New Times Two

I had agreed to go take some photos where the railroad that is behind my house goes under the freeway. This is for the Mason County Non-Motorized Trail Commitee I'm on.

Just for the record, here's what that looks like. Not too exciting.

But there are some new things to show you. I did walk this section of tracks once long ago, but I wasn't taking pictures. It was so long ago, the freeway wasn't finished, although it was under construction.

There is another Saginaw distance marker. This one is 134 miles. The one behind my house is 130 miles. I'm sort of surprised these are being kept up because the current line, Marquette Rail, no longer connects to Saginaw. Those markers are from when this was main line of the Pere Marquette Railway which was in operation from 1900- 1947.

But far and away, the most interesting thing is those brown lines beside the tracks you can see in the first picture. Here they are again.

This is welded rail sections laid out, I assume for replacement of the regular track. Now this is extremely interesting! I've seen it being laid in New York, but couldn't get pictures as we were going by in a car.

I paced out the sections of rail and they seemed to be about a quarter-mile long. I have looked this up, and that is accurate. But how did they get those long pieces here? They are transported on specially connected flatcars. I'm not sure why they were dropped in bundles of 8.

Anyway, traditional rails are about 39 feet long and are bolted together. Those joints are what makes the "clickity-clack" of the train. However, for heavy loads or high-speed travel, the longer sections are the way to go. These are welded together in place.

Here's a video that shows the whole process of laying these and repairing the track. It's long. But if you just want to see the cars that unload the long rail sections watch from minute 6 to 10.



I sure hope I manage to catch some of the actual work when they put this down.

The other "new" thing is that I am going to switch out my current Scripture verse to keep in mind for my life. My most recent one was for the big NCT hike, and it was II Samuel 22:37- "You provide a broad path for my feet, so that my ankles do not give way."

But I'm going to concentrate on keeping this one in mind now. Isaiah 43:18- “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland."

I love to learn new things. I don't want to get stuck in a rut just because I am getting older. I don't want to let the mistakes of the past weigh me down. I'm going to look forward to however many more years I have to see what new things God has in store for me!

I edited and worked on projects in the morning. The afternoon was filled with errands and bell choir. I did get in some miles with the walk beside the tracks and then all the trails at the Methodist Church and some in the School Forest.

Miles walked in 2026: 96.3

Beside the tracks, then Methodist and School Forest trails, 3.4 miles.

See Marquette Rail

Name a Movie that Changed Your Life

This morning something caught my attention - conversation starter: "Name a movie that changed your life." I had to think about that.

One of the most memorable was the missionary film Through Gates of Splendor. Although it was remade in 1967, the first version came out in 1961 just five years after five missionaries were killed by the Auca indians in Equador.

Of course I had been raised with a succession of missionary speakers who brought slides showing pictures of smiling dark-skinned people. I understood that the message of love and forgiveness had changed them, but it was somehow rather fakey.

But this movie was the real deal. I was in junior high, a time of life when everyone makes some important decisions about the kind of person they are going to be.

Here was real movie footage of naked people (we could hardly believe the church allowed this to be shown, right?) interacting with foreigners for the first time in their lives. It is not a fictionalized account. The camera was recovered and film salvaged from the actual initial encounter.

Here were young husbands and wives with children putting their lives on the line to bring caring and hope to a tribe who had an astronomical murder rate. Other tribes wouldn't even go near them. And the missionaries paid the ultimate price. After the initial friendly contact, the next day the Aucas killed the five men: Jim Eliot, Nate Saint, Ed McCully, Roger Youderain and Pete Fleming. This wasn't the kind of happy missionary story we were used to. This was brutal and demanded that I think about what I was going to be willing to do if God asked something like this of me.

Here's the original movie. It was remade in 1967 with some small additions. You can watch it for free (only 35 minutes long). It is age restricted. I'm including a still shot from the film so there is an image in this post.

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Some of you may know the end of the story. Surviving wife Elisabeth Eliot with young daughter Valerie, and Rachel Saint (sister of Nate) went back to the Auca and in just a few months, God changed their entire culture from one of constant murder to caring and helping.

Two more movies were later made with more of the story. They can both be found on YouTube.

One is Beyond the Gates of Splendor, narrated by Nate Saint's son, Steve.

The other is The End of the Spear, also narrated by Steve Saint. The title has a double meaning, as Steve learns the identity of the tribesman who had killed his father. Mincaye demands that Steve spear him to avenge his father, but Steve forgives the man. This is the dramtic "end of the spear," as the solution to disagreement.

Elisabeth Eliot became noted as a Christian author, often taking a hard stance on obedience and morality. I've always thought she had every right in the world to take such a view, having been "tried in the fire" of personal experience, and she found God's strength sufficient. In the cultures of "Prosperity Gospel" and "God wants us to be happy," she was a voice for higher standards.

Name a movie that changed your life.

See The Staircase

Fencing: Good, Bad, Philosophy

Good: the nylon mesh fencing keeps most of the critters out of my flower beds.

Bad:
#1- I keep tripping on it myself, but have only done one acrobatic fall down the rock garden as a result (one bruise).

#2- It doesn't keep all the animals out. Something grazed its way through the front flower bed two days ago eating half the painted fern and several hostas, including the 'Mouse Ears' that was going to bloom. I suspect a woodchuck found my little opening that allows me access. There is a chipmunk that goes in and out all the time, but it hasn't eaten stuff yet.

#3- Sometimes it catches wildlife that I only wish to deter, not harm. Last week, a 13-lined ground squirrel was caught in it. It was still alive, and I freed it by wrapping it in a towel so I wouldn't get bitten. It "thanked" me by running right back under the fence into the rock garden.

#3 part two- Today, another blue racer (see link below from last year) tried to get through the fence around the front bed. This one was much more unhappy than last year's. It was smaller and feisty. I did get bitten for my troubles before I managed to catch hold of it and snip the nylon.

Doesn't it just look annoyed? Of course this is anthropomorphizing.

It roughed itself up quite a bit, but no blood, so I think it will be OK.

Philosophy: I don't talk about my faith much on this blog, but this opportunity is too good to pass up.

Yes, the snake bit me before I got hold of it (no big deal- no venom, I cleaned it up afterwards). Snakes have good eyesight, and may even see some colors. They smell with their tongues. You have to wonder what I smelled like to it. It probably had never encountered a human that close before.

To me, it smelled like a stressed snake. We used to have pet snakes, and they have a distinctive odor when they are frightened or overheated (this one was probably both).

It certainly saw me as large and threatening as I repeatedly tried to grab it. It couldn't possibly understand that I wanted to help it. Yes, I know there have been stories of sea mammals and other woodland creatures seeking out help from a human, but I doubt that a reptile that isn't a pet could possibly conceive of this scenario.

It knew it was in trouble. It had tried to get through the netting and had, of course, only gotten more tangled. But it did not see me as the solution to the problem. It had only limited understanding of the kind of being I was (warm blooded, but too large to eat- beyond that, who knows?)

From its perspective, this large thing grabbed its neck and prevented it from doing what it wanted to, pressed something cold (but smooth) into the places where it was hurting (which did then stop hurting), lifted it off the safe ground, TALKED to it- what on earth did those noises mean?, and (gently) threw it far away from where it had been trying to go. None of these things could have been processed by a snake as part of its daily survival goals.

Seems like this is a lot like how we sometimes react to God's intervention in our lives. We can't perceive God in any but the foggiest of ways. We don't like it when our attention is diverted from what we think the problem is. We can't understand much of anything God might try to actually say to us. We are livid when our personal plans and goals are altered unexpectedly.

Maybe, just maybe, there is a Being on a level much higher than our own who wants to extricate us from entanglements we can't understand, but we only get frightened and angry when we are "saved" from a danger we weren't fully aware of and sent on a different path.

OK, enough of that. But perhaps you see my point. I did a lot of computer work and editing with some outside tasks. But then it got pretty hot, so I came back to the computer.

See A Welcome Visitor

Good Friday

 I decided to share this and save more about 1993 for another day. Once again, I caught just the last little bit of the walk from Ludington to the church next to us for Good Friday.

This encounter was at the end of my walk to the library. I called to make sure they were open because it was Good Friday. The woman who answered the phone and responded to my question paused just long enough that I was pretty sure she had to think about what in the world "Good Friday" was. There's a statement on our society.

I may have a car on Monday.

Total miles hiked in 2024: 175.3 of which 55.8 is North Country Trail

Oh, and here's the puzzle Cathy and I did last night. 90 min, 500 pieces. It's called Magnificent Ocean. It was fun. It had a number of pieces that were the same shape, but then the picture didn't match, so you had to pay attention. I like this, but Cathy doesn't really.

See Walking with Jesus

Thinking about Adoption

A former President of Youth for Christ, Dan Wolgemuth, writes an essay every Friday that is always thoughtful and interesting. His father was President when we were with YFC, and I went to college with most of his siblings. His mother and I were good friends.

Yesterday, Dan wrote about Joseph. Joseph of the Christmas story. He points out that we are told very little about Joseph. The lineage of Joseph back to King David is given. Even though Joseph was the adoptive father, that heritage was important enough to include in Scripture. In these days of easy DNA testing, perhaps we focus too much on the biological.

Dan makes some interesting statements. He points out that Joseph was the "non-biological father to the son of the most high. He was the bread winner to the bread of life." These statements echo the mystical thoughts in the song "Mary Did You Know?" For example, "This child that you've delivered will soon deliver you." (Also resonating in my thoughts is C.S. Lewis' stable scene in The Last Battle. It's a bunny trail here, but it's in Chapter 13 "How the Dwarves Refused to be Taken In" if you are curious.)

I have no idea about legal documentation in the Roman Empire, but Joseph functionally adopted Jesus. I'm sure the baby was counted in the census which they went to Bethlehem to fulfill. Adoption has a good reputation in the Bible. In fact, there are five times in the New Testament when we are told that we have the status of being adopted by God. In context, these adoptions are contrasted to being slaves and to being "stuck" in physical bodies (perhaps a reference to the fact that as children of God we are spiritual not physical beings). Also, the Jews are promised that they will be redeemed from the law and be adopted. The most general reference is Ephesians 1:5 where we are told that before the foundation of the world we were chosen to be adopted!

I think adoption is one of the ultimate ways in which we are given the opportunity to live in the image of God. God does things that are counter to our human nature. He forgives. He loves with genuine altruism (our love is usually tainted with a least partially selfish motives). He adopts. He elevates us to sons and daughters the second we agree to accept that arrangement. Of course, we can also reject that offer.

I'm not in any way attempting to elevate our family's journey to the same plane as God's adoption. But yet, chosing to become a functional parent, to love a child who does not carry my DNA is one of the ways I've learned so much more about how God loves me.

Before baby Steve joined us, we had this glimpse.



Two years later, we received one bad Polariod picture of Joshua (and his cat) to see what our middle son would look like.

We later received a few pictures of Josh taken in Vietnam.

Dan points out that Joseph was called to live in humility, to be courageous and offer selfless support. Not the role we often desire.

But Dan's phrase that will stick with me the longest is, "None of us will be like Mary. But we can all be like Joseph."

See My Little Squirt is 39 See Joshua Turns 40

Prayer of St. Francis

Today was a little nuts. Marie and I are both tired from hiking, but we drove 3 hours to get to her house. Then we immediately went to an afternoon meeting she couldn't skip. Home, dinner, finally we got to crash.

Her meeting was what some of us Protestants might call a "small group" with an extra level of commitment. There was some communal worship and prayer, discussion and snacks.

No matter what your religious beliefs, I'm sure we can all agree that the words of the prayer ascribed to St. Francis, which we sang, are something to aspire to.

Make me a channel of your peace
Where there is hatred let me bring your love
Where there is injury, your pardon Lord
And where there's doubt, true faith in you

Make me a channel of your peace
Where there's despair in life let me bring hope
Where there is darkness, only light
And where there's sadness ever joy

Oh, master grant that I may never seek
So much to be consoled as to console
To be understood as to understand
To be loved as to love with all my soul

Make me a channel of your peace
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned
In giving to all men that we receive
And in dying that we're born to eternal life.

We are beat. See you tomorrow.

See Truth and Fiction

Like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego

  We are switching campgrounds tonight, although that was not my plan until after lunch today. We're going to Bible Club Camp today. See link below for more of that story if you want.

As you may have figured out, some of the sorting we are doing wasn't high on our priority lists, but the the flood in the basement changed all that. Every single thing had to be moved, and now it has to be put back somewhere or disposed of.

Now I need to back up a lot of years and tell you another story. This was somewhere around 1972 or 1973. One of the teenage boys who lived with us off and on was helping me do some things. I had sorted some stuff (does the sorting ever end?) and had made two piles, one to keep and one to burn. I told Dan to take the discard pile out and burn it. He asked me which pile (they were in another room- the basement, actually), and I said, "You'll be able to tell." Well, that was my mistake, and I've had to blame myself ever since.

To his credit, at one point Dan realized he had the wrong pile and he brought the rest of the items back in the house. But a number of letters and some other things were gone forever. One of the things that was gone was the workbooks from all my years at Bible Club Camp.

These had no intrinsic value except perhaps as curiousities of the era. But they had a lot of sentimental value to me. And they had gone into the burn barrel.

Of course, you've now figured out what happened today. I found the whole set of workbooks. They must have been tucked into these shelves for decades. They were even moved from our old house to this one without being noticed. My innards surely did a leap when I saw what these were.

The books always had the theme song for the year, with the music, in the center. I've looked through the books, and I can still sing several of the songs.

Each book also had pages for the daily Bible lessons, words to other songs we sang, an autograph page, and other things to memorize. The center spread was a sticker page. Each year, you got a sticker each day for completing the Bible lesson and one for learning the daily verse. Then there was a sticker for "things you should know" (like the Apostles Creed or the pledge to the Christian flag), one for completing a camp craft during the week, and one for participating in recreation. That was required, so I suppose everyone got that. If you got all the others, you got the Honor sticker. You know me, I got all the stickers every year. I still like stickers and patches.

I'm sure the actual situation is that these books didn't get burned all those years ago, and somehow I wasn't aware of that. But it sure feels as if they had walked through the fire with those men of faith and Biblical fame.

In other news: I suddenly got the itch to start getting serious about the plot for Vacation from Dead Mule Swamp. This one will take more research than the others if I can pull off the idea I have in mind. At any rate, I wrote a tentative opening and started rereading the book that gave me the general idea. I also did laundry and puttered a little bit.

See Memories from Bible Club Camp

Half an Accomplishment

  I did half of what I hoped to accomplish today, but it was the difficult half. Sue came with her truck and trailer. Can you see what's loaded (picture is confusing with my fiberglass trailer behind it).

Here's the answer- say goodbye to the old lawnmower. It's truly dead and it needed to leave. It didn't owe us anything. We bought it new in 1990.

As we were pulling out of the driveway, something made a very strange noise. Sue hopped out to see what it was, and this is what she found.

It's VERY new. My guess is it was born this morning. The noise or vibration of the truck must have scared it. It bleated repeatedly, then walked a little ways and then settled back down in the long grass. I'm sure mama will find it.

Got my fill of Sophie and Anabelle kisses, and they got to sniff lots of new places.

The other half was supposed to be buying a new lawnmower. So, we went to the store with the trailer... and they are sold out. So I got a raincheck and came home, with no mower.

A HUGE THANK YOU to Sue for helping me move that old mower!

Now here's the amazing part of this story. I've been looking, with no success, for a used lawn tractor for nearly a year. I found nothing that was quite right, and wasn't sure if I did buy one, if the sellers were trustworthy. But, it just doesn't seem too sensible to spend the money on a new one. I can't imagine we are going to be taking care of this house and lawn for another 20 years.

Got home again and immediately, a friend posted on Facebook that they were selling their lawn tractor. I was #2 in line to possibly want it... Just got the word that it's mine!

Some of you will just say "coincidence." I say that this is God taking care of me yet again. PTL!!!

In other news: I did a load of laundry, and am getting ready for my 20-mile walk for World Vision tomorrow. Cut my toenails (no small task- they are so damaged it's a major chore, but Om got me some really good clippers for my birthday and these do allow me to actually cut them instead of just ripping pieces off- thanks Om!), packed up all my stuff- making sure I have things like enough water, enough food, cough drops (for dry throat), and all the other little stuff that just lives in my pack. However, I wanted to make sure I really have everything. If I don't have something for a 5-mile hike, it hardly matters. However, it's much more annoying to be without something for the time it takes to walk 20 miles.

So, tomorrow night, I should be quite tired but happy. See you then! As of right now, people have contributed $1275 toward clean water. I'm pretty much in awe - this is so much more than I could ever have given on my own. You can still give yet tonight or Saturday (tomorrow). See World Vision 6K

See Kisses from Sophie See Wildlife Sanctuary

Walking with Jesus

  There's a song from Sunday School days that I always loved.

Walking with Jesus
Walking every day
Walking all the way.
Walking with Jesus
Walking with Jesus alone.

There's a second part, and when they are sung together they create harmony.

Walking in the sunshine,walking in the shadow
Walking every day
Walking all the way
Walking in the sunshine, walking in the shadow,
Walking with Jesus alone.

There is a local man who has been making a Good Friday walk every year for the past six years. He begins in Ludington and walks eight miles to Scottville bearing a cross (albeit with a wheel).

Anyway, today as I was driving home, I passed him and a small group of people who were walking with him. When I got home, I decided to join the procession. They were just passing my house when I got outside.

Well, much to my embarrassment, they were only walking as far as Our Savior Lutheran Church which is maybe a tenth of a mile from me. Not much of a time of following. The boy beside the Jesus actor walked four miles.

And in this simple misunderstanding of how far they were going is a huge lesson. Those who follow Christ late will receive the same reward as those who follow early.

Sermon over- bottom line... I'm glad I got organized and got out there for even a tenth of a mile. It seemed important somehow. I walk all over the place for my own pleasure, surely I could walk a short distance to identify with Christ.

In other news: I painted for 4.5 hours.

See Easter 2018

The Trees Will Clap Their Hands

 
So today was all about getting the final preparation done for the talk I am giving Sunday on "A Christian Perspective on Caring for the Earth."

As it turns out, the church does not have projection capability, and I'm not ready to try mine with the reloaded operating system on my computer (unless I end up with a whole lot of extra time tomorrow night, which I don't expect). But if they did, I would put all the scripture verses on nice backgrounds. Is this poetry, or a literal description of how creation will rejoice when the Lord comes?

I left this one large so you can click on it to see it bigger if you want.

Background is Cumberland Falls, Kentucky.

Now I have to make sure I know what time I need to be at the Barnes and Noble in Muskegon tomorrow!

	See Light
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The Shroud of Turin- What Do You Think?

 
I'm a bit of a Shroud junkie, if that's not a sacrilegious term. I've read several books on the topic, seen several specially produced programs, and even got to see the traveling exhibit that came to the United States about 1993 or 1994. It included a replica of the cloth and a lot of various photos and interpretive displays.

However, I had not seen this program, produced by the BBC in 2011. It's very impartial and fascinating, and I learned a couple of new things about the Shroud. (It's an hour long, but worth it if the topic interests you.)



My faith does not in any way depend on whether this piece of fabric is the genuine burial cloth of Jesus. And yet, wouldn't it be something if it really were?

All of the forensic science that we've come to associate with modern detection might eventually force the conclusion to be drawn that this is from a genuine, first century, Roman crucifixion. I suppose one couldn't scientifically prove who was wrapped in it. And yet, we easily accept other types of evidence for other historical figures.

And the mystery remains- no one yet has come up with a possible hypothesis for how the image could have been forged.

Don't misinterpret what I'm saying. I don't need artifacts from the crucifixion or other relics to bolster what I believe. But simple logic dictates that some must exist.

Spent most of the day editing the next Anastasia Raven book. Off to work soon.

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Jehovah Jirah

 



This is all

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If the Path Is Straight

 
If the path is straight, you can be sure it is artificial.



And here's my philosophical rant for the day. I made time to go for a hike this afternoon. The trail follows a piece of old logging rail bed for a short distance. You can tell in an instant that this was arranged by humans.

This section of pathway looks much more natural, curving around between the trees.



I got to thinking about straight and meandering trails. We'd like our life's pathways to be straight and level. No bumps, no unseen dangers around the next bend, certainly no mountains to climb. But if we are out hiking, we'd quickly consider that boring, even poor trail design.

Yet, we ask God all the time to make our lives straight and level. But God says... that's only the way humans design paths. I don't promise easy trails. I do promise to be there with you on the journey and to provide a worthy destination.

I concluded my time in the woods by spontaneously singing "I know where I'm going, and I know who's going with me."

Enjoy some other images from the hike.

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Tirzah Grows Up

 
Meet Tirzah. She's the one in the purple shirt directing big brother Micah and little sister Jael in a game of some sort. We went to the same church as their family and were even in the same home group. But time marches on. They left because her dad became pastor of a small church near where they live. We changed churches too.



It's not like either family moved away; we still ran into each other occasionally, but weren't as close as we had been. Tirzah turns 15 this week, and she just returned from a two-week mission trip to Zambia. There was a lunch and then a time when she (and another girl who went on the same trip) shared about their experiences.



They sure grow up fast! Here is 2003, and 2013.

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Attention! Draw Your Swords!

 
Some of you will know where this is going, just from the title. The rest of you will have to wait and wonder.

I have to share one unrelated picture before starting my story, just because it's so great. This is the dining hall as I remember it. It comes from the LeTourneau Christian Camp website, but it might have been plucked right from my memory banks with one exception. Meals for 150 kids were all family style- once they got us seated we stayed there, with the exception of one designated runner from each table who could go get refills.



Each evening there was a meeting in the Tabernacle. The campground was built on the style of many of the great camp meeting houses of the era. It was designed for summer use- all wood, no insulation, with wooden benches. They had backs, but they weren't dignified enough to be called pews. I can't remember if the building had a cement or sawdust floor. Here is a picture of the inside, filled with people, that I found at the website.



Each evening all us kids filed into the Tabernacle at 7 pm. There always seemed to be extra adults who came too, but we didn't pay any attention to them! Each year there was a different theme for the week. Each camper had a booklet. About half of the book was words to songs, and one page had both words and music to the theme song of the week. We began the evening by singing the theme song and a lot of other songs as well. There was always something special. It might be special music of some kind. This was a bit early for even Christian camps to accept guitars, but the organist played a little more like roller rink than choir anthem style. We loved it! Sometimes someone played a trumpet or other instrument.

My favorite special events were the chalk talks. If you are under 50 and weren't brought up in church you probably have no clue what I'm talking about. They were like the digital media light shows for the 1950s (and earlier). An artist would place an easel on stage and begin drawing a picture with huge chunks of colored chalk, while telling a story (that always had a spiritual moral, of course). At the end of the talk, the picture would appear to be done, but then... the artist would turn on a blacklight (ordinary people didn't even know what they were called back then), and the picture would magically transform to something else: maybe a deer in the woods at sunset, maybe Jesus returning in the clouds. I was fascinated, and always tried to improve my skills at watching the strokes that didn't seem to accomplish anything to see if I could figure out the secret picture before it was revealed.

In our workbooks there were also pages to fill in for the required Bible lessons of the week, and a centerfold page with a picture which could be brought to life with stickers which you earned for completing lessons, learning verses, etc. I always got all the stickers.

Which brings me to the point of this post. I liked to win. In fact, if I had to characterize my personal view, as a child, of what other people were for, it was so I could have someone to beat. Pretty much at anything. I know, not a great attitude. But there it was. That was me back then. Each year, as part of the evening program there was a Sword Drill. The winner each evening competed on the last night to be the all-camp winner.

OK, OK, I'll explain a Sword Drill. Each person has a Bible. The leader says, "Attention!" Everyone gets ready and focuses on the leader. It's like "on your mark." Then the leader says, "Draw Your Swords!" At this command everyone lifts their Bible high in the air. No cheating! Get that arm all the way up.

Then the leader says a Scripture reference, like "John 3:16." Except they would never use a verse that virtually everyone should know by heart. Everyone repeats the reference back to the leader in unison. Then comes the pregnant pause. It's like not knowing how long Nick Cannon will take to reveal which act made it through the voting on America's Got Talent. But you have to concentrate. Eventually, the leader says, "Charge!"

On that command, each person whips his or her Bible open hunting for that verse. When you have it you leap to your feet and begin reading it, loudly. Don't stand up before you have it or you'll look silly at best, or maybe get called for a foul. There were usually spotters to judge who was first, in case things got close.

When there were several individual winners those people would have a play off. Sometimes it was sudden death, and sometimes the last one to get the verse would have to drop out until there were just two people head to head. At Bible Club camp we did the latter.

There was one boy... his family was somehow part of the leadership. He won every year. I wanted to change that. Really bad. I no longer remember which year it was. If I had to guess, I'd say 1960. I won one of the evening Sword Drills. Yes! That put me in the playoff on Friday night.

For the playoff, there was no balancing our Bibles on our knees. We nightly winners stood on the stage, in front of everyone and flipped pages based on our knowledge of the location of books in the Bible. Finally, there was no one left on the stage except me and that boy. I remember he was older than I was, and was wearing a suit. I'm sure I was wearing a dress. Girls probably had to for meetings.

Attention! Draw your swords! Ruth 2:15. "Ruth 2:15," we said, and then waited with sweaty palms and shaking knees. I knew my Bible books, no problem there. But could I get there faster than my rival? "Joshua, Judges, Ruth. Just after the Pentateuch," I thought. I knew right where to go.

Charge! I opened my Bible and flipped over a couple of pages, "And when she was risen up to glean, Boaz commanded his young men, saying, Let her glean even among the sheaves, and reproach her not:"

I had won. The all-camp Sword Drill. Whatever his name was politely congratulated me. He said he hadn't even known where the book of Ruth was. I was stunned at his lack of knowledge and his willingness to actually admit it. And what did I win? You can see for yourself.



It was in better shape 50 years ago. And all-wool felt is susceptible to moth damage. No matter, I was the winner that year. I was in better shape then too, but I think I've improved in some ways. I no longer HAVE to be the winner to be happy. But I can still say the Bible books in order.

	See Memories from Bible Club Camp
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