I came across this site while researching books, and am afraid I've quickly become addicted.
Goodreads | Michael Du pré - The United States (93 books)
Bibliophiles, beware. Or, join me in listing, rating, reviewing, and cataloging every single book we've ever read (it's going to take a while). Come on; it will be fun, in a nerdy, obsessive-compulsive kind of way.
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Monday, April 21, 2014
Friday, April 18, 2014
Brother Walid
Walid is my friend from Syria. We met through a mutual friend on facebook a while back. He was disillusioned with Islam and searching for something better, and began to ask me about Christianity. A year or so ago, Walid courageously gave his life to Christ (apostasy from Islam is a capital crime), and though I tried to get him connected with a local church and offered to send him an Arabic Bible, he was very concerned with security and the best I was able to do at the time was get him an electronic version of the Scriptures in Arabic.
Despite the danger, however, it wasn't long before Walid had a growing group of new believers around him...the Gospel has its own power. I've been praying for him and for them ever since, and was very touched and gratified today to see him in this photo: at church for Good Friday! Praise be to God!
Saturday, April 5, 2014
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Orlando
Old friends made my stay in Orlando fun despite its marking the end of my walk.
Brian 'Zoid' Kelly and me at the "Get the Led Out" concert
Pastor Ray and Helen Reynolds. He was my pastor in Belgium when I was in high school, with...
Ruthie Reynolds Delk
Get the Led Out. Awesome Zep cover band
Brian and me at the Irish pub
Brian and me at the German gasthaus. Are you beginning to see a theme?
And I don't have any pictures, but most of my time was spent with lovely Jessica Eve, who opened her home and her heart to me for almost two weeks. Why don't I have any pictures of Jessica?
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
Isms
I thought I had coined the use of the term 'isms' to describe the limited kind of thinking that only sees in terms of camps and categories. But it turns out that C.S. Lewis used it back in 1946 in his introduction to 'George MacDonald: an Anthology'.
"I will attempt no historical or theological classification of MacDonald's thought, partly because I have not the learning to do so, still more because I am no great friend to such pigeonholing. One very effective way of silencing the voice of conscience is to impound in an Ism the teacher through whom it speaks: the trumpet no longer seriously dusturbs our rest when we have murmured 'Thomist,' 'Barthian,' or 'Existentialist'."
"I will attempt no historical or theological classification of MacDonald's thought, partly because I have not the learning to do so, still more because I am no great friend to such pigeonholing. One very effective way of silencing the voice of conscience is to impound in an Ism the teacher through whom it speaks: the trumpet no longer seriously dusturbs our rest when we have murmured 'Thomist,' 'Barthian,' or 'Existentialist'."
Monday, March 31, 2014
Love Defined
"...by the use of the word 'will' I have attempted to transcend the distinction between desire and action. Desire is not necessarily translated into action. Will is desire of sufficient intensity that it is translated into action...Everyone in our culture desires to some extent to be loving, yet many are not in fact loving. I therefore conclude that the desire to love is not itself love. Love is as love does. Love is an act of will." -- M. Scott Peck, The Road Less Travelled
Friday, March 28, 2014
Pics from my Last Good Day on the Trail
These are from the Chandler Slough and Yates Marsh areas, a few days before the storm.
This part of the trail was open range. Herds if cattle moving past my tent all night
This was new; had to climb several of these, with pack, to cross fences
This tree not only looks interesting, but makes a great chair
A surprisingly difficult to cross patch of prairie. The grass is soft and spongey
The wise old water oak, master of the forest
Close-up of Old Man Oak
Look closely, and you'll see the Skunk Ape and his son under the trees
Thursday, March 27, 2014
The End
Apologies for the delay. I've been ruminating on things, and trying to come up with the right words. And telling everyone makes it real.
The good news is that I don't need surgery right now. But, according to the doctor, my meniscus looks like it's been chewed up. It's been softened and, therefore, spreads under the pressure from walking on it with all the weight, and so the bones are grinding against each other. There is significant wear on the bone surfaces and 6 or 7 spurs. Consequences of continung: continued serious degeneration, likely tears in the meniscus and possibly in the ligament. Doctor's recommendation: get a bicycle.
So, unfortunately, that's it. Disappointing, to put it mildly; but I knew before I set out that this was a possibility. It was always a long shot, trying to complete this with all my ailments and disabilities. I'm very sorry to let everyone down, and thank you all sincerely for your support and encouragement.
The good news is that I don't need surgery right now. But, according to the doctor, my meniscus looks like it's been chewed up. It's been softened and, therefore, spreads under the pressure from walking on it with all the weight, and so the bones are grinding against each other. There is significant wear on the bone surfaces and 6 or 7 spurs. Consequences of continung: continued serious degeneration, likely tears in the meniscus and possibly in the ligament. Doctor's recommendation: get a bicycle.
So, unfortunately, that's it. Disappointing, to put it mildly; but I knew before I set out that this was a possibility. It was always a long shot, trying to complete this with all my ailments and disabilities. I'm very sorry to let everyone down, and thank you all sincerely for your support and encouragement.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Monday, March 24, 2014
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Saturday, March 22, 2014
On Friendship
"Among those who have written on friendship it has been much discussed whether the best friend is he who loves most or he who bestows the greatest benefits.
Much may be said on both sides; for, on the one hand, there is an infinite solace in the sincere affection of even the most humble friend, however unable he may be to render any material service; and, on the other hand, in the perplexities and misfortunes of life, which come to all, it is an unspeakable advantage to have one with a sound judgement and a helpful hand, who will interest himself in our affairs as if they were his own, because he is our friend. Yet I venture that neither of these is the pearl of friendship; there is something in it more valuable than either.
...If your friendship has been of a high order, the soul of it is simply the worth of him you are allowed to call your friend. He is genuine to the core; you know him through and through, and nowhere is there any twist or doubleness or guile. It may be a false and disappointing world, but you have known at least one heart that has never deceived you; and, amidst much that may have happened to lower your estimate of mankind, the image of your friend has enabled you always to believe in human nature. Surely this is the incomparable gain of friendship--fellowship with a simple, pure, and lofty soul." -- James Stalker, Imago Christi
I have, in recent times, had 'friends' whose idea of friendship was to tell me what they thought was best for me to hear, rather than the truth, and to pretend greater affection and higher regard for me than they actually bore, in order to spare my feelings. Such friendship I don't need: I much prefer Reverend Stalker's ideas on the matter, and such is the kind of friend I strive to be.
Much may be said on both sides; for, on the one hand, there is an infinite solace in the sincere affection of even the most humble friend, however unable he may be to render any material service; and, on the other hand, in the perplexities and misfortunes of life, which come to all, it is an unspeakable advantage to have one with a sound judgement and a helpful hand, who will interest himself in our affairs as if they were his own, because he is our friend. Yet I venture that neither of these is the pearl of friendship; there is something in it more valuable than either.
...If your friendship has been of a high order, the soul of it is simply the worth of him you are allowed to call your friend. He is genuine to the core; you know him through and through, and nowhere is there any twist or doubleness or guile. It may be a false and disappointing world, but you have known at least one heart that has never deceived you; and, amidst much that may have happened to lower your estimate of mankind, the image of your friend has enabled you always to believe in human nature. Surely this is the incomparable gain of friendship--fellowship with a simple, pure, and lofty soul." -- James Stalker, Imago Christi
I have, in recent times, had 'friends' whose idea of friendship was to tell me what they thought was best for me to hear, rather than the truth, and to pretend greater affection and higher regard for me than they actually bore, in order to spare my feelings. Such friendship I don't need: I much prefer Reverend Stalker's ideas on the matter, and such is the kind of friend I strive to be.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Update
Well, the tent is going to have to be replaced. Looks like the force of the wind caused it to come apart at dozens of little stress points, probably where there had previously been rub marks from stones or stretched fabric or whatever. Anyway, a tent with holes all over it is pretty useless.
Feeling better--looks like the antibiotics are working and it was, as I suspected, just a run-of-the-mill bug.
Waiting now for a return call from the doctor's office. So you all know exactly what's going on, my bad knee has been increasingly grinding, clicking, popping, and sometimes collapsing briefly. The pain I can deal with; but I think it's only prudent at this point to consult a physician about long-term consequences.
Would appreciate your prayers that everything turns out well.
Update to the update: appointment Tuesday morning. I'll let you know.
Feeling better--looks like the antibiotics are working and it was, as I suspected, just a run-of-the-mill bug.
Waiting now for a return call from the doctor's office. So you all know exactly what's going on, my bad knee has been increasingly grinding, clicking, popping, and sometimes collapsing briefly. The pain I can deal with; but I think it's only prudent at this point to consult a physician about long-term consequences.
Would appreciate your prayers that everything turns out well.
Update to the update: appointment Tuesday morning. I'll let you know.
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Sturm und Drang
The storm had been threatening all day, but I thought I'd dodged the bullet when I reached my destination and set up camp before it broke. Not.
For most of the night, I was fine; my tent kept me dry and I got some sleep despite being repeatedly awakened by howling winds, thunder, and once by what I'm pretty sure was a tornado, but which I only heard and never saw. But then, around 3 AM (why do these things always happen at 3AM?), the wind REALLY started to blow and the rain to fall, and the tent began leaking around the zipper. So I moved some things to the other side, used my poncho and some other water-resistant items to keep the water at bay, and lay back down to try and sleep. Until the wind began to blow so hard that the tent poles bowed and the rain was pushed through the fabric of the tent wall.
At this point I decided that I ought to use some precious battery power and check the weather on my phone. Big line of red, all the warnings that go with it, but at the end, "extreme wind warning". Well that doesn't sound good. So I put into action my emergency plan: put on pants so I have somewhere to keep wallet and phone, the two items I MUST preserve, and boots, in case I have to walk out. But I'd waited too late. The tent stakes on the windward side came up, one at a time. I grabbed my walking stick and tried to prop that side of the tent up. A pretty comical sight, if anyone had been there to see it; me with my pants halfway up, fighting 60+ mph winds with a hiking staff, and the tent wrapped around me. Couldn't even get out of it at that point, it was flapping around so violently. "Lord, I could kinda use a break here." And when it came, I dropped the pole, pulled up my britches, put on my shoes, and exited the wet, soggy, tangled mass that had been my gear.
So now what? Status--I'm f----d. Course of action--have to get some help. Well, it just so happened that my new friend Charlie, who I met in Key West, was back in Florida. We'd been trying to arrange a meetup, but couldn't get our schedules to mesh. He'd said he'd be available between the 17th and the 20th. And he'd also said, "If I'm in Florida and you find yourself in trouble, call me, and I'll come get you." Well, Charlie is a man of his word. I left a voicemail for him at 4:38 AM, and by 8 o'clock he'd driven from the other side of the state and I was warm in his van, with dry clothes, clean water, and something to eat.
But that's not all. I'd started to feel sick while I was packing up my wet things and waiting for my ride. I thought it was probably just fatigue or dehydration or whatever. Happens a lot out there, to be honest. But it kept getting worse, and by the time we reached Orlando, Charlie said I'd gone completely pale despite all the sun coloring from two months outdoors. I'd promised to buy him lunch in gratitude for the rescue, but I left mine in the parking lot, and it soon became apparent that I was sick in earnest. So, next stop: the hospital. Probably what happened is that I got careless when filtering swamp water for drinking and cooking the night before, because I'd been in a hurry to beat the storm, and let some dirty water spill on the canteen mouth or something. Anyway, they treated me for dehydration, gave me a medley of drugs, and sent off some lab work, because it's probably just a routine viral infection, but with swampwater you never know.
So they sent me on my way with a handful of prescriptions and instructions to call for the lab results in a few days. My lovely friend Jessica picked me up from the hospital, took me to get my drugs and lot of gatorade, and brought me to her house, where I currently sit with a cup of coffee and a good book, two of the things I'd been missing sorely out on the road.
Plan of action: rest, recuperate, and regroup. Equipment check, maintenance, and possible replacement. And see an orthopaedist about this knee. Then, hopefully, back on the road in a couple of weeks.
The morals of the story: number one, the Lord is looking out for me, and works in mysterious ways. If it hadn't been for the storm, I'd have ignored the first symptoms of illness and gone on, and I'd have been hours into a very remote and inaccessible trail by the time I'd realized how sick I was. Then I'd have been FUBARed. Number two, thanks for true friends like Charlie and Jessica, who are there when I need them.
"Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall , the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up ." -- Ecclesiastes 4:9-10
"A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity." -- Proverbs 17:17
For most of the night, I was fine; my tent kept me dry and I got some sleep despite being repeatedly awakened by howling winds, thunder, and once by what I'm pretty sure was a tornado, but which I only heard and never saw. But then, around 3 AM (why do these things always happen at 3AM?), the wind REALLY started to blow and the rain to fall, and the tent began leaking around the zipper. So I moved some things to the other side, used my poncho and some other water-resistant items to keep the water at bay, and lay back down to try and sleep. Until the wind began to blow so hard that the tent poles bowed and the rain was pushed through the fabric of the tent wall.
At this point I decided that I ought to use some precious battery power and check the weather on my phone. Big line of red, all the warnings that go with it, but at the end, "extreme wind warning". Well that doesn't sound good. So I put into action my emergency plan: put on pants so I have somewhere to keep wallet and phone, the two items I MUST preserve, and boots, in case I have to walk out. But I'd waited too late. The tent stakes on the windward side came up, one at a time. I grabbed my walking stick and tried to prop that side of the tent up. A pretty comical sight, if anyone had been there to see it; me with my pants halfway up, fighting 60+ mph winds with a hiking staff, and the tent wrapped around me. Couldn't even get out of it at that point, it was flapping around so violently. "Lord, I could kinda use a break here." And when it came, I dropped the pole, pulled up my britches, put on my shoes, and exited the wet, soggy, tangled mass that had been my gear.
So now what? Status--I'm f----d. Course of action--have to get some help. Well, it just so happened that my new friend Charlie, who I met in Key West, was back in Florida. We'd been trying to arrange a meetup, but couldn't get our schedules to mesh. He'd said he'd be available between the 17th and the 20th. And he'd also said, "If I'm in Florida and you find yourself in trouble, call me, and I'll come get you." Well, Charlie is a man of his word. I left a voicemail for him at 4:38 AM, and by 8 o'clock he'd driven from the other side of the state and I was warm in his van, with dry clothes, clean water, and something to eat.
But that's not all. I'd started to feel sick while I was packing up my wet things and waiting for my ride. I thought it was probably just fatigue or dehydration or whatever. Happens a lot out there, to be honest. But it kept getting worse, and by the time we reached Orlando, Charlie said I'd gone completely pale despite all the sun coloring from two months outdoors. I'd promised to buy him lunch in gratitude for the rescue, but I left mine in the parking lot, and it soon became apparent that I was sick in earnest. So, next stop: the hospital. Probably what happened is that I got careless when filtering swamp water for drinking and cooking the night before, because I'd been in a hurry to beat the storm, and let some dirty water spill on the canteen mouth or something. Anyway, they treated me for dehydration, gave me a medley of drugs, and sent off some lab work, because it's probably just a routine viral infection, but with swampwater you never know.
So they sent me on my way with a handful of prescriptions and instructions to call for the lab results in a few days. My lovely friend Jessica picked me up from the hospital, took me to get my drugs and lot of gatorade, and brought me to her house, where I currently sit with a cup of coffee and a good book, two of the things I'd been missing sorely out on the road.
Plan of action: rest, recuperate, and regroup. Equipment check, maintenance, and possible replacement. And see an orthopaedist about this knee. Then, hopefully, back on the road in a couple of weeks.
The morals of the story: number one, the Lord is looking out for me, and works in mysterious ways. If it hadn't been for the storm, I'd have ignored the first symptoms of illness and gone on, and I'd have been hours into a very remote and inaccessible trail by the time I'd realized how sick I was. Then I'd have been FUBARed. Number two, thanks for true friends like Charlie and Jessica, who are there when I need them.
"Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall , the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up ." -- Ecclesiastes 4:9-10
"A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity." -- Proverbs 17:17
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