Memorial Day

I remember I was about 10 years old, my mom crying when she got word. He was the only son of my great aunt and uncle, she was widowed at the time he died. The last time we saw him was at my grandparent's farm. He had his lovely fiance with him. I thought they were just beautiful together. They never got married. Bill was a gunner in South Vietnam, a "green bean" as one officer affectionately described him. He and his crew died in a chopper crash.
William Henry Murphy
Lieutenant (junior grade)COASTAL DIV 15, TF 115, USNAVFORV United States Navy23 September 1942 - 19 November 1967 Madison, WisconsinPanel 30E Line 025



















CW3 Curtis Woodrow Hutto, pilot, A/1/9 Cav
WO1 Michael Joseph Utter, copilot, A/1/9 Cav
LTJG William Henry Murphy III, observer, COSDIV 15
SP4 Jeffrey Allen Hawk, crew chief, A/1/9 Cav

Little boxes, little boxes.....

Found this pic posted at http://www.cuteoverload.com/
Says Padraic C.: "My parents were taking out some recyclables, when a few old cardboard boxes fell off the stack. By the time they got back from the end of the driveway, they saw this"

Cats are some of the most "free-est" creatures. The world is their, well, world. Yet, with all the openness around, all the free space...they chose to sit in these boxes.
Reminds me of Christians, or maybe people in general....freedom is all around, yet we persist in sticking our butts in a safe zone. I keep reading what I just wrote and I can't seem to say in words what I'm thinking. I've been going to a house church off and on. I was hoping it would be different, and it is, but people keep falling back into their preconceived roles: a leader at the front who wants to let go, but keeps snatching it all back; another guy who knows the Bible inside and out and will tell you so, except he's just really a humble guy...and will tell you that as well. Then there are the Worship people who are the only ones who can seem to lead worship, even though there are bunches of folks with great voices. Then comes sweeping in the "I am a prophet" big-haired scary woman who has a Word for everyone. And I mean, that her "Word" for everyone could FIT everyone. Really nothing specific. In my opinion, a Word for an individual should be privately given...that's kind of a common sense manners kind of thing, because you might invoke an emotional response that the receiver may not want to express publicly. So, we're in a circle of people and someone points and declares they have a Word for YOU...and you're trapped like a deer in headlights. So we're sitting there, listening to teaching from the same people, and when you interject a comment or question during the teaching, all the people with their church faces look at you like, "How can you interupt the TEACHING with a THOUGHT?? A COMMENT??" So, I imagine the Holy Spirit sitting there, wanting to add something, but no one is listening for that still, small voice because they are too far away from it, still sitting there...in their little boxes.......

Footprints in the sand......

Larry's response, in case you didn't read it in the comments, follows. He's a very humble guy, one of the reasons I like him. A private guy, who puts his gift right out there OPEN on the beach for everyone to see, to admire...or criticize. It takes strength and trust to do that....all of you creative folk know that when you put your talent out there, you put it out with the chance that you'll be annihilated by someone. So, it's gotta be a God thing!
"*blushing furiously*Hey, folks, it's just sand... but no one else does anything like this. I'm driven by a desire for beauty that runs into a requirement that I leave no tracks.Sand leaves no tracks. The sculpture disappears. But... the sculptor is working in a highly public place. Sand sculpture requires tons of sand and water and there's only one place to find those.It's interesting. Sand sculpture started as an engineering exercise, gradually changed to a design exercise as the engineering became more established, and then became a revealer of something I never thought I'd tangle with: Love.I got saved in 1971, started doing sand sculpture in 1979 while camping with a friend in Maine and then departed from God in about 1982. I kept doing sand sculpture, and when the time was right God brought a man to the beach when I was sculpting.God, sand, love, Jesus. Who'd have thought it. We are fearfully and wonderfully made, as BJK has pointed out today. ~~Larry"

Larry's gifts....

I can't help it...when I see incredible stuff, I have to share. These are just a couple of examples of my much-too-humble blogpal Larry's sand sculpture. You can find links on his blog under sand sculpture on the left, and navigate to find more work. It's simply wonderful.

Larry

I have to comment on this news story: David Sharp, solo climbing on Mt. Everest (stupid, yes) left to die by at least 40 mountaineers so they could continue their climb. They said he was too far gone. This is unbelievable and it's heartening to hear Sir Edmund Hillary speak out about this. He says a climb is not as important as a human life...and of course he's right. There's a lot to this story, but Diane Sawyer asked the age-old question: what would you do? I know what I would have done, and I know what you who are reading this would have done. We'd have stopped and rendered aid and rescue....even if it meant abandoning the climb. The guy with the prosthetic legs that was climbing past Sharp was, in fact, rescued off Mt. E once, at great risk to his rescuers in a snowstorm. That's how he lost his legs. And yet, he gives Sharp some oxygen and moves on. Unbelievable. And, yeah...I'm am SO judgin'.