Up the Sunbeam

-- Firewood that won't burn just isn't worth a diddly! The storm had been blustering all day as each of us went about our various activities--Hero Husband at work, me at my Bible study, Drummer-Boy taking college mid-terms and She-So-Sweet making 8th grade look easy. At the store on the way home, the kids and I picked up a few things we needed. "Please Mom, can we have a fire?" Hero Husband was doing a guest lecture at Drummer-Boy's college, so it would be up to me. Against my better judgment, and indulging my own love of fires in the fireplace on cool autumn evenings, I helped them get the fireplace ready. I tried all the tricks I knew for building fires correctly and effectively, but the dry-as-a-bone log WOULD. NOT. CATCH. FIRE. It would t ease us and act like it just might, and then, nope! Just smoke and half-hearted little embers only on the very surface. Smoke, smoke and more smoke, until we were choking on it, but no bright, happy flame, no war...

"Any occurrence requiring undivided attention will be accompanied by a compelling distraction." Robert Bloch Heat waves turned everything to liquid. People looked like melting wax figures, dripping and drooping in the 104° scorcher of a day. The blinding assault from the sun was rivaled only by the suffocating radiant heat rising off the pavement. This wa s the setting for the Walnut Festival that draws many tens of thousands of people every year for fun, food, carnival rides and entertainment. Yesterday, my son was part of the entertainment for a large portion of the day, playing drums for multiple bands, finishing the day with his own band's 40 minute set. When you are the mother of a drummer, you spend a lot of time transporting his drum set to and from rehearsals and perfor mances. It is a job I love and take on willingly! However, a drum set is not an easy thing to carry around, so you try to pull your car as close to the stage as possible. I got per...

"For I will pour water on the thirsty land, and streams on the dry ground;" Isaiah 44:3 (NIV)   A dry and thirsty land . . . This time of year in California, all the grasses that looked like emerald velvet in February, turn a dusty gold, toasted to a dry crisp in the relentless sun. It has its own beauty, especially when contrasted with the deep green of the majestic oaks that grace the hillsides, but it is very dry. Yesterday my family and I went for a hike (my idea) on an unfamiliar trail at the height of the afternoon sun, and I paid dearly for it. I am very sensitive to the heat, and I was unprepared for the sustained climb of this particular trail or the heat of the day and I wound up with a throbbing headache I have yet to completely shake loose. I got to thinking about how thirsty I was up there, how dry and hot and dusty I felt. My desperation for water and cool shade was so intense, I could not go further without respite from the scorching sun above. I finally ...