This is our block...the back side of Main Street (East Side) from South (on the left) to North. We live on the North end in the corner (the reddish darker building in the corner just over the top of the white pickup in the picture). This is in Three Rivers, MI.

I should note that there is a lot of construction going on. The parking lot that I stood in to take the photo is brand new, and it raised the level of the street by about 15 or 20 feet. There is a narrow alley of sorts between the parking lot and the buildings with catwalk like suspended sidewalks. Meyer Ventures bought 13 (I think) buildings and completely renovated them in the last year or two, and we live in one of Meyer's buildings. Also, I should note that my great grandfather, Isaac Null, built most of these buildings over 100 years ago.

This is how the river looked (real foggy) on Saturday morning as I went to work. This is at the intersection of Constantine Street and Mintdale Road near Constantine, MI.

Bad Boys

Yesterday, Jen and I were driving around town in her convertible, and we watched a police officer pull over a white Dodge 4 X 4 in a driveway. We drove by twice. The second time the cop was in his car looking up info on his computer, and we drove about a block to the intersection of Michigan and Wood Street where Pauls Pantry, a run down, little, party store is.

We saw 15 or 20 people fighting at the party store. I don’t mean shouting and poking fun at each other. I mean beating the daylights out of each other in the parking lot. I did a quick U turn and raced back north to the cop who slowly rolled down his window when I pulled up beside him.

“Yeah”

“You know there’s a huge fight going on down there?”

“Where?”

“The party store. There must be at least 15.”

He just took off. The guy in the truck was visibly upset lifting his arms in the air like “what about me?”

As we drove off we heard sirens all over the city, and when we drove by a couple of minutes later there were four police cars there.

Did I feel good about myself? I don’t know. It was kinda fun.

The Smiling "G"

Anyone remember the Smiling G? My mom used to take us kids to the Smiling G (or Goodwill) on occassion), and my wife has adopted the same passion for getting slightly used clothing and things at bargain prices.

Yesterday, I came home and she ran up to me with a huge plastic bag. I didn't realize they made plastic bags that you could take home a pool table in. Anyway, she says, " Look what I got for only $30!" And, she starts taking out clothes...pants, shorts, etc...

I looked at her proudly holding a very unique pair of black and white checkered dress shorts with that goofy smile on her face, and I couldn't help myself. I said, "You know the great thing about shopping at the Goodwill in a small community like Three Rivers?" She squints and the smile begins to fade. "It's only a matter of time before you meet the previous owner."

So... she refused to show me the rest of the contents of the bag. Hmmm.

I should note that my mother once had a dream where she bought used popcorn from the Smiling G. It was the unpopped corn that always sits on the bottom of the bowl.

The photo is out our living room window at night. There is a tree in front that is blooming.

Dave

This is Dave.

We were at the "Tap Room", a neighborhood bar about a block from our apartment, tonight, and while I worked on my computer, Jen talked to Dave. Dave ended up confessing that he believes and God and is terrified by that belief. He also confessed to holding on to the anger from his wife's suicide 20 some odd years ago. It has crushed his life and brought him to a real low point. He openly cried as Jen and he spoke. He is afraid of trusting God and going to heaven because he believes that there is no forgiveness for suicide since the offender can't ask forgiveness. If he goes to heaven, he'll never see his wife again. Wow. That's a real struggle. I believe that my sins are covered by Christ's work not my asking forgiveness.

If Dave ever sees this, I hope he knows that I have a lot of respect for what he's gone through and where he is in life. Dave isn't really any different from the rest of us. He is struggling. I struggle. You struggle. The church is full of Dave's in one form or another. I pray the Lord opens his eyes just as I pray the Lord opens mine.

I found myself thinking about how little difference there is between Dave and I. Wow. I struggle with issues that are just as core and unsettling as Dave does. I feel like crying openly sometimes as I thrash about in this world. I wonder if Dave is an evangelistic opportunity or a vist of an angel unawares...

The Rise of the Romanists

There’s a new trend with young people today. We all need an authority over us in order to feel secure in our place, and we live in a maturing anti-authoritarian age. Parents have allowed children to do whatever the children want. Schools have labeled behavior problems “learning disabilities” and we reward the anti-authoritarian attitudes. The majority of evangelical protestant churches have taken a very anti-authoritarian approach in order to attract attendees. The gospel has been relegated from the central authority of our lives to a nice social and emotional addition to our lives.

I see the children of this era as wanting a solid foundation that is outside of themselves, and they are turning to institutions which are willing to provide it. They end up in prison, the military, the Jehovah Witnesses, and the Roman Catholic Church.

I know several friends who have ventured to the Roman Church as a means of finding definition and authority under which they might flourish. One of them in particular can be found at http://paleocrat.blogspot.com/

I’m not sure if this makes sense? Any comments?

The picture is a photo I took of the Roman Catholic Church in Mendon, MI.

This is Three Rivers Christian Reformed Church from the air. This is the church that God has chosen to bless us with.

Valley centerpivot on M-60 on my way from Three Rivers to Battle Creek. I thought it looked pretty cool. These are the machines that MAISCO (where I work) designs, sells builds and maintains.

Downtown Three Rivers, Michigan. We live just to the left of this photo. The sky is, freakishly, the actual sky...weird. I've seen similar photos taken 50 or 60 years ago, and this is my first attempt to replicate that with today's storefronts etc... Visit sometime.

An abandoned church in Parkville, MI. Wasn't sure how this will turn out. Parkville is just North of Three Rivers.

Reasonable Service (or Such a Price)

This Sunday I preached at our church, since our pastor was away. I spoke on Lord’s Day 16 of the Heidelberg Catechism which refers to the passage in the Apostle’s Creed about Christ’s suffering, death, burial and descent into Hell. I read a lot of Calvin on the subject and it changed my view which I had learned from other commentators and preachers.

Calvin basically says that the physical suffering and death of even a God/Man (God of very God, man of very man. Fully God and fully Man) could hardly have paid for the contemptuous nature of our sin. Calvin points out that the wages, which must be satisfied, are the second death or Hell; and Christ surely had to receive in himself the recompense for that sin in his very soul in order to satisfy God’s jealous anger. He goes on to point out just how terrified Christ seems to be in the Garden of Gethsemane. I always tended to downplay the fear in his voice, but Calvin accentuates it. All of this leads to a fuller understanding of: My God! My God! Why hast Thou forsaken me?

That was the price He paid. That was the dowry this Bridegroom paid for His bride. As the bride of Christ, how does this awesome and terrible price that was paid for us effect our lives, our decision making, and even the simple and easy to see parts of our life? How does it effect my budget? How does it influence how I spend my time?

He paid for us. I am His child in the palm of His hand and no one (even myself) can remove me from his protection. I don’t have to fret, but what is my reasonable service?

To glorify Him with all I have.

Tim Wagner's Valley at Fawn River Road and Mill Pond Road near White Pigeon, MI.

John Miller Farm on Engle Road between White Pigeon, Constantine and Centreville, Michigan. Somebody is plowing with the John Deere articulating tractor.

Jerry Jones' farm on Sevison Road.

My wife and I were walking over to Piasano's for a little food and beverage the other evening and I snapped a picture of one of the cooler old buildings in town. This home is being used as an insurance company. This home is about 500 ft. from our place.

Redemption Question:

My pastor asked me a question the other day, and we had a lively discussion about it. I would like to hear views and opinions on it. I'll weigh in eventually.

"Are the redemption of souls and the redemption of the world separate or are the synonymous? If they are two different things, how are they related and do they necessarily involve eachother at every turn? Is our life work to strive toward the redemption of souls? The whole world? How do these interact for us?"

Thought you all may want to comment.

Grandpa Joe

I have a lot of respect for my Grandpa. He left to make his own way in life. He fought in World War 2 and was wounded severely in the Pacific. He recovered, married my Grandma, bought a farm and raised a large family. I respect his decisions, his successes, and his determination. This is a picture of him at our Easter family get together today.

This is a picture of my wife (barely visible in the middle under the bridge) a couple of blocks away from our apartment.

Here's a crazy (and not very good poem) that I wrote. I actually dreamed this, and thought of writing a poem about it when I woke up this morning. Enjoy... or at least tolerate! LOL.

Flog

A crazy yell and spill the beer
Through the hedge, o'er the rise
Club held erect without fear
To hole eighteen for the prize
Ball on the ground flat and sheer

Push it to the fair with a plow
Smack and it sails up to a clou’

Race in the night for the find
Look and look; there it is
No, just a nut of some kind
Despair, anger; what ‘bout this?
Drop another no one’ll mind

Whack! Wood on the ball
Hopin’ near to the tee it’ll fall

Once more then it’s close
Put dimpled round on the pole
Three more swings the mos’
Start ‘gain... prize in the next hole
All are runnin’ to see who’ll boas’

Better exercise than taking a jog
A backwards game we call flog

Joe hasn't updated his blog, so I will. This is Jen.

Joe and I recently went on a great week-long trip to DC, MD, and VA. We saw a lot of wonderful things. I think that he may reflect upon something about this trip... I'm sure that this un-authorized post will draw some sort of response.

For those who watch Joe's blog, stay tuned for something... soon!

Signing off for now! Hoping for some sort of respnse!

Jen