Truth and Grace Above All Else

The sickness When I was younger my parents would often tell me and my brother that we needed to go outside when it was summer time and enjoy the weather instead of playing video games all day. Most often times when me and my brother would go outside, we would pick up the sandy dirt clumps that often could be found in farmers fields that lay fallow and would act like they were grenades. We would lay on the ground in a grassy field and toss them over our heads into the dry field. Just like the guys in the movies did when they were in a bunker fighting off an enemy. The obvious sound effects associated with war movies were obligatory to tossing one of these dirt ball grenades. Some times if we got really bored with that we would start throwing them at each other to see who could take the most dirt grenades to the shirt or pants without mom noticing where we had been.  When winter time came around the same sort of scene unfolded, only this time, we had forts of snow and an almost

What is that ahead? I live in a small town which contains a gas station, a Co-Op, a Post office, a golf course and two bars. Needless to say, there is not much to do there. This forces me to trek across the county line to a larger city that I have grown very fond of in the past eighteen years. It has coffee shops, restaurants, entertainment, my home church and many other things that make it a place I enjoy spending my time. This town is located about twenty minutes from my house and I feel like could have worn a path into the highway between my home and there by now if they did not repave the road.  Most often times I space out during the seemingly mandatory drive to and from my home. I might listen to music or enjoy the silence, but for the most part nothing exciting happens going to and fro. Sometimes when I am driving home in the dark I hope to see a massive meteorite plummet to the earth right in front of me just to I can say I was there to witness it, but sadly that has nev

Inside or out? When I was younger I used to have friends that lived in my small farm town in rural Indiana. My town was one of those that no one outside of a forty-five mile radius even knew about. So, needless to say, it was and is to this day very small. Being a small farming community, almost everyone knew each other and everyone's kids would go to the local playground and mess around on the rickety, rusty and ramshackle playground equipment. If someone brought a basketball that was a huge plus! Then you could actually use the basketball court with grass growing through the cracks of the cement. Be careful though, there was no padding on the pole that held the hoop with no net in place.  Every once in awhile you and your friends would end up at this conspicuous place we called a playground. You would get to sit on the picnic tables under the pavilion and talk for hours about baseball and bottle rockets. Typically the only thing that drove us out of this watering hole was