One thing about fall in North Dakota is that it doesn’t last long – get out and enjoy those fall colors while they last! Before long they’ll be gone for the year.
A light unto my path
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Pilings-on and a double-barreled Sunset Song of the Day
I returned to the truck right around sunset, with only the last bits of pink and purple remaining in the western sky. I got into position and eyeballed the shot, unsure whether I’d actually get an angle I liked. I did, as you can see, but I hadn’t brought my camera down to the rocky shore with me in case I didn’t like what I saw. I dashed back up before the light went away from me, returned for a quick setup and series of shots trying different things with fill flash and long exposures, then it was time to come home for some homemade chili.
Due to the amount of time spent walking, I had plenty of opportunity to select two songs for tonight’s Sunset Song of the Day. The first one is “Standing Outside a Broken Phone Booth With Money In My Hand” by the Primitive Radio Gods (iTunes link) and the second is “Black Chow” by Big Spider’s Back (iTunes link). Both have a good tempo suitable for walking back to your truck at the end of a nice, long hike. They also set the mood for a relaxing purple-and-blue end to the evening, down by the river as it laps against the rocks.
Obama the lame duck
My little guys and I attended with our cameras. They started out taking pictures of flags and the capitol but soon discovered a bug. No, not a glitch – an actual insect, and a large one at that. That pretty much captured the attention of both little boys until one stomped on him.
It was encouraging to see Governor Dalrymple in attendance, listening intently to the scheduled speakers and concerned citizens who participated in open mic sessions. I eyeballed the signs and banners displayed but knew instantly that this little girl’s was my favorite: the lame duck. It was my boys’ favorite too, I believe…after they got to pet the duck!
Sky as canvas
“…stand still, and consider the wondrous works of God…Dost thou know the balancing of the clouds, the wondrous works of him which is perfect in knowledge?” –Job 37:14,16
This year I’ve developed a new love for September. I love the days which are warm, but not too warm. I embrace the cool mornings and used yesterday evening to follow up the TEA Party rally and sunset with a roaring bonfire. The crisp, clear nights are perfect for stargazing and, as I’ve noticed over the past several days, the clouds are quite remarkable.
The past six weeks have been a blur due to a hectic work schedule, culminating in a frenetic Week Six that delivered some marathon days but satisfying progress. Now that the major rush has subsided for the time being, I’m grateful for the opportunity to, as Job was instructed, stand still and consider the wondrous works of God. Wondrous indeed.
Three dudes silhouette
At one time, I was that little Vietnamese girl
One of the orphans he worked with, along with her sister, saw her daddy hang himself. The children were terribly traumatized, as you can imagine…and this particular little girl wouldn’t smile or talk to anyone. After a lot of work, she would smile and talk to Mike.
One day, she heard that he was coming to the village. She dressed up in her best clothes and prepared to come see him. While crossing a canal that was basically an open sewer, on a bridge consisting of a fallen tree laid across the canal, she slipped and fell into the sewage slop.
When he got there, she was crushed and reeked of all the stinky gunk that she was covered in, crying uncontrollably. Moved by the spirit, he knelt down, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek, and told her, “It’s okay, honey…I don’t care what you smell like, I love you anyhow.” The little girl was overjoyed. It was this gesture that convinced the communist authorities that he was the real deal, and that he loves those kids over there.
The same picture applies to the sinner being saved when he/she accepts Christ. I was in the same sorry shape as that little Vietnamese girl. I was covered in slop spiritually, things that would be putrid to an almighty and just God. Things like:
– the sin I was born with. We all are, since Adam. “Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned…” (Romans 4:12)
– the idea that I was basically a “good person.” “As it is written, There is none righteous, no, not one…” (Romans 3:10)
– the sins I’d committed in my life, most notably, according to Jesus: “Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not commit adultery: But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.” (Matthew 5:27-28)
– the good I thought I’d done to make up for the bad. “But we are all as an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags…” (Isaiah 64:6)
– the religion that I thought would absolve me of my sins: “Howbeit in vain do they worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men.” (Mark 7:7)
I was eternally stained with a load of foul, awful mess that neither I or any other man could never wipe clean. Neither could “religion.” I was stuck with it. My soul reeked with the disgusting mess of the sin I’d inherited and the slop I’d rolled around in for nearly thirty years. Yet God didn’t care about that. When I finally humbled myself and believed that I was a simple sinner in need of God’s mercy and grace, It was as if he knelt down, wrapped His arms around me, and told me, “It’s okay…I don’t care what you’ve done. I’ve made a way for you…Jesus died for those sins. You’re clean in my eyes.” It was then that I knew for sure that God is real.
I remember that night, when the summation of all the witnessing by my Christian friends finally sunk in. I suppose I could simplify things into three choices. One, you could reject Jesus altogether. Two, you could claim to know Him, but trust in sacraments or good works to justify you in God’s sight. Or three, you can admit that you’re a sinner and only Jesus’ dying on the cross for your sins can save you. Only the third will save your eternal soul. The apostle John wrote in the Bible, “And he is the propitiation for our sins: and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world.” (I John 2:2), “For he hath made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in him.” (2 Corinthians 5:21) That whole world includes you, me, and everybody. Not only did God love us, but he “washed us from our sins in his own blood” according to Revelation 1:5. But you’ve got to believe.
Spiritually, the lost sinner feels the same way as that little Vietnamese girl when he approaches God and trusts in Jesus for his eternal salvation…to be accepted and loved, when they feel filthy and unloveable. That was me several years ago. I just wanted to share that with you.
Photo credit: Man Him, Republic of Vietnam (modified for this post within Creative Commons license)
This post has been bumped up from May 3rd, 2008.
Power Station, or Some Like it Hot
I was on my way to the Harmon Lake area to see if some astrophotography was in order when I spotted this view of Heskett Station. I pulled over at the nearest approach, took the Hoof Express back to a good camera location, and snapped a few shots. The moon was in just the right spot, and so was I. From there it was only a short hop north to Harmon and the decision that Saturday night was far too cold for this would-be photographer to be standing outside in a hoodie and light jacket. Thanks to the view above, though, I didn’t come home empty handed.
Where else can I go to lower my IQ a couple dozen points? I’m sure the Internet will provide
I’ve often stated that if I start feeling too intelligent I simply have to go peruse the Comments section of the Bismarck Tribune website to knock off a couple dozen IQ points. It was serious tinfoil-hat territory, and it did as much to hurt the Tribune’s credibility as their editorial bias…but in a slightly less guarded tone.
I hit my teens during the dawn of the personal computer age. I remember calling local BBSs (Bulletin Board Systems) with my 300 baud modem nearly thirty years ago. Even then people were frantically pounding away at their keyboards, typing outrageous things they’d never have the nerve to say to someone in person. It was a valuable lesson to learn back then rather than right now, where everything you type is instantly available worldwide forever. Some would say I still step in it, but we can debate that another time.
Now how do I lower my IQ on demand? I don’t watch television. I guess I could still go to the Tribune website and meander through one of Clay Jenkinson’s rambling missives occasionally. Of such garrulousness I simply say, brevity is the soul of wit.
In any case, even though the local tinfoil-hat crowd has been silenced within the Tribune’s purview, I’m sure the Internet will provide a suitable alternative should the need arise.
Fort Lincoln frisbee frolicking
Off duty at 22,000
This is an old police/security vehicle sitting alongside a little gravel road along the interstate highway. While it has a reflective Air Force Security logo sticker on the door, I don’t think that’s original. The car is not directly accessible from there; one has to hit a couple of gravel roads to find it. That’s easily accomplished with a little GPS or Google Earth.
