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This photo was taken by our daughter, Sarah Timmons, or my wife, depending on who you ask. We were in Rehoboth Beach, DE on Easter Sunday, 2011.


Several years ago, on the way home from a family vacation, I picked up a notebook and quickly recorded an incident that had occurred involving our son. Eventually, I used that story to illustrate something about my spiritual walk as a believer in Christ. Thus began a deliberate attempt to document the significance of everyday events. Almost any ordinary circumstance in daily life can become fodder for another story. This, almost by definition, lends itself to a blog.

Of course, many of the entries here are just ordinary diary style stuff... the stuff of ordinary blogs. Good grief, I don't want to be ordinary.


Wednesday, December 23, 2020

For Unto Us a Child is Born


It’s easy for the meaning of Christmas to get lost.  The search for its “true meaning” is discussed annually. Linus explains it to Charlie Brown.  The Grinch is taught by the Who.  This year, without consciously looking, without asking, I was reminded of what we are celebrating.

I was recently involved in a situation where, in a matter of 15 seconds, my mood went from calm to as worked up as I’ve been in a long time.  It happened so fast, and it was so intense, I was dumbfounded.  When it passed, my thought was “What in the world was THAT?!”

I’ve been around long enough to know that the best thing I could do was to remedy the situation the best I could, and move on, which I did.  After that, I was left with the question “How could that have happened?  I thought I was better than that”. 

Then, BAM, as clear as day, along came the answer.  Apparently, I needed a refresher course of who I am.  I may pride myself in my attempts to be even tempered.  I may think that I have the ability to think clearly and reason things out, calmly, but the incident made it obvious to me that deep down, I’m basically capable of who knows what.

Which brings me to the reminder I was given about the meaning of Christmas.  The Gospel of Luke states the thing we are celebrating in very simple terms  - For today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.  I don’t want to get all theological here, but I was reminded of the simple idea that I need a savior.  I need Someone to save me from my fallen nature.

As much as I would not want to relive those moments of weakness I experienced, I am extremely grateful for the reminder that I am a person in need, and that need can be met by no one other than God Himself… a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.

Merry Christmas everyone!  

 

Sunday, November 1, 2020

Timmons Hollow



Towards the end of the evening, someone asked me where we got the idea to build "Timmons Hollow."  I answered honestly – “I’m not sure where the idea came from”.  The project had grown rapidly, but in steps, and its origin is not clear in my memory. It probably started with thinking about the typical big Halloween haunted trails.

I do recall having a vague idea in mind, and about that time, a neighbor lady came by with a gang of about 8 kids.  They were passing out flyers indicating they would be by to Trick-or-Treat, and if we wanted to participate, we should leave our light on.  At that moment, I knew we would turn that vague idea into a reality.

We tossed around a few thoughts.  The location was easy – we had worked on a path in our back yard for Sarah’s wedding – we could use part of that.  The path went by a section of fence that could be used as a backdrop.  Someone suggested we may be able to use our manger as something to set up and walk by.  (When the appropriateness of  doing that came up, Elias coined the expression “We celebrate Jesus in the front yard, and Halloween in the back”).  The manger morphed into the entrance to a “mine”.  The mine was elongated with some left over 2x4s I had from a job I was working on.  We covered the “mine shaft” with landscaping fabric left over from Katherine’s wedding.  Sarah and Tina painted the inside.  That’s where we started.

Every path needs lights, so we found string lights to mark it out.  Everything at night looks better with black lights and things that illuminate under that light, so we got spiders and spider webs, paint, and some handheld black lights to make everything pop.  We had trouble finding the right lights on short notice, put out a request on Facebook, and two friends supplied exactly what we needed.

A day or two before Halloween, we got the idea to create a pumpkin headed mannequin.  We set him in a chair at the end of our trail.

As we sat at the kitchen table on Halloween day, I said “We need a story to tie this together”.  So in a matter of a few minutes, we created this narrative:

“Few people are aware that a long time ago, there was a mine here at Collins Pond.  An old man by the name of Cooper Collins worked the mine digging out iron ore.  One day he discovered some gems, and worked feverishly to find more.

One tragic night, which happened to be Halloween, the mine collapsed while Cooper Collins worked.  He was never heard from again.  Tonight we are re-creating those events”

Tina would greet the trick-or-treaters at our back step and pass out the flashlights.  I would tell this story as we walked through the back yard, past the ghost infested garden Tina had built.  We would continue under the gate to the path, through the spider webs where, as far as I knew, most of the spiders were fake.






When we came to the mine, the trick-or-treaters would be handed off to Sarah, and she would continue the narrative.

“Folks, this is the entrance to the Jenny Rose Mine (Jenny Rose is the name of our new granddaughter).  As you walk through, use your lights to find things on the walls.  At the end of the mine, find the gem.  If you dare, stick your hand in the gem and you will find treasure” 

Upon doing this, the little ones would find candy behind the flap in the tunnel, supplied by Elias and Tyler.  At one point, Tyler was dubbed “Mr. Green Monster” by one of the kids when they saw the green sleeves of his jacket.

 



After exiting the mine, folks would be greeted by Wendell.  Wendell would review the story of Cooper Collins with them, which continued like this:

“The fate of Cooper Collins is unknown.  But some people say he continues to search for gems in the mine to this day.  Some people say he guards the mine.  Some claim to have seen him on Halloween Night.  So be careful as you continue down the path!”

A short distance down the path, the kids (and parents) would find our pumpkin headed mannequin.

            “Oh look!  That must be Cooper Collins!  And look – he has some treasure on his knee.”

 


Our mannequin had the ability to raise his arm.  Wendell would have previously sat a piece of candy on Cooper’s knee under that raised arm, and as someone would be instructed to grab the candy “If they dared”, Tyler would allow the arm to drop (it was controlled by a string which went back to Tyler).  A couple of the kids actually shook hands with Cooper. 

The whole thing was a spectacular success, on so many levels.  The “group effort” aspect is obvious - the ideas, the physical work, the provision of materials.  We had one family who said, “I see you need lights – get what you need and we will pay for them.”  One person borrowed some lights from her workplace.  The biggest surprise of all was when a best friend from high school drove up our driveway on Halloween Day.  He had been following my Facebook posts regarding the project, and decided to drop in.  C.P. and I visited until Katherine arrived and we set about carving Jack-o-Lanterns.  

Perhaps most noteworthy of all, we were reminded of how enjoyable it is to work together, to enjoy each other, and to create.

Can’t end this without a hearty thank you for everyone involved, a thank you for the encouraging comments, and a thank you for everyone who, in one way or another, shared in some light-hearted fun in a day when we could all really use some!

 


Thursday, October 29, 2020

Boys

 

Our older son has been riding a motorcycle for a couple years now.  Before he returned to college this Fall, I mentioned to him that it would be fun if our younger son and I had motorcycles next summer so we could ride together.  He loved the idea, and I began to help our younger son search for one.

After a couple of months of looking on the internet, I saw something which had potential and decided to contact the owner. He was, literally, a little old man.  I sent him a message and didn’t hear anything for a couple of days.  I figured he was illiterate in the ways of the internet (turns out he wasn't). Then he messaged an answer to my question, and we began a conversation about what our family was trying to do. 

The gentleman was the type of person I like buying from. He seemed to have taken good care of the bike.  His listing information was voluminous, perhaps the best listing I’ve ever seen.  It didn’t take long to conclude this could be a win-win for all of us. 

Then I asked Asher what he thought.  His response was “If you think it’s a good deal and a good purchase, I’d be open to it, but I’m not super excited about the bike.”  That’s all I needed to hear.  I messaged the gentleman the essence of that conversation and that we were passing.  He said he understood.

That evening, I was looking at another bike Asher had indicated he liked.  The price was a little high and it had a few obvious but repairable issues.  Out of curiosity I messaged the seller (a local motorcycle dealer) and asked if the bike had other issues.  He said other than the carburetors needing cleaning and those problems I had seen in the pictures, the bike was fine.  Then he told me they had just lowered the price (significantly) because they didn’t want to have to do the repairs themselves. 

I spoke to our older son, who said if we didn’t buy it, he would - sight unseen.  He had been looking for this style of bike but hadn’t seen a decent one at the right price.  I spoke to another friend who has worked on our older son’s bike.  He actually volunteered to take a look at this one.

The following morning, I took off work and my boy and I headed to the dealer.  The bike looked as good as the pictures portrayed.  We chatted a while with the salesman.  The mechanic friend who had offered to come look showed up, and gave us the thumbs up.

We left with a motorcycle.

My boy smiled the whole way home.  He had found a bike he could be excited about.

Now the plan is to upgrade our older boy’s bike with something he would prefer, and I would take over his Honda Shadow. 

Boys.  You gotta love us.