Light Journey

By | Running Life's Race With A Limp | No Comments

A Christmas Tale that might have been  Balthazar rolled to his side. Though he had slept, he was long from home and, thus, not well rested. Besides, slumber is meant for night time. His eyes opened to barely a sliver and held there. Pulling in a slow breath he noticed – even with his sliver of vision – the light…

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Gravity

By | Running Life's Race With A Limp | No Comments

Tears pooled in my fifteen-year-old eyes. A paper with rhythmic ink lines lay open on the principal’s desk between us. He was an imposing man, Mr. S. And his bearing when wielding a paddle (concealed I knew somewhere in this room) provoked dread. Still, my tears rose from a sting greater than the forthcoming whoosh of the principal’s paddle. My…

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Attentive

By | Running Life's Race With A Limp | 2 Comments

It wasn’t Bill’s fault. They decided and that was that. They deprived him any say – no decision-making leverage – no voicing an opinion. Not that it would have mattered. They were the farmers. Bill was the horse. To him it probably seemed unfair. Bill didn’t sign up to entertain adolescent boys, have their spurs gouge his ribs at will,…

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Thanksgiving remembered

By | Running Life's Race With A Limp | 61 Comments

“Thanksgiving? Tomorrow?” Taken off guard I blurted out my discovery. The exclamation caught my wife’s attention. Really? Are you sure? Ann and I had arrived in East Africa in May. Six weeks later we welcomed our first child, Julie. This was the land we would call home. We were to help train leaders in a growing Kenyan church. I ventured…

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Angel Walk

By | Running Life's Race With A Limp | No Comments

I walked my youngest daughter down the aisle last Saturday. Her waiting groom beamed, taking in her beautiful smile. I looked to her eyes again. Gorgeous. Memories stirred, some from distant places. . . Branch out, guys. She can’t be far. . . but Heathrow’s a big place! The airport lies 23 kilometers west of London.  Heathrow buzzes each day…

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Revived

By | Running Life's Race With A Limp | No Comments

He’s a Norwegian man’s man. In his eighties now, Merland’s handshake transmits power – and tenderness, a rare combination.  Minnesotans boast, with good cause, their ten thousand lakes. Many choose fishing over the comfort of a fireplace from a hard week’s work.  For others, it’s simply that. A happy way to rest. Wintertime fishing demands stamina common to a working…

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Trigger Treat

By | Running Life's Race With A Limp | 3 Comments

Halloween is at our doorstep. My wife and I don’t always join the culture in supplying dentists greater job security. This was one of the times, however, when a bowl of goodies lay inside our front door. For a reason neither of us recall Ann was away and the candy-dispensing role rested with me. An irregular parade of costumed munchkins…

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Eyes

By | Running Life's Race With A Limp | 5 Comments

The term reasonable and prudent measured Montana’s legal highway speed for years.  Absent a daytime speed limit, drivers simply focused on the road ahead. Rather than radar-fitted patrol cars – or their own speedometers. Some motorists argue that Big Sky highways were safer in those earlier times – when reasonable and prudent described people themselves – not just speed laws….

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Big Sky

By | Running Life's Race With A Limp | 49 Comments

At sixty miles per hour, cold pummeled my face. The mountain air continued its assault as Cody, Wyoming receded back of me to the south. I had left before Seven a.m.  My destination this Labor Day Sunday was Billings, Montana. To lessen my discomfort I dialed the throttle back a notch with my right hand. I was shivering. This was…

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