Opinions

As I stood in line, outside a bathroom at a restaurant in a nearby coastal town, I was surrounded by the clamor of young girls, accompanied by two mothers.

It took place in 2006 and left me as sad as a wilted daffodil. Readers here are surely acquainted with the grief of this writer. A life-long truth was vacated by the heartless at the International Astronomical Union (IAU). That was the year the unfeeling organization reduced the number of planets from nine to eight. Once considered a member of our solar system, it was discovered in 1930. It was located in the Kuiper Belt, beyond Neptune’s orbit. Pluto is the largest of the icy bodies found in a donut-shaped region on the outskirts of the planets, where Earth is among them. The Kuiper has no planets since the lab-coats detached the wee wittle Pluto.

Everyone loves a good party. Bringing a dish and maybe a card for the host is about the cost for most. Of course, the grub and the beverages will be good, the atmosphere a big positive, plus, we can leave prior to the clean-up.

It was a thousand nautical miles ago when the daughter and I rode in circles in our little, family boat, just beyond the boat ramp at Dekle Beach.

A national headline this week struck me as almost funny; “Dem strategy session to stop hemorrhaging of male voters ridiculed.” The Democratic Party’s tarnished image is well-earned. Their always-angry trend is leaving behind the older members of the party like stale chips. How often have you seen so many people make poor decision after poor decision? But then, when bitterness turns into malice, the corresponding actions appear justified by antipathy for their opponent. Rather than looking at their own actions and their position, they focus on retribution.

It was a beautiful, sunshiny day, but only now can I write about it. The euphoria I was enjoying began to deflate like a balloon as I slowly stopped the car on the side of a Georgia highway and turned off the radio. For my own comfort, I increased the air conditioning and then lowered my car window. “Good afternoon, officer,” I said. “I’ve just had the most lovely weekend with my college friends. We’ve been friends for more than 50 years and try to gather once a year to catch up—we’re scattered across the Southeast. One flew in from Austin, Texas.

When discussing eternal life, it brings up one of two emotions and attitudes. Those who believe in the Bible and have Christ as their Lord become excited and grateful that God has saved them and promised to be with them forever in a glorious paradise. On the other side, we find the ones who criticize and declare that God is only a dream and the Bible is a fairy tale. These are the rebellious individuals who deny His existence and mock those who stand for Him. I’m often asked to speak and pray at secular gatherings where many are not Christians, and I love these opportunities to acknowledge Jesus as the Lord and King of heaven and earth. Afterwards, the atmosphere becomes quiet and awkward, like I said something wrong. Actually, it’s the Holy Spirit causing this dividing line between the light and the darkness. The righteous rejoice while the lost try to hide in shame.

Dear Editor:

With the end of World War II in Europe, letters from American families seeking information about their loved ones began arriving at town halls across the southern Netherlands. Postmarked from big cities and small towns, from those of privilege and those barely scraping by, each one contained a heartbreaking request similar to that of a young widow from Demopolis, Alabama: My husband…was killed in Germany on his birthday, April 18, 1945, and is buried in the U.S. Military Cemetery at Margraten, Holland, near your town of Maastricht…He was my whole life to me…Since you live so near…I will be grateful all of the days of my life if you can get me a snapshot of his grave.