Archive for December, 2015

The boxes shown above don’t contain much, and yet they hold the physical representation of eras gone by.

We are moving our place of residence, physically.   Perhaps spiritually, ecumenically, and grammatically, as well, if Captain Jack were telling this story, but I digress.

Back to the boxes.   The hearts have said “time for a new adventure”.  The contracts have all been signed.  The inspections have all been cleared.   It is now time for packing, and reliving moments of the dreams: dreams God planted.

It was 30 odd years ago that I first heard the tune Michael W. Smith made famous.

“Packing up the dreams God planted

In the fertile soil of you

I can’t believe the hopes He’s granted

Means a chapter of your life is through

But we’ll keep you close as always…
Since that time, years have come and years have gone.   I returned home to the far country, and came back to the windswept plains a score later with Frau and kinder in tow.

Over these aforementioned 30 odd years, events have come and gone, along with hairstyles, bad fashion choices, and a small array of vehicles of various shapes and sizes.   Each serves as a visual guidepost to the time reflected in scores of pictures.   Pictures contain memories, and memories take us back to old friends.  A few of the pictures, postcards, and momentos took my breath away.   The hope is for no memory to be lost.   And so, we pack.

And friends are friends forever

If the Lord’s the Lord of them

And a friend will not say never

‘Cause the welcome will not end

Though it’s hard to let you go

In the Father’s hands we know

That a lifetime’s not too long
To live as friends”
The cabinet left behind may now be empty, but the relationships and memories live to reflect another day.

We’ll keep you close as always

It won’t even seem you’ve gone

‘Cause our hearts in big and small ways

Will keep the love that keeps us strong…”


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Are you a “Whovian”?   I’ve never considered myself one of such ilk, but the storyline of tonight’s season finale may have made a convert out of me.

Tonight’s yarn was well spun, indeed.   It dealt with endless love, timelines, missing heartbeats, failed memories, and journeys to the end of the universe.   In the end, the message was clear: we are who we are, and we all have a job to do.

Returning to reality for a moment, a picture really does paint a thousand words.   Researchers have recently suggested that our DNA may carry more than just physical traits; it may carry personality, and the effects of predecessors’ experiences, as well.

I’ve seen it at work.   A member of my personal progeny once mimicked without fault a mannerism of a great grandfather who predeceased her birthdate by over seven years.   All I could do was look on in wonder.

Then, there are the signatures.   I keep a small inherited library of books in my office.   Each of the three signatures shown above came from one of the volumes contained therin.

I never really knew the man who penned the first much less ever studied his penmanship until recently, and yet I see his hand in my own, his smile in my mirror, and his eyes in my son.

The DNA helix is an amazing creation, indeed.   Aside from an array of chemicals, I believe it may be made up of traces of endless love, timelines, missing heartbeats, failed memories, and journeys toward the end of the universe.   There may be an extended cursive “m” trailing off somewhere in there, as well…

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