. So, my dead phone was still very dead.

Tuesday, January 6, 2004

There is no way we could have taken our "On Eagles' Wings" team of young Native Americans across Alaska without the help of our wonderful missionary partner Grant. He made the arrangements for us in village after village and helped fly us across the area, and took on much of the follow-up. Now, Grant is a pilot. You almost have to be when the villages you serve are often hundreds of miles from the nearest road. You can imagine how hard it hit us when we heard that another pilot had crashed and totaled the plane that Grant's ministry depends on. Miraculously, no one was seriously injured, but Grant was without a plane and without any funds to replace it.

Well, we joined Grant and his really dedicated family in fervent prayer for God's provision. And God really provided! The plane Grant lost was a four-seater - not big enough to even transport his whole family in one trip. The plane God replaced it with? A better aircraft, a bigger aircraft - a six-place plane that now enables him to take his whole family - or, in our case, many young Native missionaries - in one load.

Tuesday, November 11, 2003

If I ever want to know anything about gardening, I ask the man in my world who is the master gardener - my friend, Mel. He doesn't ever need to shop in the produce department - he has his own produce department in his backyard in this fabulous garden of his. Not long ago he was telling me about these incredible raspberries he saw growing in the woods near his home. But why have to go hunting for them in the woods, huh, when you can just transplant those raspberries and grow them in your own garden, right?

Well, Mel was sorry he did that. In the woods, where God planted them, the berries had been big and many. In Mel's garden, where he planted them, those same bushes produced berries that were small and few.