Eclipsed

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A fire engine and a tank truck screamed as they threaded their way through town. We watched, like everyone else, and wondered what emergency they were going to help.

The day dawned bright and beautiful after a rainy, windy night. What a day to take a drive! We were meandering through West Virginia to see the fall leaves at their peak. The gold and russet leaves shown against the blue sky with scattered puffy, white clouds. In the afternoon, after our snack, we headed back towards home.

We stopped at the first overlook we came to, hoping  for a  few more pictures of  leaves and sky. What we saw was not what we expected. At the end of the parking lot were the fire trucks we had seen rushing through town. The firemen were taking one last look and getting back in their trucks to return to their station.

There, in a huge puddle of water, sat the burned out hull of a Mitsubishi Eclipse. The air was still acrid with the smoke. We got out of our car and in hushed awe saw the total destruction of that car. I snapped a few pictures, just so I would know I hadn’t dreamed the awful scene.

He was driving his newly bought car while his friend followed in his car. He saw some smoke wisps and decided to pull off at the overlook. He parked and got out to see what was happening. His buddy pulled up just as they saw little flames lick at the pavement. He jumped into his friend’s car and they drove to the other end of the parking lot and called 911. Before the fire trucks had arrived the whole car was engulfed in flames.

As they poured out their story, I said, “I hope you thank God for saving your life!” They assured me they did. They said they were so thankful they had stopped to see what was smoking.

Two shaken young men drove away from that scenic overlook. We were reminded of how important it is to pay attention to the nudges God gives us so our lives are not eclipsed before their time.

Gangsta?

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We arrived at the Social Security Office 20 minutes early hoping to avoid a long line.  Only two young, African-American men were in line ahead of us. These two young men talked quietly with each other.

The first of the young men was quite over-weight, dressed in jeans, and a tee shirt. It was the other fellow who really caught my attention. He was tall, well-built and tattooed. He sported a sideways baseball cap and seemed unconcerned that his jeans  looked in imminent  danger of dropping off! He seemed restless and took a walk to the edge of the property to smoke.

When he returned, in a strong  voice he said, “Obama, who is he? Chicago, where’s that? Now Bush, he was good. He had the nerve (my word replacing his) to fight those who hurt us!”

I tried not to act as surprised as I was by his comments. Judging by his clothes, his manner, and my assumptions these were the most amazing comments this young man could have made.

More people joined our line, the door opened, and we all filed in.

We had to stop at a computer and push buttons to say why were were there, type in our social security number and answer some other questions.

The first fellow typed in his information, got his ticket, and went to sit down to wait. The second young man surprised me again when he stood before the machine, squinted, leaned down close, and said loudly, “Oh no, I forgot my glasses.”

My husband offered him his glasses which he accepted readily and said they helped some. When it got to the other questions, he answered, “Yes,” when asked if he was blind.

The last of the surprises was when he was told that he now owed the Social Security money since he has earned money that he had not reported, he was quiet and respectful with the agent.

This young man who looked the ‘gangsta’ type, turned out to be a polite, visually challenged, political conservative. I went away reminded to not judge by outward appearance and to pray that many more young, African-Americans become informed and willing to speak their minds and surprise a lot of other people.

(October, 2013)

Mr. Jones

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A soft-spoken man stopped by our booth in McDonalds to offer us the newspaper he had finished reading. We looked up to see a casually dressed man who reminded us of Herman Cain. We thanked him and he walked on. A few minutes later he returned and we struck up a conversation.

Almost two hours later we said good bye to this intensely interesting man.

We learned that he is a professor at the local community college teaching Western Civilization. He told us that many of his students are not ready for college. They didn’t learn to study in high school and were not motivated to learn. Many are the younger siblings of high achieving brothers or sisters. Their grasp of basic history and their reading skills are poor. He uses a thick textbook with many beautifully colored pictures, not like the textbooks we had in our college. Using movies and lots of graphics seems to be the only way to keep their attention. Straight lecturing will not work any more.

The students want good grades yet don’t want to do the work for them. He fears how they will ever succeed in life. Some of their parents still maintain dreams of these students becoming doctors and lawyers or another Steve Jobs. Even the college administrators pressure the profs to pass as many students as possible. We could see his disappointment, yet he strives to find a way to pass on his passion to the next generation.

Our conversation meandered from the current debt ceiling crisis to Greco-Roman government and from his Baptist church in a nearby suburb to missions in villages in Nigeria. The Reformation and modern Islam were part of the discussion. He knew so many interesting details about historical figures and had taught the grandchildren and nieces and nephews of famous people.

I never thought of myself as a good history student. I have always felt that area of my education was lacking. Yet while he named people who changed the course of civilization and different periods of history and the flow of development and types of governments, I had hooks to hang new information on. I did not feel left out of the conversation, but rather enticed to learn more. I would love to hear him teach.

Two hours flew by and our lives were enriched by the encounter.

Thank you, Mr. Jones

(October 2013 in Strasburg, Virginia)

Diane Beth

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I’ve been wanting to capture pictures of people for most of the time I’ve been practicing art (since 2018). I’ve practiced sketching, use of color, and finally watercolor. I’ve enjoyed learning and practicing all the different techniques. Periodically, I’d practice some facial features in graphite. I’ve done a few graphite sketches of people. But before doing any more portrait work, if felt it was only fair to do my own.

Anna Mason challenged her students to try painting a self portrait. I know the value of doing a graphite sketch before a watercolor painting. It’s a great way to study the details before using paint that can not be erased.

My greatest desire in sharing my art is that those who see it are encouraged to use any of their talents to share their faith in our Creator God!

Purple Crocus Group

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Purple Crocus Group

The Purple Crocus was a different kind of challenge. Most Crocus pictures are taken from their side so you can see their cup-like shape. But this was a tight cluster of flowers and Mike got this beautiful shot straight down on them. I used them as a chance to sketch and not trace their outlines. I mixed the colors and loved painting these blooms. When I was close to finished, I wasn’t quite satisfied. I loved the composition and the colors, but something was ‘off’. Mike thought so too. We compared it to the photo, and it was true enough to that. Then it dawned on us what the problem was. Because it looked straight down on the flowers it was not possible to show the cup shape. But I like it as a fresh, pretty illustration, even with or because of its limitations.

My thoughts on this relate to how we see our challenges. Maybe we just need to step back and see it from a different perspective. Seen that way, maybe it can be pleasing in a different way. I see ‘tragedy’ in the lives of a couple people close to me. But when we step back from the shock of these circumstances, we can see the ‘beauty’ of what God is doing. We see new relationships, the strength given by the prayers of many, release of burdens carried for a long time now shared with others, and God’s great comfort. Let’s look for new perspectives.