Interconnectedness...

   After I wrote the word out in the title of this post, I thought, "that is really one long word." But I should explain why I used it.

   The world is full of people. Somewhere in that crowd of faces is someone you may be connected with. It just takes a few questions, or comments, and that connection is made.

   We were at the funeral home yesterday afternoon. My wife's brother's wife had passed away, the rest of Mayre's family had already died in previous years, and this lady was the last one of that generation.

   Peggy, the recently deceased sister-in-law, had 4 children. The two boys had already died, and the two girls were there with us. One of the daughters had two sons, both of whom were in attendance. In talking with one of the boys (not really a boy..he was turning 40 shortly), he mentioned that he was about to get married.

   The girl had not gotten to the funeral home yet, so we asked him a little about her and how they met. He replied that she was from Canada, and was a master's student at the local university. Some other folks, who were mutual friends of both boy and girl, had suggested to each of them that they ought to meet. The rest is history.

   I'm not sure how all of this works in with the six degrees of separation theory, but here is the interesting part.

   When the girl arrived, we got to talking about where she was from and her life to this point. She mentioned that her father had been living in this city for some time, and that was how she got to that college. When she mentioned his name, we recognized it immediately as the name of a pilot Mayre knew from the small airport where she flew. It was the same man.

   Not only did we know her father, but Mayre had sold him an airplane she owned, and delivered it to him up in Ohio way back when. He also lived not far from us, and we had visited in his home before we moved farther south.

   All of a sudden we had that connection to a girl that we had not known even existed before that afternoon.

   And possibly even stranger was the fact of her employment. She worked for a local insurance company, and, just a few hours before, we had eaten lunch with a friend who also flew out of that local airport back when Mayre was there, but now was a pilot for that same insurance company.

   A small world.

 

 

We Met This Guy…And He Was Good

   Mayre and I were out the other day, over in Brunswick, at a car dealership, looking around at the used cars. There was a reason.

   Our present car had about 140,000 miles on it, and, although it had been pretty good to us, it was beginning to give signals that there were problems down the road. A balky sensor would beep at us on occasion that the oil pressure was low, and we had better stop immediately to shut it off.

   Well, after we obeyed the command, we would start it again, and it would proceed to run well for another few months. We had it checked and it was determined that the sensor for that function was at fault, and not the engine, so we let it go and put up with the occasional warning light and sound.

   But there was the bumping sound in the rear end and that temperature gauge that would shoot up and then settle down into normal. Little things perhaps, but possibly the sign of future problems that my bank account did not really want to deal with.

   So, here we were, getting out of our car at the dealership, being met by a salesman, not just any salesperson, but a very young one, a teenager really, one that looked like he should be on the bus to high school. "I've got grandchildren older than this, so how could he tell me about cars and steer me to the right one for us?"

   Not only did he know his automobiles, but as we rode around with him and talked, we found he had a story. a remarkable one from our viewpoint, and one that we grew to appreciate.

   You see, he was the oldest of 4, the son of parents who were a little dysfunctional to say the least. One of them was in prison, the other not able to care for them, and these kids had been shuttled around southeast Georgia for a few years.

   This boy that we were talking with had been raised in a Georgia Baptist Children's Home, had lived in at least 4 counties, gone to schools all over, and was being helped by a grandmother. He was also the man of the house, trying to help with the raising of his 3 younger siblings while earning enough to help the family survive.

   How in the world did he get a job selling cars at this auto dealership at his age? In speaking with his manager, I found that he had so impressed him with his story and work ethic, as evident in what he had been able to do over the past few years, that he gave him a chance to succeed there.

   He had only been at this job for a few months, but his attitude and knowledge impressed us.

   There are so many stories out there of kids in trouble with the law, of teens addicted to all kinds of stuff, that this young man was a breath of fresh air.

   Thanks Preston, for giving us faith in a younger generation, who, in the midst of trials, with God's help, can be on the path to a successful and productive life. Your story of faith and perseverance is amazing, and we are privileged to know you.

   And we like the car, too.

One Very Important Question..

   I have enjoyed reading the comments people left me after the post on finishing the courthouse tour and the pictures that accompanied that venture. Read it here if you have not:

http://walkinganewpath-pilgrim.blogspot.com/2015/01/four-years-five-months-five-daysmore-or.html

   But there was one troubling question that kept popping up in those words of encouragement:

   What are you going to do with all of those pictures and stories?

   I've got basically two sets of pictures in this 160 item photo file:

   Pictures of Courthouses that are still in use today. Those are active buildings, still serving as the official county seat of their county. Like this one in Early County.

   Then I have old buildings, such as this one in Baker County, that once served as the courthouse but now has been replaced by a newer structure. In most cases the buildings are used by another entity of that county or by a historical society.

   This one in Baker presently houses the Library.

   The other question that kept coming up was, "why don't you publish something on this?"

   That gets me to thinking of the 5 "W" Questions we were taught to ask in school.

   Who, What, When, Where and Why

   WHAT: What kind of book? What pictures and stories to use? All or a selected portion?

   WHO:   Who would want it? Who would it be targeted toward?

   WHEN: Do it now?

   WHERE: What are the logistics in getting a project like this under way and finished?

   And, it seems to me, the most important question starts with WHY: Why do it anyway? Will it do any good for anyone? Is it just an ego trip for the author?

   So, just a lot of questions, practical, logistical and motivational, but the most pressing one is the one hardest to answer: WHY?

 

 

Wherever We Are In Life...

   I read these words in Psalm 37 today:

"Commit your future to the Lord!
Trust in him, and he will act on your behalf.
6 He will vindicate you in broad daylight,
and publicly defend your just cause.
7 Wait patiently for the Lord!
Wait confidently for him!"

   I know of a recent college graduate looking for a job in the "big city". These are words that you can live by, especially when you just don't know.

   I know of a family that is waiting for one that is a mother, grandmother or great grandmother to them to pass out of this life to the next. They are all in limbo, waiting and wondering.

   The verses beg the question:

   WHY

   Why should I commit the future to God?

   Why should I wait patiently and confidently for Him?

   Because He Cares

Woody Fails To Show...

   Yesterday, on my early morning walk, I spotted a white form across the pond, walking slowly in the water along the bank. Every once in a while, he, or she, would stop and lower his beak down into the water and wait for a few seconds before moving on.

   I thought from the size that it was a wood stork, as I had seen a couple of them in that area over the past few days.

   But it was pretty dark. I could barely see the big bird in the shadows. How in the world could he see anything in that murky water? It did not appear to be a profitable venture in that before-dawn light.

   So I went back home and Googled him, finding out that wood storks, a lot of the time, just put their open beaks down into the water and wait for small fish to swim by and stir the water. Then they snap them shut and, breakfast.

   But Woody was not evident this morning. I had carried my camera and was ready to catch him in the act. What had happened?

   It was pretty early, about the same time I had been out yesterday.

   The only things on the water were reflections.

   Maybe he had noticed the sign.

   Perhaps he was hiding out in the marsh fog, shyly waiting for me to leave.

   Regardless, he was a no-show, and I had to use a stock picture from the Internet to chronicle the story.

   And I learned something about a big bird's fishing occupation.

   God has made some interesting characters, and some of them live around here.

Four Years, Five Months, Five Days..More or Less

   August 12, 2010, my wife and I took a short trip down I-95 to Kingsland, the county seat of Camden County, Georgia to take a picture of the courthouse.

   That began a multi-year odyssey to take photographs of all 159 county courthouses in the state. What began when Mayre read a story in the paper of a man who roamed the United States looking at old buildings and chronicling them on film, turned into a many mile quest to locate and picture these structures in our state.

   January 17, 2015 found us in the middle of downtown Atlanta. I guess this is fitting since we were so close to the Georgia State Capital building. We had come full circle, from a small town in southeast Georgia to the largest city of the largest county in our state; from one of the smaller courthouses to the largest.

   But we had stood in front of, and walked around 160 courthouses, taking pictures, looking at monuments, reading inscriptions, going inside, talking to people and soaking up the atmosphere to all these places.

   A quick note on the 160 figure since there are only 159 counties:

   There were two counties that ceased to exist when they both merged into Fulton County. On our last trip, two days before we stood before our last remaining courthouse, we passed through the town of Fairburn and found the 1871 building that had served Campbell County until it merged with Fulton in 1932.

   If there was a courthouse in Alpharetta, the county seat of the other merging county, Milton County, I have not been able to determine or locate. Perhaps there is another hidden gem, but for now 160 is the number.

   It has been a journey, but a fun one, and it has been a mutual effort. Sure, I have taken all the pictures, but Mayre has been with me to every one; keeping a lookout for the right places, reading maps, passing me lunch as we drove, and most of all, encouraging me to finish the project when it seemed to drag on and on. We have had a lot of fun, and it was always together. For that I am thankful.

   We have photographed the Hancock County courthouse in Sparta, just months before it burned.

   We have visited the Schley County courthouse in Ellaville, finding out how to pronounce the name and getting tour from a gracious lady who just happened to be the Probate Judge.

   And we have been in old buildings, once courthouses, but now museums or home to various Historical Societies, such as the one in Union County in Blairsville.

   Many buildings, many stories and many memories…

   And I'm sure several of these will find their way into this blog one day.

   We thank God for this opportunity, and only have one question:

   What next?

Car Trouble or Not?

   As we ate breakfast last Thursday morning, in preparation for a 3 day adventure north, I said the obligatory prayer for travelers, "Keep us safe and be with us as we go."

   "Ok, that should put us in good shape, we've covered all the bases."

   As we traveled north toward our first stop, the cloudy skies began to mist and drip. The closer we got to the first place, it came harder. We were out to get some more courthouses, and taking pictures in the rain is not my favorite. But the car was running well, and maybe the rain would slack off.

  Well, we got 5 courthouses that day and were on the way to Marietta to check into the motel when I noticed the engine temperature was beginning to edge up. I had replaced the water pump a year or so ago and recognized the signals. I kept a close eye on the gauge, and it retreated to the normal position, only to jump up again. What will I do now and more importantly, what will I do in the morning as we were headed up into the North Georgia mountains to get 4 more counties?

   I honestly did not know what I was going to do. We needed to make this trip since we were up here, so I looked at my options:

   1. Take a chance and leave in the morning on schedule and watch the gauge…

   2. Look for a repair place in a strange town, and see if I had a problem…

   3. Pray…

   I had not even told my wife about the errant gauge as it had settled back into normal before we got to the motel.

   But did I ever pray. I wanted to get on our way. We had photographed 6 courthouses our first day out, but still had 9 more to go.

   First of all I prayed for wisdom as to what to do. I did this several times, in fact it was all I could think about that evening.

   Deciding that I would see what it looked like in the morning, I went to sleep praying for me, for the car, and the next day.

   Then came the morning. Loading the car I continue to question myself and pray for that 2007 car with 135,000 miles on it.

   It started fine, and the gauge edged up to the normal spot and stayed there. OK so far, and as we pulled out and began the trip north, I prayed for help.

   I must have looked at that temperature 50 times in the first 5 miles, and it just stood there, like it was stuck in normal. I also must have said "Thank You" that many times, every time I got through glancing at it.

   The weather was beautiful, the road was 4 lanes, the traffic was light, it was a great day. My reaction: drive, glance, say thanks, and do it again in a minute or two. That way all the way to Blue Ridge, GA, 40 miles north of last night's stop.

   But then we had more mountains, some of it traveled on 2 lane roads. So it was Blairsville, Hiawassie, and Clayton, and it was still normal and "thanks".

   Long story short, we made 7 courthouses that day, had a great day, and pulled into the motel in Commerce with a normal temperature. I don't know the problem, but both Friday and Saturday were filled with normal and my wife was happy.  I was tired.

   My stock phrase "It will all work out" still sounded good, but I realized that Thursday night and all up into the day on Friday, I had not lived up to that "cool" saying. I was worried, and I prayed, a lot.

   I think I will spend more time praying, before I get into that kind of spot again. Maybe I can say with confidence that God is in control and not worry so much about it.

   It did get my attention!

   I try to leave my car out of courthouse photographs, but here it is in front of the old 1825 building in Fayetteville, GA, county seat of Fayette County. Sitting in the front seat is a woman who is not worried, mainly because she does not know….

   But God and I did...

Why Fritter Anyway?

   What is wasting time?

   When I talked about "frittern", I got to thinking about the things that I do that take my time. I like to read, work puzzles, work on photography, play tennis and golf, ride my bike in good weather, and watch some TV. I am even liking cooking and working in the kitchen these days.

   Are any or all of these to be considered wasting time? What is the definition of wasting time anyway?

   Is putting together jigsaw puzzles one of those "frittern" things?

   Now my wife gave me a new puzzle, pictured above, 1,000 pieces, showing a lot of different book covers. It has many pieces, and also a lot of ways to use the words to match up with those pictures used for the cover art. It was fun, but also time consuming.

   My wife knows that I like puzzles. Now, it would not be nice of me to just put that box back into the closet and forget to put it together, would it? A gift not used shows non appreciation and could hurt the giver's feelings. I would not want that for sure.

   But is there a reason why I do all these things? Is it just because I need something to fill the days, or something to keep my mind occupied?

   I read this in Psalm 119 this morning:

"If only I were predisposed
to keep your statutes!
6 Then I would not be ashamed,
if I were focused on all your commands.
7 I will give you sincere thanks,
when I learn your just regulations.
8 I will keep your statutes.
Do not completely abandon me!"

   The psalmist bemoans his incomplete dedication to God's Law and closes with the request, "Do not completely abandon me". It sounds as if he is saying, "Look, I'm trying, God, don't give up on me", which is the way I feel sometimes.

   There is also the sense that if somehow I can keep my mind and body active, I will not atrophy into a man that is completely worthless to God or to someone else.

   So, what may look like "frittern" to you may be my attempt to hang on to a sense of worth and be ready when there are things God calls me to do in this stage of my life.

   Please don't judge my use of time too harshly…it may just be my mental and physical exercise routine.

Don't Be Frittern, The Clock Is Running

   Our pastor stood on the stage yesterday morning and spoke these words:

   "The average lifespan of an American today in 2015 has been determined as 77.5 years". Then he asked all in that early service to stand whose age was over that figure, and a few of us stood. Then his words:

   "Congratulations, you are above the average, and that is a good thing, but the other side of that is the fact that you are living on borrowed time."

   I'm not sure of the exact figure for this average. I looked it up on Google and found a whole range of figures for the average life expectancy, but it does make a valid point the way he used it.

   Is it something to be proud of, that you have lived above the average time of life? Is it not the kind of life you have lived, and not its length? At this point in the life cycle is it not more important what I do with the rest of my allotted time that matters? Is that not true for all of us?

   In the Book of Esther, Esther is told by her uncle, in Chapter 4:

"If you keep quiet at this time, liberation and protection for the Jews will appear from another source, while you and your father’s household perish. It may very well be that you have achieved royal status for such a time as this!”

   It is no accident that I am living today. It is not just the luck of the draw. There is a reason.

   Right after our pastor made these opening remarks, he asked the 30 minute clock to be put on the screen and it began counting down from that point, so that all in the congregation could see the passage of time as he spoke.

   If you want to see the whole thing go to: http://sscclive.com and click on the archive.

   It was a visual reminder of the continual, everlasting, momentum of time, the time that each of us have, but we do not have the knowledge of when that clock will stop for each individual. As he finished his message, and we watched the clock move down to :00, he stated that he was through, his time was up, and he walked back to his seat.

   All of us, young and old, have an allotted time, and we know not when it is set to expire. We are called to use it for God and not waste it. We all have clocks that tell us the time, but only God knows when the battery will give out.

   Wherever we are and whatever situations we are placed into, the times are in His hands.

   I think of the folks in River City, Iowa, as the Music Man, Prof. Harold Hill, tells them about the time their kids will be wasting because of the pool table in their community:

"And all week long your River City
Youth'll be frittern away, 
I say your young men'll be frittern!
Frittern away their noontime, suppertime, choretime too!

   None of us need to be "frittern".

   We are on the clock.

Rock When It Is Needed...

   I like to write. That is not a problem for me, but at times I struggle to find something worthwhile to say.

   I like for people to know I am Christian. I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

   But sometimes ideas do not come, and I feel failure. It seems I should always be able to sit down with my Bible readings and find a gem that would speak to someone else, or at least me, and one I can share.

   When I can't, or don't, my self worth takes a hit. After all I do not have a lot of stuff that I absolutely have to accomplish. Retirement is not a string of high expectations and high achievements. But I do want to do something well and that something ought to benefit someone else besides my own ego.

   So as I pondered this morning, "what on earth could I write about?",  I ran across a blog that hit me right where it hurts. It proclaimed "You have limitations" and this short sentence seemed to call my name.

   Here is a portion of that pastor's blog as he speaks to himself:

"You are an amazing person but, no, you can’t do everything. You have limitations. Those do not make you less of a person. They simply define what you should be focused on. Accepting your limitations doesn’t make you a failure, it makes you well defined. Focus on what you can do, and do it well.” 

   It seemed to say, "the world is not sitting waiting expectantly for your next words of wisdom, you don't have to strain to do your writing, let it come and use what God has given you, not more and not less".

   I wrote back in December about our grandson over in Arkansas that is autistic. The gist of that blog was that I should focus on what he can do and not what he cannot.

   Perhaps I should apply that to my life as well. 

   No excuses, just honest appraisal and doing your best in what you find.

   Rockers are meant to be used at the proper time.

   If anyone wants to read the pastor's blog mentioned above:

   http://natepyle.com/no-you-cant-do-everything/#sthash.rUFqXbLL.dpbs

   

It's Colder Somewhere Else

   Our weather is colder this morning. The weather report is 26 degrees with a wind chill of 15, and it was definitely much different than the early morning yesterday.

   Yesterday at lunch we sat outside on the back porch of our condo, in shirt sleeves, soaking up the sunshine and even closing our eyes and resting there for a few minutes.

   Today, for breakfast, we are preparing to eat a hot bowl of oatmeal, and the porch is empty of humans.

   The verse that I read this morning from Psalm 118 (NET Bible)

"This is the day the Lord has brought about.
We will be happy and rejoice in it."

   It sure was easier to quote this and see how good God is on yesterday, but I know that God did not change in 24 hours, and that the verse is no less true right now than it was then.

   Can it be that I can still say with conviction that this too is the day that He has made, and can I be happy and rejoice in it?

   Sure, I can do that anytime, and especially when I look at the weather report where we lived before and see that the wind chill is minus 6.

   And I can think of those kids in the one room school houses in Montana who have recess outside on any day that the temperature is above zero.

   And, not only that, but I know I am blessed, every day, no matter the weather or outside circumstances.

   And I am thankful...

Go Ahead, Juxtapose

   Is there ever a word that we read, we kinda know its meaning, but are never quite sure we get it right, and have to always look it up to be sure. A word that is like that for me is juxtaposition.

              juxtaposition

   The online dictionary defines it thusly:

an act or instance of placing close together or side by side, especiallyfor comparison or contrast. or

the state of being close together or side by side.

   I thought of that as I was reading this morning. A verse from Psalm 115:

                     O Israel, trust in the Lord!
                     He is their deliverer and protector.

   The Psalmist is speaking of Israel, God's chosen people, but as we read it in New Testament times it can refer to anyone that God calls His, so it can be a promise to Christians as well.

   I wrote Monday about the new book I had received for Christmas, a book about one room schoolhouses in Montana. I have not finished reading the whole book, mainly because I get caught up in the pictures, but I have run into at least two instances where the schools are connected to a Hutterite colony.

   Way back in the recesses of my mind, I know I have heard this name, but there my knowledge ended. So I looked it up and read of the Anabaptist people, German speaking, originally from Moravia in Austrian Europe, who came to the US and Canada to escape persecution and settled mainly in the areas of the Plains of the northern US and southern Canada (The Dakotas, Montana, Manitoba, Alberta).

   They resemble the Amish and Mennonite Brethren, but live communally, in self contained agricultural colonies. Estimated numbers for these folk are around 50,000, living in a bunch of colonies in North America.

   Their way of life is much different from mine, but their faith creeds seem very similar.

   Can I use the word juxtaposition here? When I place what I know about these families alongside my Christian lifestyle, I see two groups looking like complete opposites, but, in reality, walking the same road, following the same Book, and being led by the same God.

   My tendency is to treat them as belonging to a tourist destination, something to go and see, but if I look closely, I see real men and women, boys and girls, living out their Christian faith, much as I do in my own life, just the details of lifestyle differ.

   Perhaps I need to juxtapose more often...

A Book and a Revelation

   A present to me from my daughter-in-law, Karen, was this coffee table book:

   She had read of my courthouse odyssey, seen some of the pictures of the older ones I had photographed and thought to give me some incentive to use them.

   The author has traveled all about the state of Montana, hitting all of its 56 counties, taking pictures of one room schoolhouses and documenting the stories of the men and women who have been students there in those places. The pictures are great, but the lives of the people who have attended these schools over the years are captivating.

   Two things catch my interest as I read through the book:

   1. I have been to Montana and had no idea of what obstacles boys and girls growing up in that state contended with to get an education.

   2. The folks interviewed were, for the most part, growing up and going to school in the same era that I was, yet their educational experiences were so completely different from mine.

   Montana is a big state, 4th in size in the US, yet the population ranks 44th in size. Ranching, farming and mining were the ways that many families made a living, and that meant that folks were scattered all over the state. The cities and large towns are few and far between, making the schooling process daunting to say the least.

   Thus the rise of the one room school. Small schools dotted the countryside, serving the people of a particular area. With the advent of better roads and transportation, many of these have been consolidated and closed, but there are still some surviving into 2015.

   One classroom, one teacher, grades 1-8, small student population (often less than 10), hard winters, widely separated family units, kids with chores at home before and after school, wood stoves, well water, outhouses, these are the conditions that stick out in my mind as I read the stories.

   But I also read of boys and girls moving on to high schools in the closest town, high academic achievements, college grads, successful professionals, and most of all, a whole host of people happy with what they received in the way of education.

   Most talked about dedicated teachers, often those who lived in an attached room to the school and no doubt suffered from the isolation of the job, the multiage classroom, the interactive learning of the different ages and levels, the simple things, the lack of bullying, the sense of sharing and helping, and most of all the community spirit embodied in those small facilities.

   Kids riding horses to school, having recess on any day that the outside temperatures were more than zero, lunches warmed on the wood stove, hauling water from the well or creek, outhouses in the winter; how did they cope?

   Well, it seems from the stories and the memories.

   And we, in another part of the same country, never had a clue…

   And it is the same way with the old county courthouses that I see in my photographs, the buildings are neat, but the real stories are the people that they represent. This is the fun part of my project.

Day Two, A Hard Beginning

   I wrote yesterday and felt good about it. There were some tangible resolutions or goals, and it seemed right to put them down so as to be accountable as this year went on.

   So I come to Day 2 of 2015 and already I am bummed.

   It is true that I woke up at a good time, still dark and quiet, and I wanted to get up. At least my mind and soul wanted to get up, but my body was not so sure. Maybe it was the fact that I stayed up until 1AM watching Alabama lose, but after an initial walk in the cool morning, sitting back down to read, think, pray and write, my eyes wanted to close, and all my mind wanted to do was turn off completely.

   In the reading for this morning were these verses: (from Hebrews 11 in The Message)

"By an act of faith, Enoch skipped death completely. “They looked all over and couldn’t find him because God had taken him.” We know on the basis of reliable testimony that before he was taken “he pleased God.” It’s impossible to please God apart from faith. And why? Because anyone who wants to approach God must believe both that he exists and that he cares enough to respond to those who seek him."

   So, if I believe God exists and that He cares about each individual, me, then I can trust that His guidance for me on yesterday was not just some figment of my imagination, but a plan He endorsed, and one I need pay attention to.

   He knows my "want tos", and He knows my sometimes foolish sleep habits. He sees my foggy mind processes, and He knows what I believe about Him.

   And I believe this morning that He sent those verses to me to remind me that I am on the right track.

   He is, and He cares.

   And that is a good thing for me on this second day of this new year.

 

 

New Year's…An Easy Day

   Why is this day so "easy"?

   I have taken some time over the past few days to think about 2015 and some resolutions I might make. Ones I need to set out for my life, ones that could make this year an impact one for me and those I might touch in some way.

   I know there are two easy things about resolutions: Easy to make and easy to forget and break. But I want to do it anyway, to set some goals, to measure my life and progress toward some things I think important.

   So this is the easy day, and I make some:

   1. I want to read my Bible more in 2015, systematically and with purpose, and I want to do it every day.

   2. I want to finish my courthouse photo project by getting the last 14 courthouses in Georgia on digital film and know that I have covered the entire state.

                                  Chatham County (old)

   3. In relation to #2, I want to have a plan to do something with this project, or to further enhance it in some way.

   4. I want to have a more healthy eating lifestyle by cutting down on the sugars in my diet. Deserts are my choice of foods far too much of the time.

   5. I want to continue to write, to detail what I feel God is showing me by His Word, through church, and through my contacts with others.

   And I feel all of the resolutions above start with No. 1, and so I sign up for a reading plan, one to focus my thoughts on and to look forward to each morning. This is the best way for me to begin my day, in the quiet of the early morning, to prayerfully look for God's voice, to help put my life in perspective.

   A plan to work on that first resolution, done.

   A good beginning for January 1, 2015, and I'm off and rolling……..

   Like I said, this is an easy day, the question is the 364 more on this year's calendar.

   How about using the lyrics from this song as a starting point.

"One Day At A Time"

I'm only human I'm just a man
Help me to believe in what I could be and all that I am
Show me the stairway that I have to climb
Lord for my sake teach me to take one day at a time.