Taking Hebron

One morning the other week I was watching my siblings and I let them play Play-doh. Such a messy activity is done in the garage and stretches three tables long! As it got closer to lunch I told the kids they needed to start cleaning up. After most of the toys had been put back in the bin, I brushed Benjamin (3) off and took him inside, knowing he wasn't likely to be very helpful in the sweeping up of the crumbs. I instructed him that he had to stay inside now and play.  I had the garage door propped open so I could keep an eye on the clean up while working in the kitchen to prepare lunch.  Benjamin found a toy and then headed for the garage door. I kept an eye on him but he did not go out. Instead he lay down on the rug and over the threshold. Then with his arms stretched out into the garage he played with his toy in the air. He knew he could not go out, but he longed to be with the other kids so much he got as close as he could! I smiled at the cuteness and then in th

Free  not under the control of some other person...  -Websters Dictionary It is that time again... Presidential Election. Political survey calls come in every evening to interrupt our daily routine, our mailbox is a little fuller as flyers show off the most displeasing picture they could find of the candidates they are against, and neighborhood streets suddenly look like freeways as front lawns are filled with so many mini-billboards telling us who to vote for. Some people love this time, like the Olympics! Every four years they get to get all fired up, to argue and share their views. Others simply tolerate this barrage of information and are relieved when it's finally over. Today a man wanted to get into a discussion with my sister and I over the presidential candidates. We simply smiled at his baited question that my dad gave a simple reply to. When my sister and I continued to say nothing the man knew it was a closed subject. I avoid talking politics. I do

This morning I was reading a book and the writer was considering the nature of a fiddle. He contemplated at how fiddles don't have eyes. Thus they need not worry about appearance and don't mind being small. He also noted that they don't have ears. That music for them is not about sound or being heard. Finally he pointed out their emptiness. Though hollowed out their very purpose is found in their emptiness. For if they were to fill themselves with anything they would no longer resonate the song of the fiddler. As I closed the book this morning I felt as though I had just partaken in some kind of deep theological Bible class with a very off the wall instructor, yet somehow in this seemingly random reflection of his I was drawn myself to reflect upon the same. So on my morning walk that followed I sought the Lord on this topic and He showed me His truth. I once was a fiddle so full of my own dreams, fears, desires, and worries I could not fulfill my purpose. The son