Photo courtesy of George Hodan Someone recently asked me, “When was the last time you made something from nothing?” At first I was baffled. Based on my understanding, God is the only Being who has created something from nothing. Ex nihilo. Then I got to thinking. When was the last time I watched God produce something in my life I knew I was lacking? Memories came to me, and I decided to share them along with my answer to this question. When my father was diagnosed with brain cancer in January 2009, my parents moved near me so he could be close to our hospital for cancer care and so a son could be nearby. What I didn’t realize at the beginning was how I would be called on to serve as a caregiver in so many ways. I knew nothing about this role and didn’t know how best to help…
I had just bought the utility knife from Home Depot. It was brand-new and razor sharp. Combine that with my inexperience with cutting old carpet from an even older flight of stairs, and you’ve got a recipe for disaster. Always cut away from your body, never toward it, I’d been told. Especially with a knife that’s that sharp. But I forgot. Or wasn’t listening, as sometimes the case may be. The accident happened in a flash. It was so quick, I’m not even sure how I did it. But the cut on the side of my hand was deep, the wound resembling two lips with plenty of blood oozing in between. The cut didn’t even hurt, but I instantly knew this was no Band-Aid-variety wound. Light-headedness prompted by the shock of what I’d just done descended on me for a few minutes. “I’m so sorry,” I said to Kim, my…
It’s weekends like this one, when family and friends observe July Fourth traditions over hamburgers, junk food, and fire crackers, that many of us reflect on those who paid the ultimate price to give us freedom. For me the holiday is also filled with memories of my dad driving my mom, me, and my three siblings to St. Clair, Michigan, to spend the day with his parents, Grandma and Grandpa Blumer, and my many cousins, aunts, and uncles. My grandparents lived at 232 South 9th Street in a tan two-story frame house much like those around it. My dad and his four brothers grew up in this house (wish I had a photo of it). Unfortunately, the place has long since been sold after Grandma Blumer passed away on January 15, 2000, after a stroke at age 87. She knew her Savior and is surely spending days of wonder at…
Over the last week or so, I had the awesome privilege of literally unplugging, grabbing some suitcases, hopping on an Amtrak (California Zephyr) for a first-class family trip to Grand Junction, Colorado, and spending three days touring southwestern Colorado in a rented van. We had a once-in-a-lifetime experience: I got away from my computer for a while; spent some quality time and conversation with my wife, daughters, and in-laws; and enjoyed God’s amazing handiwork manifested in ice-capped mountaintops, plunging canyons, raging rivers, and the stunning genius of His creation. I’ll never forget it. The train was amazing. We ate steak in the dining car (completely spoiled!) and even had a family bedroom (it was tiny but workable). One feature that made the train trip especially memorable was the sightseeing car. This car featured lots of oversize windows (even on the ceiling) and comfy seats facing the windows to afford the most…
