Juke Joint

When in the ATL airport, as I was in March, I stop by the Juke Joint to eat if at all possible.  My favorite waitress was on hand to serve me some delicious BBQ as usual.

Actually, this was one of her last days there as the restaurant was closing to move/remodel and she didn’t plan to come back afterward.  She didn’t work there much, apparently, but each of the half-dozen times I stopped over the past, she was my waitress.  She was always busy, but found a few seconds here and there to talk to me and we had some great conversations about life.  Our discussions usually got pretty deep pretty quick and on a few different visits I gave her my testimony, which changed as my life changed.  Maybe I’ll never see her again, but at least I could give her the reason for the hope that I have in Jesus.

Sadly, I can’t say that type of conversation happens very often with most people I meet.  You never know who God might bring into your path, but we’re supposed to be ready in season and out of season.  For me this time, out of season was being tired and flying back after a funeral to continue dealing with the divorce process.  By God’s grace I was somehow ready this time.  And I got to eat some delicious smoked chicken at the same time.

Omaha

After most everyone flew and drove back home, my dad and I had a little time in Omaha so we visited a nice train display on behalf of my boys.  These trains are huge, two of the biggest ever built.  I think my boys would trade most of their toys to see these trains in person.  Maybe someday I’ll take them there.

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Northwest Iowa

In early March, my family all our made our respective trips back to Iowa- home of Northwestern College, hog farms, and sadly but inevitably, the location of the funeral of the man known to me as Grandpa Peterson.  I wish I could have spent more time with him and gotten to know him better, although I think most people feel that way about their dearly departed.  I was aware of his faith and wisdom and generosity and kindness, but many stories were told that made me all the more proud of him and realize more acutely the loss of such a Christ-like example in so many people’s lives.  But I’ll see him and his wife he missed so much (my grandma) again someday in heaven.

Making the best of the family reunion, some of us took a jaunt up to Orange City for, among other things, dinner at the Pizza Ranch.  I always enjoyed the pizza, specifically the dessert pizza known as Cactus Bread.  Despite my 15+ year patronage, I learned something new on this trip about the ownership from a huge poster in the entryway.

My grandparents raised five kids on their farm and after the funeral we were invited by the new owner to come see the farmhouse and surroundings.  Every time I went back to visit, my grandpa wanted to drive by but never wanted to even turn into the driveway.  He told me he didn’t want to see the changes, he wanted to remember it the way it was before chicken coop was moved and barn torn down, etc.  So this was my chance to see a part of my childhood I didn’t remember very well.  I remembered the stove on which my brother burned his arm, and vague recollections of the kitchen from birthday parties as a wee little boy, but that was about it.  The hundreds of head of cattle were new, as was the manure spreader as far as I know.  And I saw the old green tractor that we named our little Oliver after (only chronologically was he named after it, otherwise it was a coincidence).  The cattle didn’t seem to like me, but that’s OK, they’ll still be delicious.

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Jesus heals our hearts!

And according to Gabriel, sometimes Jesus uses blue bandages arranged like train tracks.

Bonfire

It happened a few months ago, but here it is finally:

The bonfire was much bigger than this, I promise.  After it burned down, they started throwing dead leaves into the fire pit.  And while the older two boys had me distracted – making sure they didn’t fall into the fire – Oliver was eating dirt.  Excellent use of the diversion, young man.  Not bad for a one-year-old.

Click here

I got this gem the other day, buried in a legitimate email:

Riiiiiiight…. If I’m concerned about the authenticity of your message, I’m certainly not going to click on the links in your questionable message.  Good try.

Climbing Trees

Nicolae was very proud of himself for climbing the tree all by himself, in flipflops no less.  Except for the help getting up into the tree, and help getting up to each new branch.Is it just me, or is he practicing for senior pictures a wee bit early?