We brought my hunting tent and borrowed my parents’ pop-up trailer. It’s nice to spend a whole week where we don’t feel rushed or pressured to do a bunch of stuff. We mostly relax and explore. It’s interesting how quickly we seem to adapt to the primitive way of living. Personally, I feel like this is normal and have to some adapting once we get back to town. I also really appreciate the reduction of stuff that seems to distract me from my relationship with Steph and the boys.

The first few nights we had rain, hail and snow. We had to hang out in the outfitter tent and play games. We all loved it. We made pies in the wood-burning stove and popped some popcorn. After the rough weather, things cleared up and allowed us to have a fire in the fire pit.

I think it’s important to get kids out and away from the press of technology. They may whine a little at first, especially older kids who are really into their peers. However, the smiles will crack soon enough. We make a lot of good memories out here.

I’m taking some online classes this summer as I normally do. Last year I brought my laptop and did some of the work out on the rocks (see last year’s write-up in the archives.) This year I worked ahead and managed to have a week where I had nothing due.

I love a nice soft bed and watching football on my big TV, but I’m especially designed for this outdoor life. I don’t know if it’s just my personality or something God put into all of us, but there’s a real sense of connection a design when I’m out here. What a huge blessing to enjoy this place with God and my family.

Another big answer to prayer is the official approval of the Denver Seminary Outdoor Leadership concentration. For those interested in applying Biblical Leadership in outdoor ministry settings, this could be a path worth examining. Even if you’re not going to make outdoor ministry a primary area of pursuit, you may want to check out some of the courses to augment your skill. Using outdoor, experiential settings is an option regardless of where you might be.

Look for details coming soon to the Denver Seminary Web site. In the meantime, check out an example of what you can expect by viewing the Outdoor Leadership courses offered this summer. You can view them at:

OL500 - Intro to Outdoor Ministry: http://www.denverseminary.edu/current-students/special-courses/outdoor-leadership-focus/introduction-to-wilderness-ministry/

OL650 – Outdoor Leadership Practicum: http://www.denverseminary.edu/current-students/special-courses/outdoor-leadership-focus/outdoor-leadership-practicum/

After the devastating earthquake in Haiti, I got a late night call from the Air Force Reserve asking me to go help. I left the next morning to try and do what I could. My job was to help with transferring refugees to Florida on military cargo aircraft. I spent several days in Haiti and then ended up in the Miami area where we unloaded one planeload after another of people displaced and injured. After the transfer was complete, we would load the planes with relief supplies for the return trip.

My heart was broken for the kids who would come off their first airplane ride, see nothing but unfamiliar faces, and hear from people who did not speak their language or even look like them. I cannot imagine the pain of losing parents, friends, family, home and country. At times, I wanted to just run off and hide like a child who could duck under the bedcovers to make the boogey man disappear. I managed to stay and was surprised by a family who came off one of the flights in the late afternoon.

A Haitian family had arrived among many others, and I was helping them get to a bus that would take them to a temporary shelter and processing center. I must have looked stricken by the situation because the mother took hold of my arm and asked me if I was okay. Was I okay? This woman had just lost her house, her husband and her mother. She had three children, no money, and everything she owned fit into one suitcase. I couldn’t even answer. She looked me right in the eyes with a warm smile and asked again in her heavy Creole accent, “Are you okay honey?”  Stunned by the role reversal, I just nodded.

I followed her onto the bus and rode to the gymnasium where she would meet with the Red Cross representatives, medical personnel and US Customs. She never stopped talking to her kids about how fortunate they were. “The bus has air conditioning and such comfortable seats.” “The grass here is nicely cut.” “The streets are so clean.” “There are cots for everyone in the gym.” “The people are friendly.” “God is so good.”

I stayed with her kids while she went through the normal process. The kids didn’t speak much English, but playing is universal. Once she was done, I said goodbye to the woman and that I would pray God would bring comfort. Her response was, “Oh honey, that’s what He’s doing right now.” I kept thinking of the exchange that night. I could not help but feel a little that her words were meant for me and my comfort. How amazing that a woman in that situation would care for me!

Her eyes, smile and voice reflected love of Christ. Here was a woman who had lost so much. I had lost nothing but was moping around like God didn’t even exist. She seemed to trust completely that God was in total control of her destiny regardless of the road traveled. I went back to the gym the next morning, but she and her kids were gone. There were another 250 new people who had arrived during the night.

This woman’s attitude echoes God’s spirit and word. I have a hard time looking at the situation in Haiti and understanding where God is in all this. I also feel selfish and out of touch when I see someone like this woman who can walk through her situation with an eternal perspective. Her faith was on her face as she reflected God’s image. The Scriptures tell us that we are made in God’s image; “…in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them” (Gen 1:27b, NAU). Sometimes I forget about this, but a woman from Haiti reminded me. While I’m not one to gravitate toward supernatural experiences, I’m pretty sure I met Jesus at an airfield near Miami.

I’m back in Colorado now. I missed the first week of classes for the semester, but the school and professors were very gracious. I was a very small piece of a very big effort. So many people are working to help, but the need goes well beyond what is even possible right now. Keep praying and giving because the situation is still very desperate. However, also know that God is present and active and caring directly for his children even as the world wonders where He is.

I had a brief hunting trip planned and was debating whether or not to go. On the “no go” side was the idea that I could slip or fall or hurt myself somehow in my reduced capacity. On the “go” side was pretty much everything else--so I went. This was the first of two hunting excursions. Each year I usually do one weekend elk hunt with a couple friends and a longer hunt with my dad and a group of guys.

I had low expectations for my weekend trip and was still hobbling on a cane. I figured I’d just gaze at the views of the Gore Range, do a little studying and marvel at God’s work.

As the primary support member, I dropped off the other guys and then drove down a 4wd road where I would pick them up later in the day. Just in case a big fat elk came wandering by, I decided to take my rifle and peek into the woods. After just a short hobble, I heard some noise, followed it and found some elk. I took one and called my friends on the radio for assistance.

After shooting an elk, my first action is always to pray a prayer of thanksgiving. I place my hand on the animal and thank God for His creation and provision. These animals are big and can feed a family for months. While the hunt holds excitement, I know that everything out here belongs to God. I’m not going to make some corny statement about how this elk is actually manna or something, but it is pretty cool that this creation can provide for a family of four for many months.

My second trip, although longer, yielded no meat. This trip included setting up a camp and spending eight nights sleeping rough. The snow rolled in and covered the area.

The temps dropped to near record lows, our water froze, and we shivered each night in restless sleep.

Throughout the week, I still felt blessed. The setting was amazing. I marveled at the patterns in the frost, the clouds, trees and vistas.

Most of all, I thanked God that I could share this time with my 70-year-old-father.

What a place and what an experience…I am truly blessed.

Steph and I usually head to the mountains for our anniversary. This year is 19 years of marriage, and we thought maybe a few nights in Salida with a couple days riding our motorcycles would be fun. We dropped the kids off with my parents, loaded up the dirt bikes and headed to a small house we rented. The location was perfect, and the weather couldn’t be better. It had snowed a few days prior, but the forecast was for low 70’s with no clouds…a perfect Colorado fall weekend.

The aspen leaves were turning, and this was the height of the fall colors. People come from all over to see the views, and we felt blessed to have such access to this amazing place. As we headed to the trailhead on our first morning we were all smiles.

We had never been on this trail before, and the start promised some tough riding ahead. This was a remote single rack motorcycle trail that would take us through varied alpine terrain. After some initial switchbacks, we crested a hill and then followed a stream. The trail was rugged but fun and passable. We stopped several times to look at vistas, beaver dams and waterfalls.

After about an hour of riding, we came to a small stream crossing. These were common, and I did not anticipate any difficulty. However, as soon as I entered the water there was trouble. My front tire struck a submerged log, and I was thrown from my bike. I fell awkwardly onto my left leg and felt a snap. Having suffered a traumatic and severe tear to my hamstrings in the past, I knew it was trouble. As soon as Steph came up to me I told her the prognosis—I had snapped my hamstrings.

The pain was pretty severe, we were alone in the back country, and we were an hour ride to the trail head over rough terrain. Steph dragged me out of the creek, picked up my bike (also in the creek), moved the bikes to the other side of the water (she crossed the creek with each bike with no problems…kind of humbling.) Although we had a cell phone, there was no coverage. We would have to get out of this ourselves. We carry an emergency kit and got it out. From the kit I took some pain medication that we carry just in case, and I took some. Steph also found that if she wrapped my leg tightly with one of our spare shirts the pain would subside a little. After a few minutes, we heard some bikes coming up behind us.

Steph flagged down the riders who happened to be another couple out riding for their anniversary. They pointed out that just another mile up the trail was an escape route via a 4wd road. We decided the only way out was for me to try to ride out. The other couple would follow us to make sure we made it. Steph assisted me onto my bike where we found that I could manage to ride if I stood up on my right peg. So, after a quick trial we started out.

The mile long ride felt like it lasted forever. The pain was so bad I thought I may not be able to stay conscious. The trail difficulty did not relent, but we finally made it to the road. Once on the road, we were able to find our way via forest roads back to our truck.

After some medical attention over the next few days to include an MRI, the doc told us that I had torn two of my hamstring tendons. The appearance of massive bruising revealed an additional torn muscle. There’s no surgery scheduled at this time, but the recovery will be months…months of sitting around…months of no climbing, hiking, hunting, snowboarding…you get the idea. This is tough for me.

Although I’m not going to go so far as to say God is trying to slow me down by hurting me, there may be some truth to my wife’s thought. I certainly tend to run at a quick pace. Perhaps it’s time I eased up for a while to see how the world looks at a slower speed. I spent the last week at home, missing school and work, and hanging out with my wife and kids. Although physically painful, it was an emotionally relaxing week. I tend to focus on how God can use my strengths, but sometimes I think He can even use my weakness.

There are tens of thousands of miles of trails in Colorado. A few of these are specifically designated for motorcycles. One of my favorite trails is the Rainbow Trail in the Sangre de Cristo mountain range. It’s about 90 miles long and follows the entire range just inside the National Forest. This was my second time riding it having done it once before with my wife. She also has a dirt bike and loves to ride (what an awesome wife!) In fact, she and I are heading into the mountains in a couple weeks to do some riding for our 19th wedding anniversary.

My friend and I chose to ride at a pretty fast pace. The experience was a lot of fun, and it highlighted something for me; if you don’t slow down you can miss out. My friend and I did in one day what my wife and I did in two days. The difference was that this time I rode really fast and didn’t stop very often. When I rode with my wife, we spent a lot of time stopping to look at things. We stopped at every river crossing to take pictures and look for fish, we gazed for extended periods at the amazing views, we paused on every ridge top, we took off our boots and relaxed by clear streams. Steph and I took over 200 photos on our ride. This past weekend I took three photos.

My natural leaning is to want to look forward to the next event or phase of life. I sometimes forget that I may be doing now what God intends. It’s not all about moving on to the next thing. Seminary is a good example. I tend to think of seminary as something I need to get through to move onto what God has in store. That’s the wrong attitude. This is where God has me right now. This is not a hurdle on the race to do God’s work. If I’m not careful, I may miss something in the present that God wants to do in me or through me.

If you’re in seminary or thinking about starting, I encourage you to take a moment to consider this. Take a break and get the camera out. This is part of your life too. You, and your spouse/kids if you have a family, will live this too. Is this going to be a sprint past something amazing or are you going to take the time to savor the experience and let God move in you?

We found a great camp site. In the National Forest of Colorado, you don’t have to camp in camp grounds. There are many hidden spots where one can set up a great camp. We chose a well-established site to minimize impact on the surroundings. After a few hours of set-up, we settled in for a long stay.

The kids immediately found rock “castles” and “forts” to defend from imaginary attackers. Steph and I relaxed and enjoyed the surroundings. We brought plenty to do and had some fun activities each day. These included things like fly fishing, tubing on the river, rock climbing, motorcycle riding, and lots of family games/story-telling.

Because I’m taking some online classes this summer, I did have to take some occasional time off to do some school work.

We provided our camp location to friends and family and hosted several visitors while we were there. My Air Force flying squadron even managed to do a fly-by of the camp which happened to rest along one of our low-level routes (I had actually found the camp site while flying a few weeks earlier.) One set of visitors included my parents and their two house guests. The guests were 19-year-old guys from Holland who were visiting the U.S. for the first time. We taught them to rock climb and let them shoot a gun (illegal in Holland.) After several hours of activity, one of them asked if I would let him drive my Jeep around a little. That was fine with me, so off we went through the back roads. He was all smiles and said it was the best day of his life. His favorite thing was the Jeep. He kept comparing it to a safari. To me, it was just another bumpy ride along a familiar dirt road in a familiar car.

The next day, a group of kids from Texas showed up and camped a little ways from us. They had traveled all the way to Colorado to experience the mountains. They were very pleasant and made good neighbors in the woods. Like the 19-year-old from Holland, they were exciting and amazed by the surroundings.

After watching the excitement of my kids, our visitors and the group from Texas, I realized that perhaps I had lost some of my excitement about the amazing surroundings and activities. I loved the time and place, but my amazement was a little subdued. I took some time to stop and really think about what I had, and the amazement came back.

As a Christian in seminary, I think I tend to become accustomed to God. My amazement seems a little subdued sometimes. God created all that we see in these mountains. Christ suffered and died for me. God has created an eternal place for us. Amazing! I pray I would not become accustomed to God and forget how amazing He is.

We were nervous about it, but eventually settled down to the idea that it was all pretty safe. The tour company specialized in trips for grand parents and grand children. There would be a group of 20 on this one. There were all kinds activities like learning about local culture, rafting, jungle hikes and snorkeling.

Not wanting to miss out on fun of our own, we decided to take our younger son (7 years old) and go back-packing with another family. We chose a location that had little elevation gain/loss to make it easier on the young ones (our son plus a 7 and 11 year old girls.) We hiked in about three miles and set up camp.

Although the weather called for some thunderstorms, it never panned out. The sun was out the whole time.

In planning the event, the rest of the party relied on me. They were all novices at backpacking, so I was the designated leader. I picked the spot, recommended the supplies, and led the trip as guide. There was some initial concern that perhaps the spot I had chosen would not provide the full alpine experience, but I had been there before and knew it would work out.

The area is one of my favorite spot in Colorado. I’ve fished there since I was in high school.

The camp sites are nice, there are few other people, and the setting is beautiful.

We caught lots of fish, snakes and had some great fellowship.

After two nights, we packed up and headed out.

Once we were in cell phone range, we checked our messages. We were alarmed to get a message from my mother saying that they were ok and that the coup did not seem to be causing them any immediate danger. They were in Honduras for their trip. Honduras has been stable for decades. There hadn’t been any turmoil in Central America for almost 20 years. Suddenly, there was trouble, and our son was there in the middle.

We spent the next three days trying to reach them without success. We were scared and frustrated. I found myself questioning God. You see, we had prayed that the trip would go smooth and that all would remain well while they were abroad. It seems that our prayers we not answered. My initial reaction was to stop praying (it didn’t seem to work the first time) and start scurrying around on my own. I tried a couple things and then stopped.

Steph and I prayed some more. We realized that the situation was out of our control. We also realized that God probably had more answers than we could muster. As you might imagine, things turned out o.k. They managed to avoid the road blocks, continue to have some adventures and eventually found their way out of the country safely.

Looking back, I realized I was questioning God’s plan. It is fine to work to help the situation, but dropping God to do my own thing could only lead to trouble. Just because God doesn’t meet our narrow expectations does not mean He is not in control or concerned for us. He’s the expert. He’s the guide.

As I was flying out, we flew over the Denver area. We slowly climbed up to an altitude where we could clear the mountains and then headed west. I watched as the terrain and details grew smaller and blended together. At fist, I could see individual items on the ground such as cars, people and trees. After a short time, I could only see trends such as roads, water and big green things (yards and fields.) At the same time, the clouds became more distinct.

I flew over Denver Seminary and saw the whole campus. I already knew that the campus has some interesting designs such as the image of a Christian fish (ichthus) and a large red cross laid out in the courtyard. You can see the curved sidewalks and colored concrete in the courtyard, but you might not recognize that it forms designs and a cross. There are photos on the seminary web site that show the view from the air. This was the first time I had seen it for myself.

As I flew higher, I was struck by how my understanding of the view changed. From low altitude I recognized that it was a busy work day with lots of people scurrying around. What I saw from altitude was that it has been a rainy spring, and everything was green. I can see one perspective or the other based on where I am at the moment. God is not like us in that sense. He can see both views at the same time.

In Isaiah 55, we are reminded that God sometimes sees the view and perspective that we may miss. Particularly, verse 55:9 reminds us “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” (NIV) It’s easy to understand the change in perspective when we look out an airplane window or see the image of the cross in the sidewalks of Denver seminary. What is more difficult to see is that God may see what we don’t in other aspects of our lives.

I tend to get impatient with God and wonder why things are going as they are. I need to remember that I may not be able to see what God can see. He can see what I can’t, and I need to rely on Him.

This course is now offered as an option through cooperation between Denver Seminary and the Rural Home Ministry Association. There were students in the class from two other seminaries which was a nice chance to meet other students. I stayed in a host home and experienced incredible small town hospitality. As part of the experience we visited a few local towns, met farmers, ranchers and business people and learned about the ministry needs of a small town. We visited a small town church and ate a few meals in small town diners.

I was struck by how the farmers and ranchers depend on God in a very real way. One farm family who hosted us for dinner (oops…I mean supper) explained their corn operation. They wait for a weather window and then put their family fortune into the ground. Once the seeds take, they wait. They depend entirely on God. Sometimes He provides abundance, and sometimes he just provides what is sufficient to move on to the next year with the bare minimum to feed the family and perhaps pay the bills. Either way they say they are blessed.

I found that their culture is not like mine. I don’t think I have the faith to wait and trust God like they do. I tend to scurry around and make my own back-up plans. I would probably have been one of the Israelites who gathered the Manna just in case God didn’t provide the next day. I think I have something spiritual to learn from a corn farmer. Even in ministry, I should plant my seeds and wait on the Lord. He is faithful and will meet my needs.

My wife, two boys and I held our own church service at the summit of Eagle Rock. This is a pinnacle of rock that sticks up in an open plain nestled between two mountain ranges. The climb is not too hard, and the view is amazing. The boys complained at the start but beat the adults to the summit with giant smiles of triumph. The view from the top was amazing.

My 11-year-old led the “church” service. We’re not some super pious family with little preacher kids. We’re just a regular foursome. My kids complain and whine just like everyone else’s. However, my son had memorized some Bible verses from previous schooling and volunteered to start us out. We didn’t talk about creation or anything outdoorsy. We talked about how to take responsibility for our own actions and thoughts. It was a good little service with all four of us involved in the discussion.

There was a small summit register at the top of the peak. For those of you unfamiliar with climbing mountains, a register is a container with paper where those who reach the summit write their name, date and a brief message. It is usually just a can or jar with some notebook paper. I opened the old mayonnaise jar and pulled out the scraps of paper. I started reading the little messages. I noticed a trend right away. Almost all the messages mentioned God and how the view confirmed their faith. As I looked at the notes, I wondered about those who just put a name and date.

While many of the climbers had mentioned God, some obviously did not, and it seemed reasonable that they may not have possessed a faith in God at the time of their summit experience. What struck we was the combined testimony they received from God and those who had written about Him. Imagine seeing that view and reading those words. How could one help but re-examine faith? I think Eagle Rock is an evangelist.

Although we had had great weather for several of our previous adventures, this time things did not look so good. A spring storm was brewing. Having made many trips in the wilderness in all conditions, I came prepared for the worse. I carried the necessary gear to keep me alive if we were to get snowed in for days. I was excited for the challenge.

We met at a Christian camp about 45 minutes from school. I was the last to arrive due to some work requirements, and the class was gathered in a cabin. As soon as I walked in, several students informed me that our trip was cancelled. Some showed disappointment while others were clearly relieved. To be completely honest, I fell far to the side of feeling like we would be missing a great chance to get out there and cover some distance.

After some discussion, we came up with an alternate plan. Many of the students still wanted to get the experience of loading up for a trip and striking off into the woods. The Christian camp owns quite a bit of land, so we decided to distribute food, load our packs and start hiking. To mitigate the risk of a potentially bad storm, our intended destination was about 100 yards behind the cabin. We would hike around the property for a few hours to end up within shouting distance of cabin. Once done hiking, we would set up camp.

I'm not sure my internal attitude matched my external smile as we started on our hike. I had pretty low expectations as we left the cabin. Interestingly, I soon forgot about what I was missing. I talked and joked and hiked along in the company of some Godly friends and soon forgot about the destination. We shared stories and stopped for photos. I learned some things about my classmates and shared some new things with them. We arrived at a suitable camp site after a while and set up. We shared a meal and talked for hours. We slept on the ground and woke up early to share more conversation. After a while, I remembered that we hadn't really gone anywhere. I realized that maybe it was the process and experience and not so much the distance and destination that mattered.

I really struggle with this concept in ministry. I keep wanting to make my ministry about how far I travel and the spectacular destination. I think God cares more about how I walk than how far I go. I took my final semester of Greek this spring and was assigned James 4:13-17 as my verses to study. I studied them a lot. I wrote a 60 page paper on those five verses. I took my final exam today, and it all seems like a blur. However, there is one thing that I think I see more clearly. James 4:15 says, "Instead, you ought to say, 'If it is the Lord's will, we will live and do this or that.'" The "this or that" really stands out to me as intentionally vague. The process and experience along the way seems pretty important. When I stop trying to get somewhere for God, He seems to get to me. It matters as much (if not more) how I travel than where I go for God.

We tend to live our lives as if the snow will never melt, and the flowers will never bloom. Our present situation consumes us to the point that we can't remember that the snow is temporary and covers things that really are there. The world is really not white. It's just temporarily covered. Our lives are not defined by the snow that presently rests on us. There is a promise of blooming flowers.

On the road to Emmaus, two of Jesus followers were covered with snow. Their promised savior was crucified and buried. The world was white. They were so focused on the snow that they did not even recognize the promise when it emerged. Christ met them, but they saw only snow. It took a lot of melting before they remembered that that snow only hides things, and their redeemer lives.

We all experience snow storms. The world turns white, and everything disappears. The tough thing to remember is that the snow melts and the flowers bloom. God has made the promise. We need to remember.

This past weekend, the class went up into the Colorado mountains to rappel and rock climb. We spent time discussing leadership techniques, risk management, Christian application, and rappelling/rock climbing. As has been our blessing throughout the semester, we had perfect weather with calm winds, full sun, and warm temperatures. The setting was amazing with a remote and private cliff with views of wilderness and white-capped mountains.

Having already had much experience with both of the day's key activities, I was focusing more on the potential future application in ministry than on the actual experience. I helped carry some gear around and offered encouragement to those who were learning some of the techniques as they experienced the events for the first time. When my turn came, another student was already starting the rappel next to me. He was a little nervous about the experience, so I decided to rappel next to him.

I don't think this was his first time on a rappel, but he was still having some qualms about backing over the edge. The height was significant. The equipment was beyond safe, but that does not mean it's not intimidating to walk backwards over a cliff. I offered some encouragement about the strength of the equipment and its ability to support way more than a simple person. His response to me made me stop and think.

He explained that he was well aware of the technology and strength of the rope, of the quality of the safety equipment and the redundancy of the structure. He knew the rope would hold him and he wouldn't fall. He knew I was right beside him and would stay there for the duration. He knew he would eventually reach the bottom safely. However, none of that made stepping over the edge any easier.

I think sometimes we experience that same situation as we move through our lives and ministries. We have faith. We know God is with us. We know God gives us the strength we need. We know we are ultimately going to end up in the safe arms of our creator. However, that still doesn't make stepping over the edge easy. It doesn't mean we don't have enough faith. Just like my classmate fully understood the rope would hold, we can still experience fear with a full knowledge of God.

My classmate eventually took the necessary steps and made it safely through the experience. The key was not to avoid all fear but to keep going despite the fear. As we face fear and uncertainty in life and ministry, we can do the same. The fear is natural. We just need to keep moving and working. It may never feel comfortable in making those committing moves, but we'll succeed and reach the end as promised.

I've spent many hours cruising over the world; I've seen some amazing things. I've flown over green valleys, harsh deserts, and towering granite. I've watched herds of antelope sprint across plains and ducked beneath soaring eagles as they coasted on warm winds. I've zigged and zagged through imaginary mazes formed by billowing clouds. I had my heart nearly stop as I watched the sun set over an endless ocean.

Accumulating all these images, I realized something about what I was seeing. I could not help but see God out the window. God created all we see, and He is clearly seen. "For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse." (Rom 1:20, NAU).  The reason I like looking out the window is because I like to see God.

We are surrounded by God's creation and yet we so rarely think of the connection to the creator. I've never felt any desire to worship creation, but I just can't help being drawn to it. I love to fly and climb and hike and hunt and explore. As I grow and learn, I want to continue to find ways to integrate what God has made with what God will do with me. When I eventually finish at Denver Seminary, I plan to use a little more wisdom and prayer to choose my path. I don't know where it will lead, but I know for sure my ministry will have a window.

Take a look out the window. You may not see a stunning sunset from where you sit. You may only see a leafless tree, some dormant grass or a pale sky, but look closer. Look at the details and imagine what it took to create the image you see. You'll see God. It all points to Him.