What do you get when you take an old high school friend, throw in a chance meeting at Tabor College’s homecoming weekend and an invitation to stay for a weekend, plus $10, a tiny water filter and a chance of a lifetime?
Answer: Absolutely nothing.
It was one of those times when you anticipate a reunion of former high school chums, where one can reminisce about old times and enjoy the day. One doesn’t always correctly anticipate the outcome, however.
The chance meeting and visit during the football game went quite well. From there, it was nothing I neither expected nor wanted.
Between the beginning of the game and the closing seconds of the fourth quarter, our conversation followed the normal course of events, along with updates on each other’s family and career.
Family and friends recently bid farewell to Jonah Kliewer, professor emeritus of Tabor College. His passing, though anticipated by those closest to him, came too quickly for his family, numerous friends and acquaintances.
The memorial service, wonderfully prepared by family members, was a loving reflection of a life lived in service to God and others.
Sometime after the service ended, someone made an interesting comment. “Why must all the good ones go?”
The question remains appropriately unanswered, and yet, whenever I think about it, my response varies. At first, I quickly agree, “Yes. Why?”
Technology exists for man’s benefit. Then again, I’m convinced there are days when man exists for technology’s entertainment, especially when Murphy’s Law comes into play.
For example, as the television broadcast industry gears up for the transition from analog television signals to digital, this Murphy fellow is busily writing new laws with the gleeful ferocity of a gremlin on a mission.
“The power of accurate observation is frequently called cynicism by those who don’t have it.”
— George Bernard Shaw
When it comes to selecting the next president of the United States, trying to find common sense approaches to good government by any of the three contenders is akin to finding a needle in a haystack. It’s even worse when one looks at agricultural policy.
Our cat population on the farm currently stands at two, down sharply from a baker's dozen since two years ago. The short haired female’s name is Baby, a distant descendant of a female we received from some neighbors back in the ’80s.
