tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28882463809323594852024-03-12T20:34:30.661-05:00Eye on a SparrowAugust Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.comBlogger345125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-8533675129380068912020-03-26T11:18:00.004-05:002022-12-31T15:37:30.468-06:00Becoming A Child Again<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Within our world, too many times we see children as mouths to feed, diapers to change and pretty much a drain of resources and time. In Jesus’ day, it was much the same. How many times when growing up did you hear the statement, “Children are to be seen and not heard!” In this kind of world, children have no say in what happens to them. They are totally dependent upon adults for everything, including food, shelter, and clothing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">During Jesus’ day, the disciples were pushing children and their parents away. Jesus upon seeing this was greatly disturbed by the adult’s actions. He told his disciples and others nearby who were keeping the children from him to stop and let them come near. Matthew 18:2 tells us that Jesus called the little children to him and then looked up to the adults nearby and said, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.” This is how Jesus saw children, and not necessarily how we as adults see them. He not only viewed children this way, he asked that we become like them. When children play, they many times mimic adults in their games. It is a child’s form of work, but with the fun factor included. This does not mean that we as adults should play all day and walk away from responsibility, but that we look at our surroundings through new eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You have heard some individuals say that they haven’t worked a day in their lives because they have enjoyed the work that they do. Somehow, many of us adults have forgotten how to have fun, and at the same time accomplish the tasks before us. So much of the time, we go through the day and look at it as drudgery all the while waiting for the weekend to have fun, or for that matter, even until retirement. When the time for fun is allowed by us to take place, we have been in the trenches of despair with our jobs and lives for so long that when this time comes, we have completely forgotten how to have fun. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Many times, adults look at the sadness in their lives and blame it on their circumstances such as jobs, location, or even those people around them. I believe Jesus is trying to tell us that life is more than seeking the elusive rainbow around the corner. Many times, it isn’t what a child has that makes them happy, it is what is before them that they see as the <i>potential for happiness</i>. Taking our eyes off of what might be, to that of seeing what is, and finding joy in our surroundings. If we take the time to watch children and how they meet the day, perhaps we as adults can learn from them. William Wilberforce was a person with great influence in the British Parliament and was influential in gaining the freedom for African slaves in England. As influential as Wilberforce was, he would leave a meeting of prominent men to run out and play with his children when they beckoned him. This confounded his peers very much, but over time Wilberforce’s example helped other influential lawmakers to see another perspective towards children, their value and importance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In this time of restrictions and confinement, perhaps we too can learn from our children and rediscover life through the eyes of a child. “Father, help us to see our lives as you do, so that we may live a completed life filled with joy, excitement, and with the heart of a child.”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-51660299267739200432020-03-23T10:36:00.001-05:002020-03-23T15:30:18.232-05:00Leadership In A Time Of Crisis<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">During the Civil War Abraham Lincoln worked directly with the military on a daily basis. He quickly found that generals who were good in peacetime were not always the ones who brought victory on the battlefield. Striving to find those that could lead, Lincoln searched for a general who could promote positive leadership as well as one whom he could work with. Eventually, he found that man in General Ulysses S. Grant. Grant had won the war in the Western front and now was asked to take command of the whole army in the East where the heaviest battles were taking place. He instilled in his men the belief that they could win, and Grant quickly removed those that proved to be ineffective and replaced them with men who could show the attributes that Grant was looking for. Eventually the war was won by these same men. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">During World War II men who could get the job done were promoted very quickly. Dwight D. Eisenhower who just a few years earlier was the adjutant to General Douglas McArthur. As Eisenhower worked with and for General McArther, Eisenhower watched and learned from him. Eisenhower took from McArthur the ideas that worked for him personally as a leader, and put those aspects that Eisenhower saw as less than stellar about General McArthur off to the side. Eisenhower became his own man and he himself chose men that possessed the same attributes as himself. Eisenhower did not object to removing men from leadership as did Lincoln and Grant before him. The situation demanded it and he could not cotyle, politicize, or sympathize with poor leadership. One situation that Eisenhower was tasked with was to remove a general who waited too long for what (this general deemed as necessary for victory) re-enforcements to arrive when invading central Italy by the sea. By waiting, this general waited too long and the German divisions were allowed to escape to the North, forcing the American and British to fight them again, and this time on the German’s terms. This was a costly mistake that costs many hundreds of lives and extended the Italian campaign by many days and weeks. His delayed actions proved fatal for many G.I.s.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Today we are facing a crisis much like our great leaders have had in the past. Rather than being fearful, our leadership must be decisive, and individuals must act promptly. Mistakes are bound to be made, but by wavering in decision making, many, many lives will be lost due to ineffective leadership. Decisiveness is crucial, but also good decision making is important. Truly good leaders do not surround themselves with "yes" men, but those men and women who are allowed to disagree, those that have ideas that might be contrary to their leader. Without the ability to do this, subordinates cannot share perspectives that might be better than their respective leader. One leader once said, “I surround myself with a leadership team who challenge me to think outside the box of my conventional ways!” Good leaders must also show to their constituents that they are confident in getting the job done, and they in turn must instill that confidence in those they lead. Whether they are in education, business, law enforcement, or the military, these same skills still apply. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">During the Great Depression, American citizens were hungry for more than just food, they wanted hope as well. During this time, President Roosevelt began his “Fireside Chats” over the radio. Weekly, President Roosevelt would update American citizens on the programs that he newly initiated that would help them with their jobs, food, and communities. This one event told the American people that their leader cared about them, and was not somewhere in an ivory tower unaffected by their collective hardships. This too is another trait of great leadership. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Just before the invasion of Europe, General Eisenhower knew that he would be sending many thousands of lives into harms way and many would not make it back home to their loved ones. Eisenhower decided to walk among his men listening to their individual stories, all the while encouraging them and thanking these individuals for their willing sacrifices in the challenges that they would soon face in the coming days, weeks and months ahead. These men needed to know that their sacrifices were not in vain and that those who led these men cared about them and believed in them. Eisenhower’s visit to these men strengthened their weary hearts, gave them hope, and instilled in them that their efforts were not in vain. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Now is the time for our nation and the world to pray for great leaders. We need those who understand the people they lead. Leaders who care about their challenges and who are willing to sacrifice for them. When Israel was wanting a leader, God allowed the Israelites to choose the leader that they thought would lead them like the rest of the world leaders. They chose Saul who was tall, strong and handsome. In the end, he turned out to be selfish, arrogant, a coward, and a defeatist. When God could stand his failing leadership no more, he appointed his prophet Samuel to choose another. Samuel was sent to the house of Jesse to make God’s leadership selection. Samuel looking at the 7 oldest brothers who were tall and handsome thought God would definitely choose one of them. He was incorrect in his thinking. Exasperated, Samuel then asked their father, "Jesse, do you have any other sons?” Jesse said that there one other son, “My youngest who is out taking care of the sheep.” Samuel eventually stood before David looking down on his short stature and youthful smile and asked God, “Is this the one you have chosen?” God said, “Yes! Man looks at the outside while I look at the heart!” David turned out to be the greatest leader that Israel had ever had. We likewise need to give this prayer to God, “Please Lord, give us the leaders that 'you' have chosen.”</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-87554151647225405262020-03-19T13:43:00.000-05:002020-03-19T13:56:09.760-05:00He Is Waiting<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">In Matthew 14:13 we see Jesus being told that John the Baptist was just beheaded. Scripture recorded that Jesus left everyone and went to a lonely place by himself. One has to ask, why did he do that? What is obvious to everyone reading this scripture is that Jesus must have been overwhelmed with grief and emotion. We can only guess that Jesus needed to talk to someone who could offer him support with his grief, someone who could love him and give Jesus the answers that he sought after. We can only surmise that Jesus was talking to his father, the one person that could help him with his feelings of grief and loss. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">I know that collectively we are all facing loss right now. Whether it be with work, income loss, separated from family and friends, perhaps even the death of a family member. Every one of us needs to talk to someone who will listen, advise, love and understand them. We know that children often learn by watching adults in how they navigate through life’s challenges. For us, as God’s children, we can follow our Father’s example in how he met life’s adversities by going to the person that could comfort, listen, lead and love him. Jesus told us that he wants us to come to him, as recorded in Matthew 11:28-29. “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me. For I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">For those that do not know what a “yoke” is used for, it is a wooden collar placed upon two oxen. The yoke keeps both oxen in tandem with one another. If the load is too heavy for one ox, the stronger of the two will take up the slack and pull harder for the weaker of the two. My father once told me that they had two plow horses on the farm that were yoked together and did all the heavy work side by side throughout their lives. Dad said that when one was weak, the other horse would help by taking up the slack and pulling harder. These two horses did every job on the farm together, but one day one of the horses grew ill all the while the other horse refused to leave his side. He refused to leave him for they were the closest of friends. By staying near to the sick horse, the other horse’s presence helped ill horse to get well sooner. Each horse with their actions told my father that their bond of brotherly love was stronger than the challenges that they faced. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">Jesus wants to help us with our burdens. He desires to take the yoke and support us. He has said that he will never leave us, and wants to help us. James 4:8 says: “</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; font-size: 14pt;">Draw near to God and he will draw near to you.” He is waiting patiently for you because he loves you.</span><span style="font-family: "baskerville old face" , serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-88337679612276445002020-03-15T08:54:00.001-05:002020-03-15T08:54:14.231-05:00Coffee<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">A couple of days ago Anne and I were shopping at Natural Grocery in Fargo. It was late and I was hoping to get some coffee beans that I had been waiting for. I had stopped a couple of times before, but they either were sold out or the shipment was delayed. I was feeling frustrated when coming up to the cashier when she asked me if I had found everything I needed. I responded by giving a curt answer, “No I hadn’t! I have stopped by a couple of times before and one of the workers had told me that the breakfast blend coffee would probably be in today’s shipment, but I see that it was not.” She patiently thought for a second and asked me if I would be interested in the coffee near where I was standing. I responded by saying that I had bought the pre-ground coffee yesterday but was hoping I would find the unground Breakfast Blend coffee in the back. Feeling frustrated, I paid her for the groceries, and I was busy packing them up when I noticed Anne (my wife) speaking quietly to the same checkout. When in the car I asked her what she was discussing with her. I thought maybe Anne was talking about how to get the coffee when it came in. Anne said that she was asking the checkout how she was doing and if she had a rough day. I then asked Anne what the young lady’s answer was. Anne said, “She told me that the day was filled with patrons rushing in to buy goods and fearing that they would not find what they felt they needed. I then asked her how she was doing. The young lady told me that she was very tired and was looking forward to heading home.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I then realized that I was one of those frustrated and panicked customers who was making this young lady’s day that much harder. I realized that I was not concerned about her, but only my own needs. But, God in his loving patience was not finished teaching me yet. The next day as I was walking from my car to the coffee shop, I stopped to listen to a loud-sounding car coming up to the stoplights. My first reaction was that of frustration since I detested what I called the “Bugle Mufflers.” “Another kid with his loud car again!” I turned to look and spotted the car, and the first thing I thought after looking at the car was to say to myself, “That muffler is worth more than the car!” It screeched to a stop at the stoplight and what happened next made me halt in my tracks. I saw the young man reach over to the passenger window and hand a man some money. As the loud car took off, I could see that a man was standing at the stoplight with a sign asking for money to help him buy food. I then turned to watch the broken-down loud car take off into the distance in a cloud of smoke. I could then smell that he had belts in his engine compartment that were slipping and burning badly. Growing up with a father who as mechanic, I knew that his belts were about to break from the excessive slipping that came from almost being worn out. I realized that he had to drive fast to keep the engine going, since it was dying from a lack of electrical charge from his alternator belt slipping. He wasn’t showing off, he was just holding on with his broken-down car. It then came to me that this young man was giving to the homeless man on the corner money that was very much needed in order to keep his vehicle going, or for that matter money to live on. He was giving to the man on the corner out of his need, not his excess. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As I turned to go my thoughts went back to Jesus in the book of Mark, chapter 12:44 Jesus was talking to his disciples about giving and trusting God. After watching people put money into the offering box, Jesus from a distance pointed out an old lady putting two copper coins into the offering. Spreading his hands to all the wealthy giving large amounts of money and then to the old widow, he said, “<span style="background-color: white; color: #001320;">They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything--all she had to live on." I knew that a woman’s income in those days came from a husband who worked outside the home while the wife worked within the home. If the man died, it was left up to the grown children to help the parent. This lady obviously had no one to provide for her, but she gave non-the-less. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Thinking about this further, I came to realize that this lady depended on God to meet her needs. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #001320;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In examining myself, I was upset about not having a luxury, “special ground coffee.” I was angry over someone else hoarding the coffee when I myself was wanting to do the same thing. In my selfish anger, I failed to notice the checkout who was having a very rough day. The next day I was still thinking of my own needs when I came to see the homeless man who needed money for survival, food to exist. On the other hand, the young man in the broken-down car was giving out of his need while I was angry over his noisy car, thinking at first that all he wanted was for people to watch his bugle exhausted noisy vehicle. I was judging him wrongly, and God was showing me in his gentle way that people are not always what they appear to be. He was revealing to me that putting others first is not always easy when scarcity is present, but God does not abandon us. I am coming to realize that God promises to take care of us, and he knows our needs before we do. Needless to say, sitting in the coffee shop, I drank my coffee in silence and pondered further what God was going to teach me. </span></span><span style="color: #001320; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face", serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Baskerville Old Face", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-35294439713659745032020-02-12T16:08:00.002-06:002020-02-12T16:08:39.015-06:00Last Day of Fishing As A Child<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 14pt;">Each of us has a last day of something, whether it be golfing, driving, knitting or even fishing. For me it was fishing. I remember that day with all my heart; it was not one of my best of efforts or for that matter, outcomes.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 14pt;">I was 10 years old and I had many adventures with trying to catch fish of varying types and sizes. As a child growing up, I would learn from the older and more experienced fishermen, that is, when to fish and where to fish. Many would say, “It is best to fish when it rains!” And yet others would say, “The best time is just before it rains!” Well for me, I usually did catch something, but many times, it was not fish. It usually wa<o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 14pt;">s something like a cold instead. Over time, I felt that I did become an expert in that arena (cold setting), but it did not deter me from my ultimate goal, and that was in enjoying myself on the river.</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 14pt;">With fishing it becomes a game of chance at times. I found though at the ripe age of ten that being a good fisherman one had to have the best of everything. I just knew that if I could afford the best fishing equipment, I would be the envy of many a fisherman and perhaps might even become a famous angler one day, (locally that is). With that in mind I was more than motivated, and I was determined with all my heart in catching the “Really big one!” To reach this lofty goal, I set out for myself the target of having the best rod, the best real, the best bait, and of course the best place to find my huge monster. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 14pt;">In obtaining this great feat, I needed to work, and work was is in fact what I did. I walked so many bean fields that after a while all I saw were bean rows upon bean rows, even in my dreams. Each day I put up with the agony of wet pants (and underwear) from the early morning dew. Not only did I walk around squishing like a fish from being so wet, I endured raw and bloody hands from pulling so many weeds that were many times bigger than myself. This though did not deter me from purchasing my ultimate weapons. After a few weeks of pulling weeds, I had earned enough to buy the newest reel that was just introduced, the Zebco 202. I was finished with open reels that were always getting tangled up into knots. One always had to spend as much time or more in untangling the knotted string on your reel as that of fishing. The new Zebco 202 all but eliminated this problem. The one challenge that would soon visit my dreams though was one that my new rod and real could not fix, that of arrogance, pride and stupidity.<span class="apple-converted-space"> Nothing was said in the instructions on my new fishing equipment in how to overcome that challenge.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 14pt;">The day finally arrived for me to purchase my dream. I walked into the store and asked for their newest pieces of fishing gear. I bought the lightest and strongest pole for my reel. It was made of fiberglass and it had a black base with red stripes on it. Really cool to look at with almost a racing stripe finish that would be the best and coolest looking fishing rod around. Lastly, I was going to use a new rubber lure that looked just like a wiggling worm. I was done with getting up in the middle of the night, walking down to Ashley Park in the rain trying to catch night crawlers which</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 14pt;"> were forced to come to the surface due to fact that their dens were full of water. I could identify with them completely about having to be where I didn’t want to be, “Out in the rain!” After about an hour of catching slimy night crawlers, I was totally soaked and ready to head home, take a shower and crawl into bed so I could get forty winks to keep from falling asleep in class the next day. This part of my life was now over, and I was on the road to easy street. I would now have stringers full of fish with no more effort in catching them than just having to breathe.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 14pt;">Saturday was the day that would change my future in fishing. I would catch the big ones with ease and the older fishermen would praise me for getting the fish of a lifetime. I could also describe to them how easy it was with my new rod and reel. I just<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>knew that they would be envious, and I imagined that the Coast-to-Coast store would have a great barrage of senior fishermen rushing into their store wanting the new Zebco 202 with the racing stripe fishing rod just like mine.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 14pt;">My day started out, as did every Saturday at our house, except this morning I was the first one up. My brother Mike (12 years old) wanted to go along to see how the rod and reel would turn out, so I let him tag along. Normally it was the other way around, being the big brother, Mike would set the pace and inform me what I needed to do to spend time with him. I would always eagerly accept his terms just to spend even an hour with my big brother, but today the tables were turned. I don’t think my chest could have puffed out any further than it did at that moment when leaving the house while heading to the dam. My brother always fished next to the power plant where the waters were deep and calm, but today I saw huge Northern Pike leaping the swift currents right in the middle of the dam where the current was very fast. Throwing all caution to the wind, I was determined that this was the place for me, and I just knew I would catch one of those big ones for sure. But first, I had to walk back over the bridge and back down the other riverbank to get out into the rapids below the dam. When leaving my brother, I could see the apprehension on his face. I wanted to rack it up to him not wanting me to show him up by me bringing home the bigger fish, but in the back of my mind I knew it was something more. Regardless, I wasn’t going to allow my conscious to dictate terms to my superior intellect. As I climbed up the riverbank to my brightest future and destiny, I happened to see an older fisherman down river from where I was. My first thought was, “I will have an impartial witness to see my superior fishing skills and witness how the new state of the art rod and reel really work.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 14pt;">In looking back at that time in my life, I can see now how the proud are humbled, and that one doesn’t need to hold a lofty place in society to learn humility. But, for the moment, that lesson was lost due to the fact it was deeply hidden in the recesses of my mind, and the only way I was going to let it out was by the total surrender of my ego. Humility and myself were not on speaking terms at the moment, but I would soon learn that this future state of mind would patiently wait for me in the wings. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 14pt;">When entering the swift current below the damn I realized it was going to be more than a challenge. I could see my brother watching me from a distance and I was determined to prove to him that I was the better fisherman. That thought alone kept me going when reason should have told me that I was being a total nincompoop for even attempting this idiotic venture into futility. Non-the-less, I wasn’t going to let common sense dictate to me what I could and couldn’t do. In my mind I was past the point of reason and I was now entering into the realm of pure commitment. I had just passed the point of no return; all that was left to do was to carry out my duty in following through with my heart. So, I kept heading into the deep churning current</span></div>
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straight ahead. I intently focused my eyes on the giant Northern Pike jumping way out in the distance so as to ignore the alarms going off in my head. As I slowly slid my shoes ahead onto the cement platform that was buried in almost a foot and a half of thundering current, my thoughts of getting the big one shrouded my reason and I kept moving along into oblivion. It took me about ½ hour to reach my goal, but the problem of stability was the greatest challenge facing me at the moment. The rapid current kept me sliding towards the edge of the cement platform where the buried boulders were lying in wait to swallow little boys up like myself. Then a revelation came to me in a flash, “Just go ahead and slide off the platform and try to wedge one leg in the huge rocks and one on top of a sunken boulder!” So, I let the current slide my feet to the edge of the precipice where I was fortunate enough to land on a slimy boulder. I dropped one leg in front of submerged rock while perching the other on top of this slippery boulder. This is working perfectly, now I would catch the fish of a lifetime. At that moment I looked up and saw the senior fisherman watching me as well as my brother Mike. I just knew they thought, “There is a young man with guts!” Later though, my brother would share with me what he really thought, and you can put the puzzle pieces together by what he did in fact say to me.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 14pt;">Not to be undone by danger all around, I cast my line out into the churning cauldron of froth, hoping that these struggling giants would be more interested in my lure than any Immersed parts of my anatomy. Noticing the force of the current against my weakening thighs and hips led my fears to start rising to unbelievable heights, and now they were reaching unseen levels in my brain. Then it happened, a giant Northern jumped out of the water right in front of me and my fears suddenly became reality. At that moment, reason didn’t seem to make its home in my mind. I became so frightened that I felt that I would become more appealing bait than what was at the end of my line. If that was not enough, my foot felt something move under me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 14pt;">I knew that monsters were hiding in the depths of the water, because I had just met one a month earlier. My brother Ken and I were fishing in the deep waters by the power plant when I lost my best lure to something that seemed to pull the opposite direction when trying to draw it in. In desperation, I pulled with all my strength and it started to move toward me. When I thought I had the catch of a lifetime, my line snapped, and I went flying backward on to the rocks behind me. My fleeting moment of rapture was gone, and my heart dropped into the depths of despair when I thought of losing such an expensive lure. I was determined not to squander my chances on another attempt at this lost adventure, so I waded into the deep and then dove down to find my expensive lure. Gasping for breath, I exploded up out of the water with a portion of a fence on my shoulder. It had been lying on the bottom of the river. A storm must have drug it down stream with the raging currents and dropped it in the calm deep lagoon by the power plant. When dragging it to the shore, I found that it took all of my strength. Once safely on the sandy beach, I realized that I had retrieved the haul of a lifetime. Lures and hooks were seen gleaming in the sun like many diamonds on a ring. At that moment, greed was my friend. I very delicately picked off each beautiful lure and put my treasure into my tackle box. I looked at my brother, smiled, and then threw the fence section back into the water. He asked me what I did that for, and I told him that many other fishermen will soon catch their lures on this wire fence like I did, and I will then have another treasure trove in a very short time. All I have to do is dive back down to retrieve the fence once again. I told Ken that I could get such a catch of lures as to be set for life. He looked at me and went, “Hmm!” He then walked away shaking his head, but the way I dealt with a guilty conscious was to look at what I could gain from my treasure, all the while trying to ignore my better angel who was already pricking my conscious fearlessly. Obstinacy soon won out though, but my better angel was not done with me yet. About a week later I dove into the spot where I had dropped the fence section earlier. I finally found it after feeling the muddy bottom for what seemed like an eternity. I had forgotten how long I had been under water when all of a sudden I realized my head was starting to spin from lack of oxygen. I launched off the muddy river bottom pushing with all my might to the surface, just barely making it to where air greeted my lungs with ecstasy. Realizing my victory was just a few strokes away, I turned my head for shore, but as I rotated my body around, I looked with horror at what was in front of me. It was the biggest snapping turtle I had ever seen. </span></div>
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Its head was about 4 inches across, and its mouth was gaping wide open with the top portion of its lip shaped into the biggest hook that I had ever seen. The shell was about two feet across and I knew if he or she did not want me in its water, that I could soon be missing a body part. I quickly dropped the fence into the deep as I swam parallel to the shore and then veered twenty feet down stream, before heading to the safety of the shoreline. Nature had a way of helping me to see that my desires for wealth needed to be tweaked into another plan for later on. And now I could see that using advanced technology in fishing, I would soon be famous and sought after, it was my Eldorado, that of catching the biggest Northern in the river, that is if it didn’t catch me first. <o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 14pt;">Feeling something move under me made me think that perhaps the boulder that I had planted my foot on was not a boulder after all. Was it indeed the giant snapping turtle that I had encountered a month earlier? If it was then I might be finding that I would have to go the rest of my life without a leg, or worse! Panic rose in my brain and all I could think of was to try to get to the safety of the cement platform to my right. But how could I do that since this moving boulder or snapper was moving downstream in the opposite direction? I then made a giant leap up the ragging current hoping to reach the cement platform of safety. But, by doing so I lost my footing and went headfirst into the swift current. The next thing I knew was that I could not hold on to my rod and reel and hope to stay above the water, so I let my dreams disappear into the white rapids all around me. Thinking I now could swim towards the dam with both hands free I soon found that I was being taken down river. Before I knew it, I was about 75 yards downstream and still moving very quickly away from the dam. My arms started to feel like lead and the weight of my clothes and boots were pulling me under. In panic I looked towards shore and saw the elderly fisherman hollering at me with all his lungs could muster, “Swim downstream and then swim to shore!” It didn’t make sense to me, but I went against my better judgment (which got me into this trouble in the first place.) I desperately turned towards shore, it was so hard to do at this point, since now my body was agonizing with pain and my strength was almost gone. I lifted one arm after another saying to myself, “Just lift your arms, one at a time!” I forced my body to obey my commands when all it wanted to do was stop and rest, but I knew if I did, I would succumb to the depths of the beckoning river, calling me to its shadowy home. When I felt that I could go no further, my hand struck the shore bottom. I then slowly raised my head only to see the older fisherman I seen earlier, extending his hands in an attempt to pull me the rest of the way out of the water. I grabbed his hands only to fall into the shallow water once again. He came out into the stream to hold me and help my unresponsive legs into remembering how to walk again. Sitting on a dry boulder, I looked up at him, I then made a weak attempt to smile and thank him, but all that came out from my mouth was river water that I was coughing up. I looked out into the raging water and I knew in my heart that what I attempted to do was all for fleeting fame and glory, and this foolish venture not only cost me my new purchases, but it almost cost me my life as well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: -webkit-standard; font-size: 14pt;">In the coming days and months I would go over this learning adventure in my mind, many times over. I was given another chance to look at life through new eyes and a new heart. Humility did visit me that day, and in many moments of recollection since. I came to realize that the best way to capture life was not to gather it in one momentous event, but to enjoy its pleasures in the small things of life that many of us see as commonplace. I also realized that fame is fleeting and like a slippery fish, hard to hold on to. <a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a>There are many monsters in life that can either stop us from taking chances or strengthen us in our resolve to be better than what we are today. One though must learn that these giants are here to teach us to know about our abilities and the limits that are found in testing them. Wisdom is the child that is given to those that learn the difference. The greatest gift that is gained is not in the prize that is sought after, but that which has been learned. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-54000461320709251822019-11-10T12:20:00.001-06:002019-11-12T13:39:53.824-06:00Growing Up During The Nuclear Threat Era<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Living Through The Soviet Threat</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Until the later part of the 1940s, the United States was the only super power to possess the atomic bomb, but that was about to change. The Soviets detonated their first atomic bomb on August 29, 1949. Fearful as that was, the United States felt that they could deter any Soviet threat through the use of its military. This all changed though when the Soviets altered the course of human events on October 4, 1957 when they launched Sputnik, the first spacecraft ever into space. Our military was horrified at this event since they knew that it was only a short time before the Soviets would be able to launch their nuclear weapons into space, and drop them on the United States or for that matter, anywhere in the world. And with this threat, fear would lead both countries to the brink of nuclear war. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Could things get worse? The world would soon discover that indeed they could. The Communist threat was spreading extremely quickly in the world, toppling many existing governments. Because of the Communist domino belief, (one government falls to communism, causing many others to soon follow) led many people in democratic nations around the world to think that there was a Communist around every corner in their country, all trying to topple their government. Along with this, every military event seemed to have millions of Americans and many others in the world glued to a new form of media called, television. These events would finally lead us to the brink of nuclear war on October 1962. Millions of Americans watched their televisions as President Kennedy began telling them that nuclear missiles were seen on the Island of Cuba not far from the United States’ coastline. Our president followed by giving the Soviet leader, (Nikita Khrushchev), an ultimatum to get his missiles off Cuba or face a major military confrontation. It finally came to the breaking point when a major sea battle was about to take place. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The U.S. and Soviet navies were facing a head on collision that would soon bring the world to the brink of nuclear annihilation. Near the coastline of the U.S. in the Caribbean Sea, both navies would meet for the first time. American ships were first to spot a Soviet submarine near Cuba, and were given orders to use non-lethal depth charges to force the Soviet submarine to the surface. As the sub was being depth-charged, the Soviet officers and crew aboard their ship thought war had in fact finally broke out. Knowing that their sub had been discovered by the U.S. Navy, the Soviet crew realized that it would be just a matter of minutes until their sub would be crushed by the depth charges falling on them. Unknown to the Soviet submarine crew, the U.S. Navy sent messages to the sub informing them that the charges were non-lethal, but for some unknown reason, the Soviets never got their message. Meanwhile, the captain of the Soviet sub was preparing to fire his nuclear torpedo against an American carrier. But first, according naval protocol, 3 officers on board the Soviet sub had to all agree to fire their nuclear torpedo, and it was down to one man, a Soviet submarine officer named, Vasili Arkhipov. Out of the three officers needed for the firing of the torpedo, Arkhipov was the only officer that would not agree to fire it. If they had indeed fired upon the Americans, the radiation would have been felt by many on the southern coastline of the United States, which in turn would most likely have led to a nuclear response by the U. S. It was this one man who saved the world from nuclear annihilation. And so, it came to this moment of history that I write this story of how a little boy was going to save his family while the world was heading towards nuclear doom. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In the 1950s, our elementary school was having nuclear fallout drills on a regular basis. Our techniques would not go down as inspirational, or for that matter, repeatable for future generations. It wasn’t a complicated process to learn, when we heard the bells ringing, we would hide under our desks until told that the drill was not real. That was the scary part, not knowing if it was a drill or not. Sometimes during these exercises, when I was trying to look unafraid, I would glimpse over at the girls in my classroom, and I could see that they too were terrified over the idea of being bombed. During those frightening moments, I thought if it really did happen, I knew which girl I would protect first. Though she didn’t know I even existed, or even breathed the same air as her, I was determined to protect her with all my heart, that is, if the bombing did in fact start. I just knew at that moment I could be her hero and she would think of me as her prince in shining armor coming to protect her from all the devastation caused by the nuclear blast. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In looking back at those times, we as children were in fact constantly frightened over the possibility of a nuclear war and the devastation that would ensue. In my own way, I wanted to protect my family from such calamity, so one day I acted in a bold move to keep them safe. Sitting in the moonlight of my yard, I came up with my most daring plan yet. I was going to build a cave for my family. The next day when carrying out my gallant plan, I first had to scale a cliff overlooking the Des Moines River, right next to a 60 foot </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">drop off and it was straight down. My thoughts were that if we were bombed by the Soviets and overrun by their armies, we would have my cave to protect them from the blast, and hide them from their advancing armies. As I was digging my tunnel, I kept thinking, “This has to be better than my school desk!” So I dug and I dug, day after day without telling anyone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">After about a week I had the cave done and I was very proud of myself. The next part of the plan was to tell my brothers, and then with much pride, my dad and mom. But, before that, I needed to show (Mike and Ken), my brothers my cave and see what they thought of my engineering feat. The next day I led my them to the cave, but first we had to dare the cliff with much reservation, and after many near falls, we made it to the area close to the cave entrance. As we neared the cave, I could almost feel my shirt buttons bursting from my monumental accomplishment. Next, I turned around and faced my brothers with my back to the opening of the cave, and with much pomp and ceremony I addressed them by pontificating in as serious a tone as possible, “I can hide at least 7 people in this cave.“ There faces by now were</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> glazed over in amazement, at the same time bobbing their heads on either side of me in an attempt to see my masterpiece. With a somewhat cocky attitude, I turned around to face my greatest magnum opus. But, what I saw next was not what I had hoped to see; the whole cave was not there. Spinning around looking at my brothers, I said, “It’s gone, someone found my secret spot and caved it in!” They looked at me and then at each other with stunned looks. At that moment, recognition dawned on our collective faces and we knew that no one had collapsed my cave; it came down all on its own. In our slow retreat home, and after escaping the death-defying cliff, I found myself totally deflated, but somehow trying to save my dignity as we walked back home. Following my two brothers I made one last effort in salvaging my pride by telling them, “You know guys, that was our best hope in hiding our family if the Soviets decided to drop a bomb on us, or for that matter, come for us.” As I trailed behind them, I looked intently at their collective reactions to my last statement. Silence was their only response as we walked along through the woods. I knew in my heart though that they were making every effort to keep from snickering as I saw their clinched jaws tightening. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As I trailed further and further behind my brothers I began to think, "Walking can help one think!" It then came to me as I went past a badger entrance, “I could have been in there when my cave had collapsed.” As small as it was, I had accomplished that, saving myself!</span></div>
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-1501323061299022832019-11-01T13:00:00.000-05:002019-11-01T13:21:25.952-05:00The Allure of Fame<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The All</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">ure of Fame</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In looking back at those whimsical years of my youth, I realized that some of my best ideas came to me when sitting on the steps of my parent’s sidewalk. These thoughts just flooded over me while watching the beautiful moonrise over Jackson’s Des Moines River Valley. On one particular evening of deep contemplation, I had a major flash of inspiration, something that I had never thought of before. “Why do I need all these expensive lures and test lines to get the big prize fish that always seemed to elude my grasp?” This thought came to me like I imagine it did for people like Henry Ford with the automobile, or Thomas Edison with the light bulb; I had in that moment the idea of the century, “I should throw away my fishing equipment and keep the process of catching fish as simple as possible. All I needed was to use my dad’s garden rake to catch fish!” When heading back to the garage for my tool of enlightenment (dad’s rake), floods of uncertainty came over me. Honesty of mind followed me with each step that I took, all the while pricking my conscious as I recalled some of my past ideas that needed more work in the developmental phase. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> But I had to be honest, some of my dreams worked wonderfully, while others would not go down in recorded history as being confused with Professor Einstein’s, shall we say.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Not daunted by my past near successes, I thought this new idea was going to be my best one yet. Spear fishing the big anglers with the garden rake was going to be revolutionary, and perhaps many others would use this method in the future. After all, it was easier than using a fishing line that might very well get snagged under some boulder, or sunken tree branch as happened to me and others so many times in the past. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">So with much excitement, I rose early the next morning, and as I neared the dam, I could see the early morning mist rising from the water as it went over the 10-foot drop to the foaming froth below. The river was now at the perfect level to see giant pike swimming between the rocks. I knew at that very moment, it was the day for my premier path to success. Realizing that these monsters of the deep would swim away if I made too much noise, I crept down to the water’s edge with all the stealth I could invoke, all the while l softly tip toed over the slippery boulders to the spot where the water was churning the least. As I watched the spotted monsters leisurely making their way between the rocks, I could tell that my plan was going to work out perfectly. I knew that just as a big game hunter pauses to get the most opportune shot, I too raised my rake very slowly, and just at the right moment, I would swing down to my target below and success would be mine. But my fortunes were about to change. Without warning, my opportunity was stolen from my grasp. At that dreadful moment, my foot flew out from underneath me. As my world was turning upside down, literally, I could see as if in slow motion, the slimy green moss covered bolder beneath where my feet once were. In that disastrous point in time of divine comedy, I saw my life flash before my eyes as I flipped upside down. I landed on my side with a great thud, At that moment, I began feel cold icy water rushing into my pants and underwear, and I knew at that precise moment in time that, “This is why I hadn’t seen the “Old Timers” doing this very thing.” As the icy waters flooded over my body, I knew that I needed to find a dry rock in order to regain my mobility, but more importantly, my dignity. But first, I quickly looked around to see if anyone was watching me. I was safe, but the cold water did not help take away the pain on my bruised ribs that I felt at that moment. I limped to the shore holding my side, and began tending to my wounds. As I sat there looking at my battered and bruised body, I looked up only to see several huge Pike and Walleyes slipping from my grasp in waters right before me. All the while, they seemed to smile at my misfortune, but all I could do was to respond by wincing in pain. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">After about an hour of warming in the rising sun, my wilted spirits were beginning to be rejuvenated. I now felt that I was ready for another round of spearing with my new invention. This time I watched each rock and boulder as I stepped cautiously making sure that I didn’t repeat my prior miscalculations. Just before reaching my previous point of defeat, I first got a firm footing and then stood perfectly still not wanting to ruin my one chance at success. As I stood their waiting, my thoughts wondered to my prospect at glory. I could just see all the “Old Timers” licking their collective lips as I hauled in the giant that they could only dream about. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> At that point, my thoughts went wild, I saw myself in the paper with my giant Pike in hand, smiling at the camera, chest puffed out and people from near and far asking me what my secret was in catching such a large trophy fish. I would then be the envy of old and young anglers alike. Maybe even someone from the Minneapolis Star would come down from the Twin Cities to interview me and ask me what I did to catch this giant fish. In looking back now after many years have gone by, I still remember that day so very well. It will be forever ingrained in my memory as the day that went down in the books.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Recalling that decisive turning point, out on the rocks, I knew at that moment, I should not make a move or a sound. So, in order to remain as still as possible, I held my breath until I felt my head started getting light from the lack of oxygen, but I didn’t want to lose my chance at glory, it was here in front of me, I just knew it! Then it happened, the largest Northern Pike I had ever seen was sliding through the rocks before my very eyes. It was here, my chance at being famous. I waited until I could stand it no more, I let out my breath and at the same time I came down hard with my garden rake, and it indeed met its mark. Time stood still; nothing seemed to move during that epoch moment. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, there appeared to be no movement from my trophy fish. I somehow knew that it was dead by the deep thrust of my rake into its back. I then began to relax my hold on this colossus from the underworld. But then, all of a sudden the giant pike decided to move and move it did. I grabbed hold of my rake, and I then realized that it was moving up stream very quickly, and I unwillingly began traveling with it. Looking down at my feet at that moment, I quickly understood that if I took one more step, I would be standing on the green slime that nearly ended my life just a few minutes before. I jerked back with all my might and I could feel the monster starting to give up in its effort to move upstream. Slowly, with much excruciating effort, I agonizingly pulled the giant towards the shore. Every muscle in my body ached as I slowly hauled my prize away from my own potential doom. As I was slowly dragging the giant inch by inch to the shoreline, I felt my strength slowly ebbing from my body, and I knew that I didn’t have the fortitude to make it to the shoreline. I realized that I needed to tap an unknown source of strength from somewhere in my being, and just like Edison, a flash of light came to me. I remembered the story of an old man who fished for a giant whale from my grade school reading class. I couldn’t remember the story’s title; it might have been “Mautly Dick” or something like that. I do though remember the fisherman’s name, it was “Ahab”. He too had to fight with his white giant of the depths. As I tried to remember more of the story, my mind began fogging over. I soon started to feel weaker and weaker as my thoughts began escaping me as soon as they entered my brain. Somehow I had to remember how it turned out for Ahab. This is what would give me the will and strength to go on. Nothing seemed to come to mind though, so at that critical moment in time; I decided to write my own conclusion to the story. This is how it would end, “Ahab would be successful in catching his fish, and so I too was going to do the same.” He didn’t give up, and neither would I. I strained with all my might giving one last great heave; I now felt my legs having renewed strength as I neared the shore. With my one last ounce of effort, I heaved the giant that I now called “Mautly,” to the shoreline. I knew that I was now going to be famous and admired by the world, just like Ahab was. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As I lay there gazing down at my prize of a lifetime, I imagined myself on the front page of many different newspapers with my giant pike hanging behind my equally giant smile. But, as with many great successes, there can be great failures as well. As I was smiling at my trophy fish, I noticed my brother Ken approaching from downstream. He arrived I noticed carrying his fishing pole and all his many lures in hand. Looking at all his expensive gear, I thought to myself, “I will not have to spend another dime in the future to catch lesser prizes.” Refocusing my eyes to my brother once again, I looked up to see him gazing thoughtfully at my prize, not saying a word. I now expected him to be in somewhat awe over being the brother of a famous person to be, but that is not was happened. Instead of gleefully congratulating me, he instead, took all the wind out of my sails by saying, “You know brother, I think that it is illegal to fish with a garden rake.” Then, at that very moment in hearing my brother's words, my future glories came crashing down on my head. Instead of joy, guilt swept over me and I could only get mad at myself for not checking out the laws on this first. I remember seeing in the rulebook a picture of a spear, but no image of a garden rake. Since I didn’t know for sure at the time, it definitely was too late to find out now. I had already caught the fish and I use the term “caught” rather loosely. Ken then patted me on the shoulder with a look of consolation. He then started home. As he climbed the riverbank, I noticed something hanging from his stringer. It was two very large Northern Pike that he was trying to hang onto. I could see that he was struggling with their weight, so I called to Ken and said that I would help with his catch. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As I was walking with Ken in silence, we both were lost in thought. For myself, my reach for glory was not to be. With some far reaching desire for consolation, my thoughts went to Edison, (my childhood hero) once more, being a positive person that he was, I remember reading about him being asked by a rather negative reporter about his 1000 attempts at finding the right filament for his light bulb, “How did it feel to fail 1000 times?” By which Edison replied, “I didn’t fail 1000 times. The bulb was an invention with 1000 steps.”<span style="color: #545454;"> </span>So with the same conviction, I reevaluated my recent endeavors in a positive outlook as an attempt in finding the easier way to a rather hard task of fishing. Upon further reflection as we walked up our driveway, I wondered, “Did Ahab have to let go of his fish that he speared?”</span></div>
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-9243681895245652762019-10-23T13:15:00.002-05:002019-10-23T13:27:12.150-05:00The Trials of Fishing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Fishing as a young lad can be very exciting in the Spring-time. Walleye and Northern Pike are seen working their way up the river to spawn, and they are hungry for any food that comes their way. Fishermen of all ages get excited over the possibility of catching the really big one to take home as a trophy, as well as enjoying the scrumptious meal with the family. Young boys are often seen watching the older more experienced fisherman. These elderly gentlemen are observed working their trade with their special lures and certain kinds of casting techniques that they effortlessly pitch into the swirling depths of the river before them. Watching these gentlemen fish as a youth was one of my greatest experiences that I could have as a young lad. These elder fishermen somehow knew where the best spots were, and the best time of day to catch these trophy fish. If a boy chose not to learn from these older anglers, he might walk home disappointed with no fish to show for his efforts. Then again, there were days where dumb luck entered into the scene and some kid walked home outshining the older fellows, but these times were few and far between. Overall though, fishing was a lot of fun with all its ups and downs. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Each day when heading to the dam I would first check out the people that got their before me. If they had full stringers filled with wonderful fish, then I knew that it was going to be a good day for fishing. If their stringers on the other hand were empty or had bullheads on them, then it would be better for me to head home and pursue some other endeavor. Perhaps I would ride my bike, or play in the park, and if I had bean-walking money in my pocket, I would head to my great uncles’ pool hall and play Snooker or Eight Ball. Either way, I wasn’t going to sit on some riverbank and swat mosquitoes the rest of the hot afternoon and get nothing to show for it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">At times though, events bare fruit in different ways other than fishing, even when you are trying to catch the big one, and it gets away. One day in particular I was on the bank fishing and some boys stopped by to see how it was going. I told them of the many fish I had caught (at the time I had an empty stringer that I had hidden in the water) and the different fishing techniques that I used. They seemed impressed, so I continued on with my oration. As I paused with my dissertation of my vast skills, they asked me if it was hard fishing. I looked up into the air as if relaying my extensive knowledge to a much larger invisible audience, and at that crucial moment, I saw myself as a font of wisdom, so I went on with my lecture, “Well boys, a man named Confusion once said “If you love what you do, you will not work a day in your life” They seemed overly impressed with my skills, my vast vocabulary and knowledge, so much so that they wanted to take up fishing as well. Just then, the noon whistle went off and they headed home to eat, but I could see from the expressions on their faces that they were sufficiently inspired. For myself, I waited until they were out of sight to pull my empty stringer out of the water and quickly head home to dinner as well. </span></div>
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-6101466961523986342019-10-19T11:15:00.001-05:002019-10-19T11:16:04.876-05:00Horse Riding Adventures From My Childhood<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Horse Riding Adventures From My Childhood</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Growing up in the 50’s and 60’s children like myself watched many westerns on T.V. It was the adventure of the unknown that sparked every child’s imagination while cowboys led their horses and cattle into unfamiliar territory. There were cattle rustlers, gunslingers, and wild cowboy towns filled with wild women and rowdy men. Marshalls were trying to keep the peace all the while cowboys who had been on the cattle trails for months were seen blowing off steam, sometimes with too much enthusiasm. Young lads from every strata of society watched movies like Gunsmoke, Bonanza, and The Rifleman religiously. Filling this frenzy for more, boys asked for 6 gun shooters (cap guns) along with chaps, holsters and of course the white and black cowboy hats. When not being able to afford the plastic headed horse with a broomstick attached, one just “borrowed” mom’s kitchen broom that is until she saw that it was left in the yard near our imaginary buried gunslingers on “Boot Hill.” Endless days were spent playing into the twilight hours when mother’s throughout the neighborhood collectively hollered for their young cowboys to head back to the ranch for supper and bed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">It was not uncommon for homes to have hats and pistol belts hanging from the boys’ bedroom doors. This of course was needed in case any desperado was found slinking by in the middle of the night. If you could afford it, and your trail bosses (mom and dads) would let you get them, caps for your 6 shooters were the “Cats’ Meow”. After purchasing them at the Ben Franklin Five and Dime stores, they usually lasted a young cowboy about two days, or until an unknown varmint needed shooting in the middle of the night. After the midnight shootout rendezvous, pets in the household usually hid under the bed for the rest of the night while little cowboys had their arms or (six shooters) taken away until morning. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In our house we had a Chihuahua that thought she was a German Sheppard. She was fearless until something like another dog, regardless of size ventured too close, and then our courageous canine would head under the bed and shake. Someone needed to protect the area under the bed, why not our little dog. She would guard my brothers and sisters fearlessly, that is, until pretty much anyone or anything came by. And when that happened she would advance to the underside of the bed, which she thought desperately needed defending at the time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Westerns had become so much the fabric of our lives as little boys growing up, that we ate, slept, and thought of cowboy life pretty much during every waking hour. Our parents patiently waited for this phase to pass, but they were also the ones who joined in on the western shows on T.V. as well. During the day, when our father was at work, we would invent the wild-west not only in our imagination, but also in our neighborhood as well. Behind our home Mr. E. (another neighbor) had an area fenced off for his private zoo. It encompassed many acres of woods, ravines and exotic animals he collected. As young boys we would not only venture into this area, but we would be cowboys out on a roundup, but instead of horses, there were peacocks, Japanese deer, antelope, and of course lions as well. We felt that if we had our cap guns with us, nothing could harm us. Now as an adult, when looking back at this time, I now know that the lions that Mr. E. had were pretty tame. I was told that one day he rode one to work for the others to see and enjoy. I was also told that he would occasionally let a lion out when a salesman drove into his place. This would for some reason would discourage the most of energetic of salesman from exiting their cars when the lion would jump up against the window of his vehicle. Later I would learn that the salesman would drive away never to return again to Mr. E.’s place. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As in the old west, the sheriff would play a major role in keeping the peace in these tumultuous times. Our town too had a sheriff, and he happened to live next door to us. Sheriff Benjamin was a very kind man and he seemed to understand children very well. Like in the old west, we had railroad tracks going near our home. And like what happened in the old west, Hobo’s would ride the rail and come to our town as well. When entering our town, they would need a place to stay and food to fill their empty stomachs. Sheriff Benjamin being kind and feeling sorry for them, he would let them stay in his barn in the back and his kind wife would give them food to eat. After having a couple of days gone by, I would discover that they were no where to be found. They had left early in the morning, our temporary neighbor had taken the next train out heading west. Boxcars were plentiful during this time and they made ideal places for hobos to ride in. Sometimes though the boys in the neighborhood would sneak out at night and we would meet at the Benjamin’s barn, all with intent of listening to the hobo’s telling us about all the places in the world that they had seen. While they spoke, visions popped into our heads of riding with them on the rail, our holsters filled with fresh caps and cowboy hats hanging from our necks as we would ride west into cowboy territory, seeing the wild west in all its excitement that it would bring our way. As we sat around the hobo’s campfire, our eyes would bulge with all the tales they would tell us, and later, we would head home to bed with all the makings of wonderful dreams to come. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I remember when I was 7, we moved to another part of town that was near the river and near the woods, as well as pasture land that belonged to our neighbors, the Olsons. The Olson’s had two horses. They were not ridden much in the winter months and when spring came, they (the horses) had it in their collective minds not to let anyone ride them. Toby was a Shetland pony and Ginger was a rather large mare. Wanting in the worst way to finally ride a horse, I asked our neighbors if I could ride Ginger. They reluctantly said yes, but they put the stipulation that she hadn’t been ridden in months and most likely would buck me off. I accepted the challenge and readily jumped on to her back. Riding bare back with no reins I thought would be easy, after all, the Indains in the old west did it all the time. That was a fatal error in judgement on my part. Upon getting on Olson’s horse, the neighbor boy let Ginger go and her eyes almost seemed to come out of her head with horror. All of sudden she stood back on her hind legs and I thought she would fall back on me and I would be only recognized by a cowboy belt as they put me in the casket all flattened into mush with two eyeballs popped out of my head and a stupid smile on my face. As Ginger reared back I instinctively grabbed tighter on her mane and that only make it worse. She really got upset at that point. I could only imagine what she was thinking, “Who does this little upstart think he is, pulling on my mane and trying to ride on my back!” Ginger instantly came down on all four legs and then broke into a full gallop racing down the gravel path at full speed. Making a sharp right turn I barely managed to hold on all the while Ginger was bellowing out screams that I thought a horse could not make. I have to say that I too was getting pretty excited at that moment. Holding on for dear life, I then realized maybe Ginger would calm down, she then stood in one place, let out a growl of anger and then proceeded to run at a full gallop. Trying to hold on with just her mane to grab hold of, I found my body bouncing in the air as if in slow motion as the horse began to pickup speed. At that moment I thought that the rest of the neighborhood boys were probably in awe over my abilities with horse riding. Just then though, Ginger put both front hooves out in front of her and stopped abruptly. She skidded to a quick halt all the while I found myself sailing past her head as if in slow motion. But, in reality I was flying very fast into the air as I glided down to the level of the ground, skidding across the gravel past my friends, chin first. The boys watching broke out in hysterical laughter while I on the other hand was trying to get my lungs working again by gasping for any air that I could muster after having the wind knocked out them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">My friends picked me off the ground, but as I was being led away, I looked over at Ginger and I swear I could see her smiling and nodding at me as she slowly turned</span></div>
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-53410786758864016332019-10-12T23:06:00.001-05:002019-10-14T20:33:16.509-05:00Push Karts, A Childhood Story<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Many times when testing out new items in their lines, manufacturers will hire special people to test their products to the limits of their endurance. This in turn produces goods that will handle the worst of punishments and yet remain intact. The outcome leads to customer satisfaction, and that is what determines product sales in the long term. Children pick up on these cues as well when constructing their inventions which leads me to my story. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I remember one time my two brothers, Mike, and Ken were planning to build push karts and when I heard of it, I asked to join in on their project. They generously granted my request and a great adventure began. Mike, being the older brother and filled with more wisdom and experience, was our leader. He said that our “karts” must be strong and be able to handle the worst of punishments. Ken and I respecting our big brother’s logic, agreed. We wanted to make our race vehicles strong, sleek and yet light enough for speed. Yet it was in the design phase that we soon found that we had to air out a few bugs along the way. Not wanting to plan to far ahead, we stuck with the idea of having fast push karts and the rest we would figure out later.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Before purchasing our building materials, we first had to earn the money, check! That was accomplished by picking rocks for the farmers who never were in short supply of these. One day while working for a local farmer, I looked over the area in front of me and I sighed at the thousands of rocks that had yet to be put on the wagon. I thought, “I just picked these rocks up a year ago, how is it that they are here again? Does the farmer just dump them on the hill in the fall because he runs out of space on his farm, or is it some other unforeseen event that causes this to happen year after year; I was definitely perplexed and wanted an answer in my tormented anguish. I then sought the wisdom of the hired man whom I thought was much smarter than myself. I asked, “How is it that these rocks keep reappearing each year Mr. H.?” He thought for a good many minutes, then scratching his chin this towering figure of strength and wisdom said, “Well let me tell you Augie, it is the Chinese that keep pushing them up every year!” Bitten with intense curiosity, I got closer to hear his wisdom. “You see they are on the opposite end of our Earth and that is how they get rid of them.” Being a somewhat skeptical 8 year old I said, “Are you sure?” He responded by putting on the most serious look possible on his face, he then bent over to my somewhat short stature and said, “Of course I’m sure!” Not wanting to create more puzzles for myself than I had to, I left this dilemma for another time. I now needed to concentrate on more important things, how I was going to construct my awesome pushcart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The three of us having worked very hard for our money, now a month later, had enough to purchase the items that we needed for the pushcarts. We went to our local hardware store, (Bob’s Fleet Supply) and bought six lengths of rods for the axles, 12 wheels to fit over the axles and cotter keys to hold the wheels on. Next, we went to our local lumberyard to buy the 2/4’s for the frame and axle supports. The next challenge hit me was when I was starting to walk home. How was I going to walk four 8’ long - 2”x4” two miles across town? This was going to be one of my biggest challenges that I faced up until this point. Then it dawned of me; “Why not just float them on the river!” Since the river went through town, by floating them rather than carrying them such a long distance seemed like a world-shattering thought? But, when walking down to the riverbank I discovered that the current was going the wrong way. I lived up river and the current was heading the opposite direction. I would later be forever grateful for not exercising that not so thought out plan. I could just see myself floating down river with 2/4’s on either side of me heading to Iowa, never to be seen again. Many years later, I thought of that not so bright idea when the Army had us doing just about the same thing in officer training at Fort Lewis, but instead of 2/4’s it was with rifles, ponchos, and another guy helping me to hold on to our collective gear all the while we were cascading down some very cold glacier rapids. After bouncing off rocks and swirling around in the frigid currents, my river rat friend and I wondered if we would ever survive, and if our blood would ever return to their collective homes in our legs again. At that low point in my life and seeing my world flash before me, I derived some aggravated comfort in knowing that I was not the only one with stupid ideas. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Next, we needed more goods from Bob’s Fleet Supply. It was our next stop in providing us with the necessary items for our steering. We needed to purchase 4” long bolts that were to fasten the 2”x4”s, and the steel axles to the steering mechanism that would pivot back and forth allowing us to steer our push karts. Along with the steering mechanisms, we needed to purchase braces for the axle supports as well as 12 penny nails (about 3” long) for the glue that was to hold our frame together. While heading home with our wares we walked with proud struts by the encouraging steps in our plans that we made, and we were on our way to having the greatest push karts in the city. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The next part of our strategic plan was to go next door to Hample’s Repair and ask Roy Hample if he would drill the holes in our axles for the cotter keys that would hold the wheels on. Roy was always kind to us and I am sure he did not charge us the full price for his labor. Overall, the construction process was somewhat hurried at times with steps being skipped, due more to expedience than caution. We realized when assembling the axles for instance, that they needed to be attached to the 2/4’s somehow. When reasoning further, I thought that we could go back to Bob’s Fleet Supply and perhaps they would have the perfect supports for our metal axles. It was a great idea, but that would mean that we would have to pick more rocks for the money to buy them. At that moment, my thoughts wondered to the hill of a thousand stones. I sighed with deep remorse over going back to that place where the Chinese were having so much fun in torturing me by having me pick up all their rocks for them. I then said to my brothers, “How about we just take our nails and bend them over to hold the steel axles on!” Many minds make a job possible and sometimes, not so possible. Now looking back at those moments of discovery and invention, I can see sometimes we as adults make expedient moves as well, that do in fact cost many extra dollars to a project and sometimes more importantly, lives as in the Challenger space project. In the Challenger case it was a small O-ring that was the item in question. Sitting in my graduate class we discussed the dilemma of speedy time lines, cost overruns, and deadlines that create a dilemma called, “Group Think”. This is when those in the decision-making groups pressure others to forget about safety standards into believing it can be fixed later. If an individual in the group protests and stands alone in the group, they are pressured into conforming to the group’s consensus. In our case, it was the belief of Mike and I that bending the nails that was the best option. Ken though had some reservations about the ability of our nails holding the axles on. We quickly reminded him that the alternative was to head out to the rock pile and work another day to earn enough for the axle supports. Going through the agonizing moments with Ken, convincing him that it was more important to get the job done than in facing the hill of a thousand rocks again. It seemed to make more sense to us in bending the nails over the axles versus every minute facing the trials on the rock hill. After what seemed like an eternity, Ken saw that the nails were not such a bad option! Later, I wondered if Ken agreeing to let his brother into Mike and his kart building plans might have been a mistake. Oh well, I found that being 8 years old, it isn’t good to dwell on such ideas. They can get in the way of progress.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The next challenge was that of safety, how could we go down our steep hill that lied before us and not end up flying out of the carts when reaching nearing what I thought was the speed of sound? But more importantly, it was when turning at a sharp 90-degree angle at the T section at the bottom of the hill that was our greatest concern. None of us wanted to think of what it would look like being propelled at ultra high speeds into Mr. Carlson’s Super Fair’s rear store entrance or worse yet, his dumpster in the back. Our budget was now exhausted and we had to use the resources at hand, but what could we do? As perplexing as this next hurdle was, it dawned on me, ingenious thoughts come when needs are the greatest, or as I strained to remember at the time, some Geek or Greek (I’m not sure) philosopher once said, {Plato I think}, “Necessity is the Mother of Invention” and in a flash I saw the solution, “Nail my Sunday church belt to the cart’s seat!” After all, we reasoned that I will only used it once a week, and who would notice a small nail hole in the back of the belt. One quickly realizes that it is relatively easy to overcome guilt when there is consensus in the group. We were soon discovering that a guilty conscience is an easy load to carry when shared with others. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The next dilemma that we faced was making the cart as light as possible, how to do that was the question. As we were looking at the possible trajectories that our bodies might fly by not having the necessary restraints, Mike noticed peach crates piled up in a dumpster. Ingenious, Mike was the thinker and he solved our problem. After consulting with Mr. Carlson, he gave us his peach crates and his only payment was that we give him a smile. With that payment processed we headed on our way to victory. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What one sees in the mind sometimes is greater than the sum of one’s thoughts. But I wasn’t going to let road blocks enter into the scheme of things. If I did that, I wouldn’t get anything done. Ken’s idea of dismantling the walls of the peach crates and then layering them on the floor of the kart was very clever. Together, they were very strong and yet light weight. I was glad in having such great thinkers for brothers. Our dream was taking flight and I could now see the shape of a very sleek kart before my eyes. As I looked it over I wondered how safe it would be if indeed it decided to roll over while speeding down the hill. I knew that we couldn’t even afford helmets that would protect our heads, but what was the solution of protecting all of our body parts? I could now stay in the kart with my Sunday belt, but it wouldn’t help me from banging the rest of my body when I was catapulting through the air without some form of protection. Reasoning over this for sometime, I finally found it was my moment to shine. I suggested to my brothers that we needed to enclose the cart for maximum protection. Mike stood there rubbing his chin and Ken sighed and went, “hmm”. We cogitated over this for some minutes and the light of inspiration once again struck, I said, “How about we put one peach crate the long way to protect the legs and two upright crates to guard the head from any injury!” Both of my brothers thought further and said that it might work, but it had to be with my kart that we experimented with. I readily agreed to the terms and we hastily set the crates on the kart. The next hurdle was how to fasten them to the frame? We had no glue, staples or small nails, the only fasteners that we had were the 12-penny nails. Oh well, it will have to do I told my brothers, “We can make this work!” When looking at the finished product, “from a distance” it looked not to bad!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">With every challenge that comes in life, I believe that there is a way to overcome it. I believed that we did meet the obstacles head on and we did indeed triumph over them. I looked at my sleek pushcart and knew that brains and determination went behind its every round of development. No man or boy could have been more proud of one’s creation than I was. As I was gleefully walking around this product of formidable claims, I saw the culmination of man’s finest feat of ingenuity. But before my head was about to explode with pride, Ken said in low tones, “We still need to try it out and see how safe it really is.” I looked at him with great misgivings and perhaps some disdain for trying in what seemed to me as an attempt to halt my monument to mankind. I then said in a sullen voice, “Do you have any thoughts on how to do that?” He said that rolling it down sideways on the gentle slope of our grassy hill would be a good way to test it. And with that suggestion, I readily agreed to the plan. I was at that point eager to take away any misgivings on his part and prove that my idea was good.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Getting into the upright peach crate proved to be more of a challenge than I had first anticipated. First of all, the opening was from the front and my body had to contort every which way to squeeze into the small space. After about 5 minutes of bending my legs and extremities in ways that I thought previously impossible, I sat proudly down in my brand new pushcart. My brother Ken noticed the smile on my face and said in a questioning voice, “Hope it holds together?” I stared back at him with undaunted determination and responded in as positive voice as I could muster, “It will hold together, but thank you much!” Not letting Ken see my nervousness, in reality though, I was sweating bullets. The first thing I noticed was the 12-penny nails sticking out towards my head. The last thought that went through my mind was, “I should have bent them over!” But I didn’t get a chance to halt the proceedings because of the vigilance of my siblings. They were definitely in their test modes. I raised a weak hand in protest to stop the proceedings, but my voice got stuck somewhere in my throat and the words wouldn’t come out. The last things I remember was one of my brothers pushing me hard down the grassy hill and the other pushing my cart sideways. The next thing I realized in what seemed like the force of 10 gees grabbing a hold of me and all of sudden my body went limp as the force of the tumbling kart caused my head to bang from one side of the peach crate to the other. Flashes of large shiny nails went past my face at what seemed like the speed of light. When I thought my life was about to end, the top of the peach crate went flying off in one direction and my upper torso went in the other. Fortunately for me, the gravel driveway slowed my decent and all I could feel was the grinding of gravel against my cheek. The cart finally stopped with me being pinned in the remains of my dream. Refocusing my eyes, I could now see that the crate that covered my legs was left halfway up the hill, and the enclosure that went around my head for protection was lying next to me. At the same time I could feel the warmth of something running down my cheek. Undaunted by a little blood, I felt my limbs, they all seemed to be working and in order, and not the worse for wear. But then I looked near my face and I saw the glint of raw steel next to my eyes jutting out from the remains of the peach crate. All that I could think of at that moment was that I was truly in trouble with my guardian angel. He probably will show me all his puncture marks and scrapes when he escorts me to my heavenly home, and I imagine he will not be smiling. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">While getting out of the kart I could see one brother laughing uncontrollably while the other saying, “Hmm, didn’t think it would hold up, but it was worth a try!” The one thing that did work though was my Sunday belt, it kept me in the kart. I realized though that I would somehow have to ask for forgiveness since the nail hole in my Sunday belt was about the size of a dime. No hiding that, and no hiding my guilt for ruining a perfectly good belt. Though, in further thought, “It did save my life and that in itself I deemed as a very successful experiment!”</span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> Though my younger brother Curt was not born yet when these events took place, he had no less of a racing spirit than his 3 older brothers. Here is Curt as an adult racing his Sprint Car.</span></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C-fZblo2uXg/XaKh_F5DlVI/AAAAAAAAD4o/rBQrBi12kUs9SWOJVMz2fEp5KwRIJHqbwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Scan.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1249" data-original-width="1600" height="496" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C-fZblo2uXg/XaKh_F5DlVI/AAAAAAAAD4o/rBQrBi12kUs9SWOJVMz2fEp5KwRIJHqbwCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/Scan.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-50109194422878714702019-07-12T12:47:00.003-05:002019-07-12T12:48:16.720-05:00Let Us Not Forget<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span data-offset-key="9pce4-0-0"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">One day recently I was talking to a Jewish friend of mine. She told me how she lost individual family members to the concentration camps. I was so overwhelmed by this that it was all I could do to keep from weeping. I found myself apologizing for what had happened to her family. She looked at me quizzically and asked why I was apologizing. I could only respond by saying that someone needs apologize, we must all take the blame for what happened, otherwise it will happen again. </span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="coj6h-0-0"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> My thoughts went back to World War II and that of my father who was in the war. His best friend at the time was Jewish. Dad had black curly hair and looked much like his Jewish friend. My father told me of the insults thrown at his friend and just because he was Jewish, my father received the same insults. These were Americans acting this way. I was deeply saddened to here of this.</span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="fn47d-0-0"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Later when in college, I concentrated my Master's degree on World War II. I read of many accounts of war criminals at Nuremberg who sat in the docket. When asked why didn't they do anything about what they knew was going on around them, their response to the prosecutor was pretty much uniform with all those convicted, "What could I have done, I was only one person!" 6 million Jewish lives were taken, men, women, and children. I could only imagine what Hitler was thinking when he ordered this to be done, "Civilization will soon forget and at some point, they may even deny that it ever happened. They will forget because they do not want to remember this horror." I began to realize that the first stage in forgetting is to say, "What could I have done, I was only one person!" </span></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="bssau-0-0"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Let us not forget! Remember what has transpired so that we will not allow it to ever happen again. </span></span></div>
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-6875792021183597402019-04-28T18:18:00.001-05:002019-04-28T18:18:08.083-05:00Snowflakes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">When looking out at the snow falling here in late April, I’ve become discouraged at the seeming desire of winter to reassert itself, even while spring is in full bloom. Instead of looking at the beauty of new life forming all around, I find myself looking at the snowflakes instead. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">How many of us do just that when difficulties come our way. There is good in our midst, but we have is a tendency to only see the snowflakes instead. With prayer and surrender, when seeking God during these difficult times, we allow him to help us to see through his eyes of faith. We then begin to see that there is a divine purpose for all things that come our way. Some challenges cause us to grow, while others redirect us toward our Father’s purpose for our lives, and away from areas that might cause us greater pain and loss later on. In the end, God wants us to be at peace with ourselves by being filled with “his” love and purpose. We then find that we can grow in this love not only for Jesus, but also for his children and the world around us. </span></div>
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-71976983341459855192019-04-04T09:02:00.002-05:002019-04-04T09:02:47.145-05:00Letting Go<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">When reading in Acts 21 this morning, I saw that Christians whom the Apostle Paul had visited on his way to Jerusalem warned him not to go there. This was so, because the Holy Spirit had revealed to these Christians that Paul would be imprisoned in Jerusalem. These warnings were not only revealed to the Christians in Tyre, but also in Caesarea as well. In both cities it was revealed to Paul that his imprisonment would definitely take place if he visited Jerusalem. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Obviously this made Paul’s decision that much harder to </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">make, “Do I save myself and do what my friends want me to do and not carry out God’s plan, or do I go through with God’s destiny for me?” For Paul, it only solidified his decision to go where God was calling him, even if it meant imprisonment, or for that matter, death. The decision was ultimately Paul’s to make, and his friends knew that, even though they saw a different direction they themselves would go if in Paul’s place. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Why then even when his friends saw God’s destiny for Paul did they not want him to go? I believe, feelings of love and compassion were ruling their hearts; they wanted to save Paul all the suffering that was awaiting him and they did not want to lose him. I think that it is much the same for us as parents as well. We want to spare our children suffering and pain over the potential dangerous and/or not so thought out choices they sometimes plan to make. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2Ozck-JxnUI/XKYI9AEw-MI/AAAAAAAAD2c/1H2pqRGEPZ0cV_AbDlpEQSd_7bfAvcLWwCEwYBhgL/s1600/664380_10203661530002807_2070123997513879164_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2Ozck-JxnUI/XKYI9AEw-MI/AAAAAAAAD2c/1H2pqRGEPZ0cV_AbDlpEQSd_7bfAvcLWwCEwYBhgL/s320/664380_10203661530002807_2070123997513879164_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We though as parents realize that their choices are what they must indeed make for themselves alone. At times, the harder we try to dissuade them from the direction they are heading, the more they go against us. It is not that they want to make bad choices, but they desire to make the decisions for themselves. Loving them is a process of letting go and allowing our loved ones to venture out and discover for themselves life and all its many directions that it may take them. Being a source of council when they ask for it, and loving them in spite of our difference of opinions is sometimes difficult to say the least, but we must trust God to protect them and for him to carry out his plan for their lives, as he sees fit. Ironically God sees us the same way that we see our children, with love, total acceptance and always allowing us to make our own decisions, but always being there for us when we call on him for directions, advice and unconditional love. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-69831149393549179002019-03-24T20:08:00.002-05:002019-03-24T20:16:00.317-05:00Stress vs. God<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WVXuXpcH6Ug/XJgpQmDoD_I/AAAAAAAAD1w/UggcOwPqDIg6U0CpEe3MaItsygASPCYGwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_5339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WVXuXpcH6Ug/XJgpQmDoD_I/AAAAAAAAD1w/UggcOwPqDIg6U0CpEe3MaItsygASPCYGwCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_5339.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">The wood pile is about gone and the new roof is being tested. It seems that we as humans either show our best when under pressure, or we reveal our hidden cracks and flaws. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lD_-GpTw17k/XJgpLgSZieI/AAAAAAAAD1o/qtWIMC4W6eUpHpU7GFYLIB3UzCp4-AovACEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_5329.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1264" data-original-width="1600" height="252" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lD_-GpTw17k/XJgpLgSZieI/AAAAAAAAD1o/qtWIMC4W6eUpHpU7GFYLIB3UzCp4-AovACEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_5329.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">It is during these times of testing that God can help us to grow by seeking him, as well as trusting God for his guidance. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: x-large;">"You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." </span><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: x-large;">Jeremiah 29:13</span><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: x-large;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1IGqjhIz9h4/XJgpMTT4LbI/AAAAAAAAD1s/QdPd3IdgQ4YUPIDzIffP82pf0E-vEb0BACEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_5328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1IGqjhIz9h4/XJgpMTT4LbI/AAAAAAAAD1s/QdPd3IdgQ4YUPIDzIffP82pf0E-vEb0BACEwYBhgL/s640/IMG_5328.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-91287463827629439292019-03-13T22:01:00.000-05:002019-03-13T22:04:07.437-05:00Reflections of Life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">Sometimes in life we accept situations as real, but they are, at times, only reflections of reality. God helps us to see past the troubles that paralyze us at times. All we have to do is ask him to give us his eyes and heart to see things as he does. Ephesians 1:18 "I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people. . ."</span></span></div>
August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-9825946728124288172019-01-26T17:38:00.000-06:002019-01-26T17:41:48.377-06:00Honoring Those Who Serve Us<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666;">No words can express my love for this little girl God has given me. About four years ago at Disney World we were eating in the Land at Epcot. Abby saw a hard work</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #666666; display: inline;">ing college intern cleaning tables. Abby went over and spoke with this lady who was working so hard and who was unnoticed in a crowd of people. I could see the young lady signing something (the young lady's autograph). I watched earlier Abby doing this same thing with Micky/Minnie and the various princess'. For the rest of my life I will remember this photo of Abby making a young lady feel like a princess. A couple of days later I saw this same college student picking up waste that others had dropped in the fairway heading to the attractions at Epcot. Abby and Anne were walking ahead of me when I noticed this very same young lady stopping her work and smiling at Abby as she passed. I have a feeling this one little act of kindness will be remembered by this young lady for the rest of her life. I know that I will never forget it. Children can teach us so much. </span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="color: #666666; display: inline;"><br />Romans 12:10<br />Be devoted to one another in brotherly love; give preference to one another in honor.</span></span></div>
August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-48822717166461330182019-01-08T19:17:00.001-06:002019-01-08T19:17:48.860-06:00In The Midst Of The Storm<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Recently on a trip back from southern Texas to Minnesota, we ran into heavy rain for two straight days. Before returning, we as a family prayed for safe travels on our 1,500 mile return trip. I told God in my prayer that day that we trusted him for our safety, but God had something else in mind, he was going to help my faith to grow.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">While driving back, we had to take alternate routes in avoiding heavy traffic around major cities, this would normally prove to be non-eventful, but with the storms coming through, it was anything but normal. Many of the streets of the small towns we went through had limited gutters for the excessive rain that was coming down, and so, at times, we found ourselves going through streets that turned into small rivers of water which consequently pulled our vehicle to one side of the road or the other. This was more than challenging when traveling at higher speeds when the out of town roads in the country were barely visible. The water in the dark of the night was the same color as the asphalt service that we were driving on, which made the heavy water streaming across the rain soaked roads very much a major hazard. As I drove I tried to keep calm not wanting to make my family nervous, so I gave an air of serenity, but inside I was wondering if God was in fact keeping us safe. I found myself praying for our safety as I drove all the while showing my loved ones a peaceful smile. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">During a time of darkness while still south of Dallas, we got weather reports of heavy rain coming our way. I wondered to myself, “Heavier than now, how could that be?” And at that moment our electronic road guide said that we had to take an unforeseen left turn up ahead and this road would take us to the interstate. I thought, “God is blessing us now!” Anne was driving at the time when we promptly came to a railroad crossing out in the middle of nowhere and the lights started to flicker on the crossing arms. I looked both ways and I barely spotted a lone train traveling at a walking speed. I thought, “What now!” My thoughts became vocal before I realized it and concern showed on Anne’s face. We watched the train move painfully slow past us and the only consolation was that it looked like a very small train with only a handful of cars trailing behind the engine. Abby confirmed this when she said, “Dad, it is only a small train, this won’t be a long wait!” I was relieved at that, but it seemed when looking through the heavy rain, that the train was producing cars out of thin air. I thought, “How could that be?” Then to make matters worse, the engine stopped right on the railroad crossing that we needed to drive over. It sat there and it sat there. It was about this time that we switched drivers and I found myself drumming the steering wheel with my fingers and Anne could see the frustration mounting in me. It had been a very long drive in heavy rain and I was so looking forward to a bed with warm sheets enveloping my tired body. Finally after waiting for the train to move, which it seemed an eternity, Anne suggested that we plot a new course. Anne typed in another route and the navigation system plotted the new directions. I turned the car around and we began a new route. After a few miles my frustration began to cool, but I still wondered why God was not hearing our prayers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">No sooner than this thought left me when Anne said that she</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> discovered that the same road that we were about to travel on, (train blocked our way route) was flooded over and was very dangerous to travel on. I was humbled by this news and I found myself asking God for forgiveness for doubting him. I then realized that God had indeed a plan for us, and for our safety as well. He planted the train where it was his design to stop us, as well as the other vehicles waiting behind us from a possible tragedy. I remembered a few years earlier of how when a bad rain storm back home in Winona caused creeks to turn into raging rivers and how an elderly couple traveling down the road in front of our home drove unsuspectingly into the washed out road and into the raging river and consequently to their deaths. Shivers went up and down my spine at that moment realizing that could have been us this night.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">God proved again to us the next day that his guiding hands were upon us when a large Red Tail Hawk decided to fly perpendicular across our front windshield. The hawk’s wingspan was around 4 to close to 5 feet across. A Red Tailed Hawk’s eye- sight can see a mouse ten stories from up above, but it obviously didn’t see our vehicle. I saw it take off from the grassy median up ahead, and it hadn’t gained much take off speed before turning toward our car. In a split second I could just see it crashing through our front windshield with disastrous effect. Then all of a sudden when its talons were level with our glass windshield, it went straight up like some giant hand had picked it up out of our way. It happened all in a split second, but time seemed to slow down to a fraction of its normal speed, all the while we were holding our collective breathes, waiting for the huge impact to occur. Anne and I just looked at each other with mouths hanging open in surprise trying to absorb what had just happened. We once again saw God’s hand delivering us from danger. Again, we could only thank our Lord for his divine protection. It was a time of trust and growth for me, and a time of being thankful for His mighty provisions.</span></div>
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-61875945909431211722018-12-20T07:50:00.003-06:002018-12-20T07:50:40.075-06:00Practicing Thankfulness<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-weight: normal;">In the book of Luke, Chapter17 verses 11-19 we read of Jesus healing the ten lepers. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><sup><span style="font-family: Georgia;">“</span></sup><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Now on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus traveled along the border between Samaria and Galilee. As he was going into a village, ten men who had leprosy met him. They stood at a distance<sup> </sup>and called out in a loud voice, “Jesus, Master, have pity on us!”</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><sup><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span></sup><span style="font-family: Georgia;">When he saw them, he said, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were cleansed.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><sup><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span></sup><span style="font-family: Georgia;">One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. <sup> </sup>He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him—and he was a Samaritan.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><sup><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span></sup><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Jesus asked, “Were not all ten cleansed? Where is the other nine? <sup> </sup>Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?” Then he said to him, “Rise and go; your faith has made you well.” Here we see that it was a Samaritan that made the choice in returning to give thanks to Jesus for his healing. The other nine quickly forgot about their recent plight and went back to their old lives again. This seems very counter intuitive for us in understanding thankfulness. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">In this passage we see that the lepers stood at a distance when first addressing Jesus. We have to ask why? The reason is that whether a person was a Jew or Samaritan, they would have been quickly stoned by getting too close to those who were well. They were supposed to stay in the Leper Colony and there they would live and die isolated from the rest of humanity. By leaving the camp they knew that if seen by anyone, they took the chance of being killed and as you can see, it was a very big chance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">When leaving the camp they as a group knew that Jesus was their only hope of getting well and so the risk outweighed their security of staying in the Leper Camp. One can only imagine their fear, anxiety, and trepidation when starting out on this dangerous journey. So, if the risks were so high, then one has to ask, “Why didn’t they come back and thank Jesus for such a wonderful miracle as their healing?” Was it short-term memory loss, or that of being so overjoyed that they forgot how and who it was that healed them? I know that it seems utterly amazing that this would even happen, or at least until I have examined my own life as well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">In recalling the many answered prayers that I have been given and the times that I failed to thank the Lord for them, then I realize that I too fall into the 9 who didn’t return. What of the time I hesitated at the stoplight and then saw a speeding car run the red light or the time that I felt strongly not to go out into the night and realized later that the road was not safe for driving on? “Was it God who was prompting me not to do what I was about to do?” I believe yes it was and the Bible is full of occasions where God sent his guardian angels to protect, guide, minister to and keep safe his children. When I failed to say thank you for these things, it was I who focused too much on myself, and the situation rather than on thanking God for his kindness, protection, and generosity. “Please Father, give me a heart of thankfulness today by opening my eyes, ears and heart to your guiding presence.”</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-80871140179677874552018-12-14T16:59:00.002-06:002018-12-14T16:59:22.260-06:00Practicing Thankfulness<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-weight: normal;">In the book of Luke, Chapter17 verses 11-19 we read of Jesus healing the ten lepers. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><sup><span style="font-family: Georgia;">“</span></sup><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Now on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus traveled along the border between Samaria and Galilee. As he was going into a village, ten men who had leprosy met him. They stood at a distance<sup> </sup>and called out in a loud voice, “Jesus, Master, have pity on us!”</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><sup><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span></sup><span style="font-family: Georgia;">When he saw them, he said, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were cleansed.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><sup><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span></sup><span style="font-family: Georgia;">One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. <sup> </sup>He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him—and he was a Samaritan.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><sup><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span></sup><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Jesus asked, “Were not all ten cleansed? Where is the other nine? <sup> </sup>Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?” Then he said to him, “Rise and go; your faith has made you well.” Here we see that it was a Samaritan that made the choice in returning to give thanks to Jesus for his healing. The other nine quickly forgot about their recent plight and went back to their old lives again. This seems very counter intuitive for us in understanding thankfulness. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">In this passage we see that the lepers stood at a distance when first addressing Jesus. We have to ask why? The reason is that whether a person was a Jew or Samaritan, they would have been quickly stoned by getting too close to those who were well. They were supposed to stay in the Leper Colony and there they would live and die isolated from the rest of humanity. By leaving the camp they knew that if seen by anyone, they took the chance of being killed and as you can see, it was a very big chance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">When leaving the camp they as a group knew that Jesus was their only hope of getting well and so the risk outweighed their security of staying in the Leper Camp. One can only imagine their fear, anxiety, and trepidation when starting out on this dangerous journey. So, if the risks were so high, then one has to ask, “Why didn’t they come back and thank Jesus for such a wonderful miracle as their healing?” Was it short-term memory loss, or that of being so overjoyed that they forgot how and who it was that healed them? I know that it seems utterly amazing that this would even happen, or at least until I have examined my own life as well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">In recalling the many answered prayers that I have been given and the times that I failed to thank the Lord for them, then I realize that I too fall into the 9 who didn’t return. What of the time I hesitated at the stoplight and then saw a speeding car run the red light or the time that I felt strongly not to go out into the night and realized later that the road was not safe for driving on? “Was it God who was prompting me not to do what I was about to do?” I believe yes it was and the Bible is full of occasions where God sent his guardian angels to protect, guide, minister to and keep safe his children. When I failed to say thank you for these things, it was I who focused too much on myself, and the situation rather than on thanking God for his kindness, protection, and generosity. “Please Father, give me a heart of thankfulness today by opening my eyes, ears and heart to your guiding presence.”</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-43923799966066010492018-12-13T09:00:00.002-06:002018-12-13T12:50:50.417-06:00Through a Child's Eyes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Many times God uses our children to show us the way to our hearts. One day last summer, when returning home from Target we noticed a woman standing alongside the road. She was dressed in a very colorful skirt that was blowing in the gentle warm breeze. I noticed that her hair was shrouded by an enormous hat that covered her head, as well as her shoulders. The hat made it difficult to see her face as she looked down towards the road. I then noticed all her bags beside her and I knew that she was on a long journey. I looked over at Abby and she at the same time looked at me. “Dad, I don’t think she has a place to live!” I agreed with her and so with my daughter’s leading, we drove over next to her. She was somewhere in her late 50’s and was wearing a larger than life smile. As we got near to her , Abby asked me if we could give her something to help her out. Seeing that she had many needs, I searched my wallet for something to give to her. All I had was a ten dollar bill. Abby smiled at me and reached out of the car to give it to her, and this woman accepted it with a kind smile and said, “Thank you!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We talked with her for a long while and she told us that she had lived in the area many years ago. Her family had fallen on hard times and she now was heading west in an attempt to meet up with a friend. I glanced over at Abby and I could see the compassion that Abby held in her heart for this kind woman. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Looking over at our new friend, we asked if there was anything more that would do for her. She then told us that she was heading to the interstate and could use a ride if that wasn’t too much to ask. The interstate was 7 miles away and it was all-uphill. Abby then told her that we could give her a ride and she readily accepted. As we drove she told us about her life and the ups and downs that she had gone through, some being bad as well as some that brought her happiness. She in turn asked us about our lives and Abby innocently related about herself and her time with friends in the church. She then asked if we were Christians and Abby said that we were. Abby then volunteered by asking if we could pray for her. Our friend accepted and said with a warm expression, “Thank you!” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As we were driving along towards the interstate she had asked how far the St. Charles exit was. I responded by saying that it was about another 20 miles. She said that it was a place that would be a wonderful launching point for traffic heading west. I looked over at Abby and I could see in her eyes that she wanted to do this for our friend. Looking away from Abby to this woman who was holding a larger than life smile, I offered to take her there. She readily accepted and it was the beginning point for her many questions about our faith. Abby did most of the talking and I did the driving. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As we past the mile markers heading west, I came to realize that there was something about a child’s faith that made the conversation so innocent and wonderful. I prayed by myself as we traveled along while Abby exchanged things about her life, as well as listening to this complex lady share about her walk through life. When the time came to say goodbye, we knew that we would never meet again, at least in this lifetime. I though was strengthened by Abby’s innocent faith, and through her, God was teaching me about his ways through Abby’s actions. I also learned that day more of what our Savior meant when he said to his disciples in Matt. 18:3 “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” It was a day that I was privileged to be a part of a child’s faith in action. Jesus was teaching me about giving, unconditional acceptance, and about loving a person that wasn't dependent on appearance, but more by what was inside the heart. Jesus was teaching me about himself through my child. “If you have done this to the least of them you have done it to me.”<span style="background-color: white; color: #001320;"></span>Matt: 25:40 </span><br />
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-32829026310522796142018-12-09T20:32:00.003-06:002018-12-10T22:29:21.825-06:00The Great Egg Bake of 1967<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">My thoughts this evening are wandering back to the time of being a teenager, which come to think of it, took place many years ago. It was a very hot summer and I was struggling to find relief in the cool shade of a big elm tree in my home town of Jackson, Minnesota, but that dream of sitting the day out at Ashley Park was not to be. A friend called and asked for my help in bailing hay at his father’s farm. They were short handed and two hours later I found myself stacking hay in the direct heat of the day. My friend was driving the tractor while I was stacking the hay bales on the flatbed. I quickly found that wearing a short sleeved was a big mistake. I looked down beyond my short sleeves and I could see deep scratches forming on my arms. They not only hurt, but they itched as well. The hot sun was directly above us and I had to glare into it every time I tried to stack each new layer above my head. By the time I had reached seven rows high on the rack, I was totally exhausted and unbelievably hot. I was so looking forward to the cool ride back to the barn, and that of getting a cold drink of water from their well. Since we had a full rack of hay, I found that the only place for me to sit was at the top of the hay bales. I must say though, I was looking forward to feeling the breeze on my face as we slowly sauntered back to the barn. While enjoying the slow ride and the soft bales of hay beneath me, I glanced over my shoulder, to my left and I could see a lake nearby and my thoughts went to the pristine blue water and thought how cool it would feel on my bloodied arms. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I imagined myself running into that pristine lake all the while its water was rushing over my body. This dream was soon shattered by my friend, he must have noticed that I was eyeing the lake as he saw me drenched in sweat looking out over the horizon of the body of water before us. His voice then obliterated the calm that surrounded me as he hollered from the tractor, “I know how to cool you off!” He then put the tractor into road gear and I found myself bouncing through the pasture atop 7 layers of hay, all barely staying on the flatbed trailer. At that moment, I tried to yell with all my might for him to stop, but he would have none of it. To my horror, up ahead I could see a dried out creek bed with its depression in the ground, all fast approaching us. I knew that if the flatbed hit the creek bottom just right, I would end up being catapulted into the air along with a ton of hay following right behind me. As we hurdled toward the depression I could see my life fasting approaching its untimely end. The only thought going through my mind was, “I am only 16 years old and I want so to live a long life!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">We suddenly hit the creek bottom and instead of the wagon digging into the dry dirt, it miraculously skidded over the hard ground instead. I thought, “I am still alive!” as I checked all my body parts to see if any were missing. No sooner did that thought flash by in my mind when all of a sudden I became acutely aware that the bales of hay were separating under me. I frantically looked down and I could see 8 feet below to the flatbed’s floor. At that point in time the bales separated further and I found myself dropping helplessly to the floor, all the while the hay bales above me were crashing together as quickly as they had come apart. I then found myself shrouded in darkness. The stifling heat from bailing now seemed nothing in comparison to the confined space of the hay holding me in place. I could hardly breath as the tractor slowly came to a halt. When I thought I might indeed live, I heard my crazy friend speak, “Are you all right?” I muffled out an angry response that was full of threats that I knew I could not carry out in my present state. I then demanded that he get me out of this mess right away. Expecting an apologetic response, but all I heard was, “I’ll just wait until we get to the barn, no use tearing the bails apart and have to put them back again.” At that point my anger was beyond control, but my screams went unanswered due to the fact that all I could hear was the old John Deere slowly putting up the pasture lane to the barn a quarter mile away. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Needless to say after being unstuck from the stifling hot bales of hay, I shared my thoughts of what I knew him to be. He just looked at me and smiled and said, “I think you will live!” At that point I wasn’t responsible for my actions, I Jumped over to the nearby hay pile, spotted a clutch of very old hen eggs that had sat there in the baking sun for I don’t know how long, and I went for them. I grabbed several eggs, very gently, and began to toss them at my perplexed friend. At that point he began to realize the gravity of the situation and sprang like a wild cat behind the bales, but not before one of my rotten eggs found its mark. A short time later I found that it was not as gratifying as I had originally thought, because I then </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">realized that I had to put up with his stink for several more hours of work. My sense of smell was begging me for relief during this very difficult time. My anger was soon melting, along with my resolve for getting even. I was certain at that point that vengeance was not sweet at all, it was indeed very painful for the both of us. My struggling friend and I seemed to realize that the only way out of this conundrum was either for him to take a bath or for the both of us to dive into the lake. </span><br />
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-26052955040935047932018-12-07T09:47:00.002-06:002018-12-07T10:42:02.657-06:00Where Do We Stand With God<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;">In reading this morning the passage of Matthew Chapter 21, I saw where the Pharisees confronted Jesus by asking him by what authority did he have in knocking over the money changer’s tables in the temple. Jesus responded by asking them a question as well, “By what authority did John the Baptist do his works; were they from man or God?” The Pharisees talked between themselves and said to one another, “If we say John did his works by God’s authority, then he will ask us why we didn’t listen to him? If we say that his works were from man, then the people might stone us.” They responded to Jesus by saying that they didn’t know. Jesus in turn said that because they could not answer his question, then he would not answer theirs.
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Originally the temple was a place of worshiping God, but over time it became a building to go through the ‘motions’ of worship, and because of this, the people's hearts were not there. They had forgotten about God and his provisions of kindness. They felt that God would be happy with their actions of worship only. The thing we have to ask ourselves is this, “Are we doing the same thing? Do we worship in church by just going through the motions? Are we truly seeking after God with our whole heart, or are we giving only of our presence?”
In Jesus’ day, the Pharisees obviously thought that their place as worship leaders was more as political leaders than being examples for others to follow in leading individuals to God. And because of this, they protected their positions in the temple and sought after their own ends. Jesus was a living conviction against them, reminding them of their false ways and their distance from God. We as well, must in turn ask God for wisdom in our convictions and our place in “his” eyes. If we do not seek after God, the world will in fact seek after us with all its unholy ways. God asks us to be his ambassadors in the world, but we cannot do that if we are not seeking after him first. Just like in our own lives, the world will have its way in our church as well, if it is not putting God first. God made us as individuals to worship him and to be in fellowship with others that have the same convictions. We must now ask ourselves, “Are we being a reflection of God, or the world.” This is but one measure of our faith that will tell us of where we stand.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-9009431865666078412018-12-05T12:22:00.000-06:002018-12-06T09:53:01.800-06:00Servanthood<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I recently read an article sent to me by a relative. It was about a young high school girl applying for a job. She was apologetic about her lack of experience in getting into the many careers that are on the market today. Contrary to her belief, the respondent was very impressed by this young lady’s work experience. She came from a farm and had done everything from driving a tractor at age 12 to taking care of the animals before and after school. In short, she knew how to work and how to do it in a timely manner and that impressed the business man. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">If one were to follow successful individuals, that is, those who have successfully accomplished many things in their lives, it would be evident that hard work was the basis for their success. Nothing worth holding onto can be achieved by having things given to an individual; it is gained by plain hard work and ingenuity. In some instances, inheriting large businesses and estates are lost not only because of a lack of experience, but also because these individuals didn't have the drive to sustain the gift that was given to them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">In relating this to our walk as Christians it can be said that our salvation is an undeserved gift, and that is so true. But, what is done after that is accomplished by a balance of duty, faithfulness, and service toward God in one’s walk with him. The analogy of a docked boat in the harbor is so apt; it cannot be used for fishing if it is not out on the open water doing what it was made to do, and likewise, we must be willing and able to move when God’s spirit compels us to do what he has made us to accomplish. Two people in Israel amazed Jesus with their faith, the Centurion who asked Jesus to heal his servant, (Luke 7:1-10), and the Greek woman who asked Jesus to deliver her daughter of demons (Matt. 15:22). Neither were Jews and that made their life that much harder living in a foreign land, but they did not give up, they actively pursued their goal of seeking our Lord for his healing hands in the lives of their family members. Love propelled them forward with an earnest drive to seek God out at all costs. God does have a purpose for each of us in serving him. By taking time to pray, studying his word, and to listening to his Spirit, we can know what (His) purpose is for our lives. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-16709918887499344102018-11-29T10:41:00.001-06:002018-11-29T10:41:27.402-06:00Giving It To Him<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Paul talks about the need to discipline the mind. 2 Corinthians 10:5 tells us that we are to "demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Sometimes in our minds we try to make something that is simple, very complex. In viewing children at play, we see that they, many times break down their relationships with other children to the most basic level. “I like you!” “You hurt my feelings!” “Please come here and play with me, I want you to be my friend.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">There are no mysteries with children and so life is much simpler for them. After we grow up though, we have many more challenges that face us, and that leaves us with a lot more questions at the end of the day. Our thoughts are being bombarded with the news media, work, play time and activities throughout our waking hours. It becomes hard to be alone and to face solitude. So, how do we quiet our thoughts and take control of them each day? One might say, “I don’t have time to find my quiet place at work!” Is there a simpler way though? For myself, I might have a thought that is not right, or uplifting either about myself, or another. At this point I remember what the apostle Paul said about taking captive every thought that sets itself up against God. I then in my mind box that thought up, wrap it with a string and give it to our Savior. It then becomes his and not mine anymore. Simple, yes! Complex, no! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Jesus asks us to give him our burdens, in other words, he wants to have what troubles us. In Matthew 11:29-30 Jesus says, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and you shall find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Again, Jesus is asking us to give him what we don’t want. In Matthew 18:3 Jesus tells us that we must become as little children. “What, it can’t be that simple, can it?” Yes it is, it is that simple. If we are to have the mind of Christ, we must think and act as he would. In order to do that, Jesus wants to help us with our thoughts by taking those thoughts that are not of him away from us, that is, if we decide to give them to him. He won’t take them forcefully we must give them to him willingly. So it is that we are then becoming like little children with our Heavenly Father.</span></div>
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August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2888246380932359485.post-88404502514268189552018-11-28T08:35:00.002-06:002018-11-28T08:36:09.388-06:00How Do We Understand Love?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">How does the Bible define love? </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16</span></span></div>
August Thurmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09983236527919741537noreply@blogger.com0