Monday, April 21, 2014

the way it should be

each second,
each moment,
each instant,
is precious for something happens in that little time frame
that is beautiful.
We forget,
get busy,
or confused
and we miss this.
How can one live life without this?
Everything in this world seems to wish to take any beauty away,
yet it is there whether we see it or not.
I forget some days
and then i remember and wonder what i missed.
How to be thankful?
Remind yourself daily...
to look.

Friday, April 18, 2014

maybe a bit of how i believe, appropriate for Good Friday 2014

The start is as some one who believes Jesus as the Son of God,
but after that i am so far from sometimes even being good - i will try not to ever judge others.

I hold on to something given to me a long time ago,
maybe because i know i have a problem with pride and haughtiness.

from the haunting, grasping insecurity that causes us to run from others.

Brokenness releases us from the clutch of fear that grips us in strife and intense defensiveness.  It is God's love manifested through a human soul; its tender compassion make obsolete the cold hard assertion of person or position.

Brokenness is responding in faith when the situation clearly offers defeat;  it is overcoming the hurt and refusing the anger caused by a beloved's insensitivity.

Brokenness requires trust:  it means drawing very close to the Father, trusting that He loves you and is showering His mercy upon you.

Humility loves in the face of unlove.  it empowers us to be self-effacing; it allows us to consider others better than ourselves.

Humility stands defenseless before an accuser, neither needing nor preparing an answer.

Humility does not remonstrate or agitate; it quietly confirms that a man can die to himself.

Humility allows the response of Jesus, the Son of God.  It gives access into powerful and creative suffering

reference reading:  Zephaniah 3:11-13

The Lord Jesus was gentle and humble, despising not people, but sin.  As God's Son He and unfathomed authority and power, yet He was so meek that small children approached him eagerly and fearlessly.  Though we have been given the treasure of Christ, we are human and some of the markings of our humanity are hard-heartedness and pride.  We often esteem ourselves superior, not just to unbelievers, but also to each other.  the Lord, in His tender love, has committed Himself to making us holy, the working in our personalities and lives the godliness that we know in His Son.

okay, so you get a glimpse...
then i mix science with this and things become more unusual...

Yes, i believe in an evolutionary process, with God directing all the way, but then i get into physics...
We have classical physics, which describes what we see, experience and measure and it seems very orderly.
Then we have quantum physics, which describes thing at the sub-atomic level, what we can not see, and it breaks down into probability?
That is amazingly wonderful and tells me, 
for all those who which to put God into some box and limit who He is,
you can not limit God nor can we ever really know Him...
This gets me back to that song that i have to get on MP3 for you.
Isaiah 40:12 - Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, or with the breadth of his hand marked off the heavens? Who has held the dust of the earth in a basket, or weighed the mountains on the scales and the hills in a balance?

Monday, April 14, 2014

morning reflections

I have a favorite song that i listen to daily.
It will never be on the radio,
for it comes from a community church i was involved in many years ago.
It is based in an old testament prophet, Isaiah.
the title is "Who has measured the waters in the Hollow of His hand" by the fisherfolk.
It is a song of hope and humility
and i need a daily does of this,
for it reminds me that if   say i understand, i am being fooled.
If i say i know, i am being fooled.
If it is clear, then i am missing something.
This life is not certain,
nor is it clear
and we each try to get trough it the best that we can
and we fail regularly
and that is okay,
we just need to get up and try again.
You can listen to this CD here,
there is no "video", but rather this is from the community of celebration website.

Sunday, April 13, 2014

woke up this morning

again my heart was singing!
So many places i have been,
so many people have touched me,
my heart that is.
I lite a candle a few Sundays ago
and grief that had been held in my heart,
rose up and overwhelmed me for a moment
and then was gone.
Holding on so tightly to what was no more,
it felt so go to let it go.
So many have gone away from this life
and yet they remain in my heart.
Letting go is never easy,
but necessary.
A good day indeed
and it is warm here in the Northeast for a third day.
My memory seems to have become weird,
short term is good, maybe great,
Long term (save those few years lost after the operation) is great,
but mid-term, that seems to be developing (or maybe it always was?) holes.
Blogging is sometimes hard,
but this is not.
Yes, there are dark spots in my mind,
but i see good from all of it.
Some actions have not been the best of choices,
but the end result has been for the best.
God still lives, not matter what i think.

Did you know that this is not the complete morning thought i had,
for my heart sings it once and then goes to another tune!

Thursday, April 10, 2014


Away for  spell,
where Spring has come,
still cold
and sometimes rainy,
but Spring was definitely arrived.

The Farm
and have pictures to prove it!

My faithful helper went cleaning and weeding

more "free" range chickens
Flowering plum

Angel Garden

Barnyard flock of Guinea Hens
guess who is in charge

dinner time!

weeping cherry

flowering plum

flowering peach tree

flowering apple tree

Hughey, Louey and Daisy!

some goats

Goat in a basket

Monday, March 24, 2014

What can i say the lights shines about me now

I traveled in darkness too long,
it was cold and lonely.
It was not because of winter,
though that did not help.
It was not because of others,
though they did not help.
Not because of "loves',
nor friends,
nor family...
It was because of me.
For a time too long,
even my posts have been twinged with something dark,
self pity.
Perhaps the most evil thing i can think of,
because, it, above all others,
robs us of joy and love and hope.
It is a funny thing, those in my community have tried to speak it out,
attempted to pull me out,
but only i can make that choice,
they just let me know that it was there.
Oh so many reasons to feel that darkness,
to embrace it and call it my own.
And one good reason to leave it behind,
"Joy comes in the morning" it is written
and so it is
for i woke with a song in my heart,
thankfulness on my lips
and light shining all around.
The darkness has been broken
and the light shines again.
For this i am extreemely grateful.

You probably will not see me here for a bit,
but all is okay,
the night is done.

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

My Dad - Joseph E. Kuntz Sr

It is relatively late on Tuesday March 18th, 2014 and i am thinking of my Dad, who was born on this day in 1921.

I am thinking of his stories to me of growing up in a relatively rural area in the town of Ippling in Lorraine about 50 miles from Strasbourg, France.
He told me only a few stories before World War II came, but he told me of his family fermenting and then distilling plums and how an inspector would come with a special device to determine if it was the correct type of alcohol so it could be consumed.  He told me (and i have a pilots license, in French of course) that he learned to fly at the age of 13.
He told me that he had begun to go to a technical school for engineering and that in school he learned French, German and English and that he loved math.
He told me that when war came, he became a spy for British Intelligence and that he was captured twice, but escaped each time.
The first time the Germans wanted to make a poster child of him, because of his looks.
He told me that he would not go back to France because neighbors had "ratted" him out and therefore threatened his family.
He told me he was held prisoner once with a Russian soldier and learned Russian from that man.  His final escape was in the bed of a coal car and he just barely escapes.
The  British wanted him to go back again, but he refused because he feared for his family.  He made his way to Spain and there became disillusioned with the Catholic church because they were siding with Franco and the Nazis.  He learned Spanish and stayed for 6 months with a family in the southern part of Spain where he became close with the families daughter.
He made his way to North Africa to join with Charles DeGaul and the Free French air force.  He flew what they had, which was mostly Spads.  He spoke of a favorite dish that they ate of raw liver mixed with red wine and onions.
These were the details, but he talked little of any fighting.  I found a book about a pilot in the Free French Air Force "Wind, sea and sand" and gave it to him.  It turned out that he knew the man, but he had "disappeared" after a mission,  I have never seen the book again, anywhere, and he never spoke more of it.  I know that he came to the United States to an Air Force base in South Carolina where he was taught how to fly more modern aircraft (I have some of the pamphlets from this) and when the war ended before his training was finished, he decided to stay in the United States.
He moved to Washington DC and worked with the French consulate because he knew a number of languages and picked them up easily.
He decided to become a citizen and was sponsored by a US senator.
He had to leave the country to apply and lived in Cuba for 6 months, where his knowledge of language saved several times.  Once in a cantina, the table next to him of several men were talking how they would rob him when he left the cantina - they were unaware that he spoke Spanish and he did not let it be know until he was ready to leave.  He walked over to the table and drew his service revolver and spoke to them in fluent Spanish that if they left there table and tried to hurt him, he would kill them.
He returned to Washington DC after 6 months with no serious problems and began working in a Jewelry store.  I have some of his work still.
He married an Argentinean woman, but before a year was out, she left and went back to her country.  Shortly after that he met my mom, who was working as a nurse in Washington DC.  As she tells the story, she needed to have a watch repaired and saw him and then began going there daily.  They married and then decided to move to Houston.
My dad did not like to talk about the war much, it affected him greatly and there was not a lot of detail, but it was wonderful to hear any part of it.