Opinions

Last time I was on a boat was the Maid of the Mist at Niagara Falls in Buffalo. It was sea-worthy and required passengers to wear a cheap, hooded, blue plastic baggy to prevent passengers from getting soaked when the double-decker neared the falls.

Give Catholics credit for standing strong. And when they flex, they show a fearless resolve about what is important to them. One such tenet is abortion, and the Catholic Church is a spiritual force in Western Civilization.

I was eating a pimiento cheese sandwich and watching the CBS Evening News when a professional portrait of Dr. Jesse Steinfeld appeared on the screen. My chewing became intentionally slower and slower as I stared at the television screen.

Last week we talked about how desperately we need to reach all children for Christ, and I still have much to say on the matter. God loves the little children and always made it a point to spend quality with them. Why? Because He knew that when a child learns about God and the eternal truth is planted deep within their hearts, it will always be there. One of the passages about that promise is found in Proverbs 22:6, “Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.” This is talking about investing our time to show them what God says, demonstrating righteous behavior, and teaching them to resist temptation, standing for what is true even if it is not popular. Let us remember that Jesus loves the little children and no matter what the world believes or how we are persecuted for rejecting sin, protecting an innocent child is our responsibility.

I wonder if my presence in an auto parts store is a little bit like a truck driver shopping in a fine lingerie boutique. On this hot, summer day, the usual suspects at the auto parts store were comfortable on the stools at the counter; they know each other well. They talk about early morning flat tires and thank the owner for opening up “just for me” when trouble hit last weekend. They complain about the heat, ask about recent meniscus surgery and then they go their merry way.

It was time to come back from Mexico. It wasn’t because of the weather. The weather was wonderful. The nights up in the mountains were cool, and the days were warm, and sometimes, in the afternoons, a thunderstorm would roll in, and a refreshing rain would fall, leaving the air clean and sweet. No. It wasn’t the weather.

At the local golf course, which is beginning to resemble an old folks home, we’ve been playing Scrabble since “women of a certain age” shouldn’t be golfing in heat index temperatures exceeding 110 degrees.

Dating back to my childhood, the sound of the William Tell Overture meant only one thing, the Lone Ranger and Silver were galloping to the rescue. That music still reverberates hope.