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Amazing Light Show  

Like you, I’m trying to cram in the last bits of summer.  Out at our camper, I sat outside with my tablet.  Dusk was past, yet I was largely unaware of the light show going on around me: fireflies. At length, I took a break from my reading to (finally) observe the lightning bugs.

Consider these gentle light bearers whose lifespan is only about two months.  They have no batteries—at least not as you and I consider batteries. These bugs just light up. The glow of their light bursts is brief, but somehow comforting.  And despite our advances in technology, scientists are unable to explain just how the blinking yellow-green lights are turned on and off.

God could have designed these bugs so that they fly only in the tree tops—largely outside our comfortable range of vision.  Instead, He chose to give us an amazing nightly light show right at eye level—with no two evening performances ever the same.

Only after a long time of observation did it hit me that this remarkable scene I was enjoying was supported by a stunning soundtrack: a blend of crickets and cicadas performing a hypnotic symphony.

No charge for this show.  The price of admission: time and a capacity to be satisfied with childhood wonder.

And that's the sick irony.   Most of us take only a sip of such splendor, while we drink deeply of lesser things: our smartphones, TV’s and tablets. We are more inclined to Facebook or FaceTime then face the miracle of a nightly light show.

Psalms 19:1 “The Heavens declare the glory of God. The skies”-- blinking with fireflies--”proclaim the Work of His hands.”

Seen any good light shows lately?

 
A Beautiful Ugly  

If you are charmed by the aroma of pine trees and find magic in the sway of long needle branches, the place for you is White Pines State Park. The timber lined drive is itself worth the trip.

But the real draw to this 385 acre Illinois park is the log cabin dining room.  Built by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s, its massive timbers, dark with age, offer a gracious backdrop for lunch.

 

Having placed our food orders, my wife and I sat back in our chairs and took in the ambience.  That's when my eyes came to rest on the two-some at the corner table.  The woman was well into her sixties, maybe early seventies.  Her companion, though an adult, was considerably younger.

As he spoke, he gestured oddly--almost wildly--his hands bent at a severe angle, his legs thrashing now and again.   It was as if a computer glitch had disconnected a proper sense of motion from the man's brain.   (Cerebral palsy will do that, my wife quietly observed).

When the couple’s lunch arrived, the woman cut up his portion into tiny bites, speaking kindly to him.  As this guy turned his head, I saw him chewing—violently--face contorted.  Frankly, it was downright unappetizing.

I began asking myself who was this man?  What was his story?  And more importantly, who was this woman extending such patience and care?  His mother?  His aunt?

He mashed up food, grinding with a ferocious intensity—then sneezed.  She wiped his mouth graciously, continuing to speak softly while touching his wrist lovingly. It was tempting to try and eavesdrop on their conversation, but there was far too much noise in the log cabin to make out anything of their exchange.

Nevertheless, as I watched this beautiful ugly scene (for it was both), I heard another voice—an ancient one: “Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.”

 
What a Difference the Presence of Jesus Makes!  

They say the town is only one square mile--has less than a thousand residents.  But every year, half a million people come for a visit.

I'm talking about the phenomena known as Shipshewana, Indiana.  This tiny strip of land is home to one of the largest flea markets in the entire United States—and some of the best eating on the planet.

More remarkable than the food or the farms is the faith element.  A strong Mennonite and Amish presence is evident in the Bible verses that you see, the music streamed into restaurants and the Christian books and concerts available seemingly everywhere.

 

My wife and I took a buggy ride out to an Amish house for dinner.  Afterward, she asked the tour operator about crime in the area.  “Don't have much of that,” he chuckled, adding, “I haven't locked my doors in the 28 years we've been here.  Tried to once, but the lock was stuck, so I haven't bothered with it since.”

Indeed, the one squad car we saw patrolling the streets looked pathetic for lack of action.   My wife observed that in a mall, individual stores closed at different times with no gates or doors barring their merchandise.   The idea of stealing is, apparently, not part of the local culture.

Everything is clean.  Everything is safe.  Everything is comfortable.

It dawned on me that in large part, this must be the result of Christian people doing their best to run their businesses according to Christian principles, and live their lives in a truly Christian way.  And it seems to rub off on the general population.    Decency, honesty, uprightness, cleanliness—these are the byproducts.

My theory was bolstered some when we gassed up the car for the ride home just a few miles outside of town.  The place was void of the Christian atmosphere we'd previously experienced.   The property there was untidy and the people appeared seedy.  Of course, one can't over generalize.  Nevertheless, the connection seems apparent.

Isaiah 32:17 “And the effect of righteousness will be peace, and the result of righteousness, quietness and trust forever.”

What a difference the presence of Jesus makes!

 
How Long Can it Last?  

Horses clip-clopping along the streets, black wagons in tow.   Women in bonnets and men in suspenders.    You don't need a time machine to see all this.  Just drive three hours east of Chicago to Shipshewana.

During vacation season, this northern Indiana town of less than a thousand swells with tourists hungry for a taste of the simple life—along with a heapin' helping of Amish cooking.  The Amish and Mennonite people have set the gold standard when it comes to country roast beef.  Their noodles, fresh breads, apple butter and fruit pies are also stand outs.  Not to be missed: the Rise and Roll Bakery, featuring what may well be the world's largest cinnamon sticky buns.

The strong Amish and Mennonite presence is evident everywhere--from bearded men sporting wide brimmed hats, to women riding bicycles laden with blueberries. But what struck my wife and me more than anything was the visible presence of God-fearing people unashamed to live for Him.

  • Bible verses adorn mail boxes and driveways.
  • Billboards announce the imminent return of Christ.
  • Christian books, verses, and videos are for sale in hardware, clothing and furniture stores.
  • Several theaters in town host a slate of concerts with well-known Christian artists.

As we sat there eating a tasty Mennonite dinner, peering out at horse-drawn buggies in the street, my wife Diana asked an insightful question: “How long can a place like this last?” I pondered her words as “Are you washed in the Blood?” played over the restaurant's speaker system.

With the rise of the angry atheist and freedom-of-speech squelching political correctness, one wonders if Shipshewana (as we know it today) is living on borrowed time.  In a nation where the fastest growing religious group is those with no beliefs of any kind, it would seem Shipshewana may be terminal.

Horses and buggies, of course, will always be welcome for the novelty they offer.   But all that Bible and Jesus talk--that might have to be nixed.

2 Timothy 3:1 “This know also, that in the last days, perilous times shall come.”

Better enjoy Shipshewana--while you still can.

 
Meticulous Musick  

Captain Edwin Musick was a man’s man, a true adventurer. He learned to fly just before World War I and became one of the first pilots in history to log more than 10,000 hours.

Known as “Meticulous Musick,” he demanded precision of himself and his crew—from the way they maintained the aircraft to the creases in their uniforms.

He was hired by Pam American as their chief pilot and went on to set ten world records, including the first flight to the Pacific aboard the China Clipper flying boat. In recognition of this stunning achievement—and many other aviation firsts—Time Magazine put his face on the cover of their December 2, 1935 edition.

The Time article said of Musick, “He refuses to show off or make wisecracks for newsmen. He has never been known to stunt in a plane, never makes a flight without the most meticulous preparations.”

On January 11, 1938, Captain Musick took off from Pago Pago (in American Samoa) pioneering a new route for PamAm to New Zealand. Shortly after takeoff in his S42 flying boat, he reported an oil leak in engine number 4, radioing his decision to dump fuel and return to Pago Pago.

But the dangers of dumping fuel in the S-42 were well known. The draining fuel tended to flow back over the wing, toward the dangerously hot engines.

Shortly after reporting their intention to dump fuel, the S-42 exploded.  The bodies of Captain Musick and his six crew members were never recovered.  Tiny pieces of the plane were all that remained.

When someone as careful and as experienced as Captain Musick makes a fatal error in judgment, it makes me pause.  It should make ALL of us pause and ask, “What kind of foolish error am I making in life?  In my faith?  What danger have I allowed into my spiritual journey?”

Pondering foolish choices—Captain Musick’s and mine—I’m drawn to Ephesians 5:15: “Be very careful, then, how you live--not as unwise but as wise.”

 
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Jon GaugerJon Gauger

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