The call of the King

November 30, 2020Posted inVillage Posts2 Comments
In 1997 I moved to Tucson to plant a church. I didn’t know what I was doing and felt very alone. Two years later I was an abject failure and looking to return to the world of business. Then God introduced me to Eric and the Seneca house. Slowly God began to gather people around us. Broken people. Hurting people. Stumbling people. People like me. Somehow God gathered people…

NOVEMBER 29 SERVICE CHANGE

November 28, 2020Posted inVillage Posts
Dear Villagers, The evening service on November 29th has been cancelled. The morning service will be held via livestream, but the building will not be open to additional attendants.  I was briefly exposed to COVID-19 recently and am awaiting test results. As such, my household is avoiding contact with the larger community for the time being. Further, Mark has come down with a bad head cold, and Rod is…

Sue Cepin’s Philosophy of Training Children Re-Print

November 18, 2020Posted inVillage Posts
Sue Cepin’s Philosophy of Training Children -We are transformed into great parents by the Holy Spirit as we embrace the gospel. Galatians 5:16-26 (NIV) 16So I say, live by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the sinful nature. 17For the sinful nature desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the sinful nature. They are in conflict with each…

Tamale Day

November 12, 2020Posted inVillage Posts
Tamale Day (an Italian sonnet) I watch you standing near the steaming pot, perspiration’s glow dripping down your face. You splay the corn husks with an expert grace, spread masa just the way your mother taught. Black olives, not green, always hit the spot. There is history you will not erase, traditions from another time and place, tamales made with love just can’t be bought. Memories of kids standing…

A Triolet of Praise

November 4, 2020Posted inVillage Posts
A TRIOLET OF PRAISE The embers of the hymn burn soft, smokey notes drift upon the breeze, float high where simple praises waft. The embers of the hymn burn soft. Sparkling descants climb aloft, soar above angel devotees. The embers of the hymn burn soft, smokey notes drifting on the breeze.

I was smitten

October 16, 2020Posted inVillage Posts1 Comment
Lindi and I were good friends when we were really young, but we lost contact and hadn't seen each other in years. Then we connected again, and began hanging out. At the time, I was working two jobs: A day job (9-5) and playing in a band at night (9-1AM). While we had resumed our friendship, Lindi had some well-deserved concerns about me. I was spending my nights in…

Face to Face

October 1, 2020Posted inVillage Posts1 Comment
What joy it is to watch and join in Sunday worship, along with Kathy, from our living room. What a privilege to hear God’s word, confess our sin, pray, hear God’s blessing, and sing familiar songs from the comfort of our home. It’s fun to hear Mr. Hand and shout out Happy Birthday to people we love. How good it is to hear familiar voices and see Mark and…

From Here On Up

September 24, 2020Posted inVillage Posts
FROM HERE ON UP Walking the long, slow slog of life. Climbing step by arduous step, each one infinitely more painful than the one that came before.  Struggling, tottering, limping on scarred and blistered feet,  twisted ankles, hobbled knees, tripping, staggering, stumbling the hard scrabble mountain path.  From here on up, it’s downhill all the way...

A Tribute to Ruth Bader Ginsburg-Someone I knew little about

September 20, 2020Posted inVillage Posts
One of 9 people presiding in the top echelon’s of the judicial systems of our country died today. I have no idea how she reacted or thought of being referred to not by her name rather a nomenclature of three letters. I don’t think I would like it, because is seams to disassociate me from being a real person, or my identity as myself. The truth is I know…

Devil’s Snare

September 3, 2020Posted inVillage Posts1 Comment
I was fourteen, wiry, strong, with skin browned by a fiery sun.  Its rays beat down on my head in those humid summer fields where I slowly ‘walked the beans’.  Walking the beans meant pulling up the sticky, thorny Jimson weeds that grew wild among uncle Paul’s  perfectly furrowed rows of soy beans.  It was also known as Devil’s Snare and richly earned its evil name.  The work was…

Ironic Consequences

September 1, 2020Posted inVillage Posts1 Comment
I have been reading a book by Jon Tyson lately called Beautiful Resistance. The first chapter, titled Worship Must Resist Idolatry, includes the following: “Novelist David Foster Wallace said, ‘Pretty much anything… you worship will eat you alive.’ He went on to say that if you worship money and things, you will never have enough. If you worship beauty and sexual allure, you will feel ugly. If you worship…