Yeah I know. It's been a while. I could say I've been busy, which would be true, but we can all say that. So I'll skip the excuses and just suffice it to say I'm a lazy writer. I shouldn't be. It's not like I don't know what to write. That's the funny thing, I've got so much to say I really don't know when to stop. I've never had writer's block. Everything leaps out at me. Really!

Tonight at about 8 pm, I went for a walk. Mostly to get exercise, but it also gives me a chance to think and enjoy the outdoors, especially since I'm in an office all day. I have several routes to choose from.  All of them rather scenic and make great opportunities to think. The sun had not set yet although it was heading that direction, and the weather was about as perfect as what one could expect in August. A slight almost September coolness to the air. The sun was lighting up some perfectly beautiful clouds with shades of yellow and pale salmon set in a soft blue sky that literally glowed and makes one thankful one lives in Nebraska. It sounds like such a cliché but it is so true that the weather changes here constantly. A few days ago it was around a hundred degrees with high humidity and now the cool dry air makes you think you must have got on a plane and flew to Hawaii or something.

The twilight or 'gloaming' is my favorite time of day. Not to be overly romantic, but it seems I read somewhere that the Scots (of who I am descended) and perhaps the Irish (also descended) believed that this time of day (or is it night?) the pixies or elves or something could be seen. I don't subscribe to that but would agree that it inspires the imagination. I am more inclined to think of 'unseen angels' as in the old song 'Precious Memories'.

Precious memories, unseen angels,
Sent from somewhere to my soul.
How they linger, ever near me,
And the sacred past unfolds.

And since I have a bit of Scotland in me (love the bagpipes, but will pass on the haggis), it is also appropriate to quote a little Robert Burns concerning the 'gloaming'. This is the third stanza from the poem “I'll Meet Thee On The Lea Rig”.

The hunter lo'es the morning sun;
To rouse the mountain deer, my jo;
At noon the fisher seeks the glen
Adown the burn to steer, my jo:
Gie me the hour o' gloamin' grey,
It maks my heart sae cheery O,
To meet thee on the lea-rig,
My ain kind Dearie O.

Lincoln does a great job with it's hiking and bike trails. Family friendly, long and winding through parks and residential and business areas. I like the ones that have a 'woodsy' feel to them. Evergreens, oak, maples, and elms. Tonight the locusts were buzzing mightily with a slight blend of tree frogs. The further I walked the quieter the locusts became, giving way to the tree frogs and finally the tree frogs gave way to the 'croakers', at least that's what I call them, that is the frogs that live in the wetlands. As I type this with the windows of the house open, enjoying the fan pulling the air in I can hear the crickets now.

All of this to say, I feel very thankful to have this. I know many don't. I hope and pray that they can find some sense of God's beauty wherever they dwell. If they lack the nature that I enjoy may they find comfort in the Psalms and the Gospels. Beauty and truth and peace, all dwelling together. Soon enough winter snow and ice and wind will be here. But the Eternal Word is always the same today, tomorrow and yesterday. And there is a promise of a City that will come down out of heaven, the bride prepared for Christ. So when this summer fades, the leaves drop, and the coolness turns to chilly and then to cold; we will still have this promise that no matter what happens in this life, no matter where we go or end up, if we have Jesus as Lord; we have the promise of Eternal Life!

“But to all who believed him and accepted him, he gave the right to become children of God.”

John 1:12 NLT