Faith, Folklore, and Friends

My parents took us to cemeteries regularly during my young years.  They taught us about our people and our past by reading the headstones, each one with a story. They taught us to never, never, walk on a grave, because it showed great disrespect for the bones beneath our feet.  Sometimes, in the old cemeteries, it is hard to tell exactly where the graves are, but I still try my best not to walk on one. Today marks 78 years since that morning when Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, was attacked by the Japanese. Hundreds of men died, and our country entered World War II. The ship  Arizona was among those that sank that day .  In 1962, the Arizona memorial was built directly over where the skeleton of the great ship rests on the shallow seafloor. It covers what remains of 1177 souls lost in a few minutes on that Sunday morning. When we were there in October of 2016, it was a somber place. It felt like I was walking on graves. Seventy-eight years later

The Pilgrims made seven times more graves than huts. No Americans have been more impoverished than these who, nevertheless, set aside a day of thanksgiving.  -H.U. Westermayer

It's a big, scary world out there. Twenty-four hours a day, multimedia saturates with information. Some horrible, some useless,  some just plain silly, the majority unwelcome. News of terrorism, wars,  natural disasters, impending epidemics, fuel prices, abuse, unemployment--it never ends. Christians are promised that we will never left alone or unattended. Legions of angels hover about, guiding, clearing the road ahead. Not scared of the darkness or what lies waiting, they are in complete control, obeying orders sent from the throne. Mighty warriors of God gently hold us in their hands, moving us out of harm's way. Clothed with power too wonderful for earthy eyes, they conform to recognizable images: the kind man with salt-and-pepper hair wearing a black turtleneck, the grizzled old man in a battered Ford who gets you to the airport on time, the ragged homeless  there at just the right time. We are told of accidents where trees were missed by

Last week, we were at Monticello, the home Thomas Jefferson designed and built near Charlottesville, Virginia.  No photos are allowed inside the house, sorry.  You will have to go to see it for yourselves.  The following photos are the outside of the mansion, the cemetery, and some of the gardens, my favorite part.

One of the first things you notice about Texas is the wildflowers that are everywhere; you can see them all over the country sides and even in the big cities.  In early April, bluebonnets really put on a show. The pinkish/coral flowers are Indian Paint Brush.  They are so beautiful mixed in with the bluebonnets. The wildflowers are worth the trip.  God bless Texas.