Old Stones - New Life

Stonehenge.  Visiting this place for the first time last week was incredible.  We were staying in London, so we took a train through the English countryside to a small town, then jumped a local bus to the site. Perfect.   It was surreal, because all my life I have wanted to visit this 5,000 year old site of stones - and suddenly, there it was.  This was built in the time of Noah - that's right - Noah and the Ark, 3,000 BC.  Of course they don't know exactly when Stonehenge was erected, but they know it was around that period.

This day was cold and a little wet - typical London weather in December, and perfect Stonehenge weather.  I took this picture and will probably use it for my new screen saver - who wouldn't?  So, this stone structure is really old.

  

So what's the new life part?  Compared to Stonehenge, the birth of Jesus is 'new'.  He was born 3,000 years later, after some guys stacked these 40 ton stones - and He was talked about, eluded to, back in the Old Testament at the time of Noah.  Just as these smart guys watched and tracked the stars, the sun, the moon, to build this place - Noah built an Ark over a long period of time to save his family from the flood.  Something strange was going on, all over the world, for sure.

 

I'm not trying to connect any dots, there are no dots really.   Well, maybe just a few . . . . .

  

Merry Christmas! 

     

     

 

Kahlua and Peppermints

Kahlua was born in 2001 and last week on December 5, 2013 - in usual form, he tugged and pulled us along the path, pointing us on to the final destination - Heaven.  No, it wasn't a rabbit, it wasn't a squirrel, it wasn't a bird - although either of those would have been close, very close, to heaven.  Kahlua was pushing 13 years old (91 in dog years).  Known to me as 'boogger' - he was the finest friend you would ever want or need.  Too often, I took him for granted.  Why?  He was always there, just waiting.  Just waiting for me.  It didn't matter if I was gone for 30 minutes or 5 days - he greeted me with the same excitement and joy with the wagging of the tail and the whimper of happiness and nibble on my hand that said - "I'm so glad to see you!  I missed you!  Welcome back!  Can we play now dad?"
 
I wasn't worthy of his presence.  He was a king among kings. A servant, and king. 
  
On that Thursday afternoon, I cleaned the house a bit - packed up his bedding, his bowls, his left over food and vitamins, his blankets and toys still laying around the house.  I moved from room to room and removed all remembrances of my best buddy.  On my sink were dozens of peppermints, the peppermints I would collect at various restaurants around town - eating out all those evenings and coming home with a pocket full of peppermints that I grabbed on the way out the door - eating a couple and saving a few for my best friend waiting for me at home.  I'd give him one or two, then toss the rest on the counter, to save them for a rainy day.  He knew they were there.  He knew they were there and every now and then as I got ready to go each day he would sit and stair at me and when I glanced his way, he would shoot his eyes to the sink top where the peppermints were.  'Hey, come on, just one?! I'll be good - I'll be good, I promise - just one?!"
   
I was saving them for a rainy day.