I Want to Spend a Lifetime with my Three Best Friends

My mother texted me a series of photos last Thursday and I have been unable to get past this one for the last four days. First of all let's just get the pants out of the way... yeah, I want those pants back, I'd wear them to work tomorrow. More than that though, for me that photo is as iconic as those seventies fashions. That's my Pappaw Harry. I'd break my Mom and Dad's rules over and over each time he'd ask me to go outside and get him a pack of Marlboros from the the car glove box. I have no idea why he kept them there? It must have been convenience? I suppose he'd stop by his favorite store and pick them up on his way home from work. He worked at Black Clawson. I think he was a welder?

I was forbidden by my parents from touching cigarettes... but he'd sit there in his leather recliner, and when he said my name, there was nothing that I wouldn't do for him. He was my Pappaw. I'm so glad I was disobedient. It's a good memory. 

The younger fella next to him is my Dad. There's no one in the world I admire more. I've come to know more of his story.  I know that there is yet more to know. He's taken care so that I will know it when the time comes. The more I learn, the more he has my loyalty and respect. I see his father in him and I see them both in me. He gives me the soundest of advice and he loves my mother deeply. I could not ask for a better father. 

The Big Red truck gets an honorable mention. That's "Big Red." Big Red is pictured in my mind every time I think of my Dad. That truck was like a super-hero when I was a kid. I remember flying in the back of it, or sitting on a tool-box with Dad's arm around me as we went down country roads in Preble County, Ohio. My childhood was pure magic. 

Of course I'm the little guy there. So much of my life was unwritten. Now, some forty years later I'd share all of my life with you openly. Heck, what do you want to know... I don't care much for secrets. Some details I feel really good about, amazed really. Others... well, my voice would soften a bit when I tell you about them. But, I find myself here today, on the right side of the dirt, and I don't aim to live with regret.

There's another not pictured. My son, Caleb. My view of him is greater than that of the lot of us. For sure he carries our blood, but he is something more. He still carries the promise that is seen in the eyes of myself in that photo above. While he carries the grit of us all, he also carries a promise of something more. 

In short, all three men: Thomas Harry, Leo Thomas, and Caleb Thomas, define my life. Who I am can be measured in who they are. Two were before me, one is after me. Two shaped who I am and one is representative of who I am. Four generations of Shepherds. 

Had I only a single wish, it would quickly pass from my lips. I wish to spend a lifetime with Harry, Tom, and Caleb as my best friends. I want to grow up with them. I want to fish with them, hunt with them, go to camp with them, talk about girls with them, share life with families with them, grow old with them, and spend eternity with them. I think there'd never be a better set of friends. 

Maybe that is what heaven will be?

On the First Day of School

My coffee came early again this morning as summer surrendered to this season known as back to school. I stand at the threshold of an unknown year to come. This summer has been so sweet and I've learned to savor each day, drinking up the warmth and the sunlight, filling my soul and adding a golden tint to my skin.

I've roamed continents and lived abroad, but the steady pace of time reigns as the grandest adventure I've ever faced. It's the steady tick of the clock, the constant ebb of the ocean, the rising of the sun that cannot be changed by the force of my will. The universe is vast. The universe is small.

The universe is vast like standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon. No camera can capture it's length. I feel pulled towards the chasm as the wind pushes against my face. The universe is small as I realize that what matters to me is larger than the expanse.

A cup of coffee, warm memories of the summer, and silhouettes in the morning light. My soul is here. Today I pause to recognize the moment.

Three In a Tonka Truck... Passing Fence Posts

"How strange it is that when I was a child I tried to be like a grown-up, yet as soon as I ceased to be a child I often longed to be like one." -Leo Tolstoy

I hear the sounds of birds and the ebb and flow of Dad pushing the lawn mower somewhere out side of my window. The sunlight warmed my face before I opened my eyes. I'd stretch my legs out and look down at my Spiderman footie pajamas. It was summer and imagination fueled my daily adventure. 

After breakfast I'd grab my old sneakers, pull on a favorite pair of jeans... both legs at a time, grab a couple of Kellogg's fruit bars, and set out on the Tonka Dump truck to explore the outer regions of the frontier. 

The yard of my childhood home was a rectangle shaped fence-line that had been set by my Dad and Grandpa. A one-acre tract was an endless and somehow safe expanse of wilderness that required careful reconnaissance. G.I. Joe figures, usually Duke and Snake-Eyes, would go in the bed of the truck and we'd set out along the rusted wire and rough wooden posts. 

The muddy and stained knees of my jeans were layered with scratchy ironed-on patches that shuffled along hour after hour as Duke and Snake-Eyes made their way through the foreign territory, talking to each other about life and taking in the expanse. They felt how small they were in the world, and they recognized that together they were enough to face absolutely anything that came their way.

Birds the size of houses would sweep and dive their way, dogs that were large enough to eat them whole, and sometimes terrapins or snakes from pre-historic times blocked their path... but nothing could turn them away from their mission of securing that fence line. 

My mind would wander forward into the future... searching for what life might bring. And now, some thirty years into that future, I stand in a dusty antique store, looking at that same truck, meeting the gaze of my wonder-eyed self. 

I reached down and turned the truck so the dump bed faced me as I dropped down onto my still jean-clad knees. I gripped the sides of the bed and remembered the feel of that grass and dirt covered fence row. I closed my eyes and traveled back to that time and that place. The experiences of the decades that separated me from that boy... vanished.

Once again I felt the breeze and I heard the birds as the wind moved the leaves in the surrounding treetops. I remember the adventure of those days, the endless expanse of being a boy in southwestern Ohio, and the sense of taking over the world in a day. 

I remember who I was. I remember how I wanted to take life. My mind began to reconcile where I've been, what I've done, and how I might measure up to my young hero-self.

"Dad, come and look at these old post-cards!" The voice of my fifteen year old daughter brought me firmly back to the present. I stood and I looked over at her. She is beautiful. She stood radiant among the dust of time and eclipsed the memories of what once was. 

Once again I found myself wondering into the future. Her future. The fence-posts and horizons that she'll take. I smiled at her as I walked over to the post-card rack. 

With a nod back to my childhood self who stood waving back by the Tonka truck, I walked over to my daughter, ready to walk past a few fence posts and milestones of life... together.

It's the Happiest Place in the World, kids (watch out for meltdowns)

It's not about the mouse. I think Walt knew that. I'm not sure he'd approve of the extortionate $4.50 that I paid for a twenty ounce Coke Zero, but then again, his Coca-Cola was made with pure cane sugar and chilled in a bottle of glass. I handed over my credit card and car title and asked the young girl at the register, "Seriously?" She said, "I know, right?" I smiled as I twisted off the cap and let the heavenly beverage pour down my throat.

Maybe it's a little about the ears? There's a little magic that happens when your daughters put on the ears. Something unseen shifts and life gets a layer of wonderdust. There simply is no other place on the planet where it is acceptable to wear those bedazzled ears, and yet here... they include you in an inclusive-exclusive club of smiles and enchantment.

It's about family. Relationship. Flashbulb time-stamped moments of image-specific, life-perspective filters that forever change how we see one-another and remind us how we are created to see life. Imagination. Thrill. Hope. Contentment.

We soared through the atmosphere, we rocketed to Mars, we danced around the world with a song in our hearts, we fought pirates, dreamed with Mermaids, battled aliens, and felt the adrenaline of a race-track. We shared laughter, smiles, and the compulsory conversation of line-waiting. Somehow those in-between attraction turnstile crawls were the best part.

It was a pretty good twenty dollar cheeseburger, I appreciated that the topping bar had jalapenos, and the authentic (plastic) German beer stein that I lifted was somehow worth the $10.50 at the end of the day... but it was all mere backdrop to what I believe was the vision of the man behind the mouse so many years ago... a place where a family can again feel the magic of the heart, and the wonder of living this life together. 

It's a world of laughter, a world of tears

It's a world of hopes and a world of fears

There's so much that we share

That it's time we're aware

It's a small world after all 

I love how my son loves his little sis.

My father, the Viking King looks perfectly at home with the horns. 

This girl's design won second overall of the day.

Eat it, Emperor Zurg. Calamity & Hickok won the day!

Our family and Mr. Morales (who forgot his t-shirt).

Sidney Outback to School in My Yard

Tom Planck, life-long friend asked me today, "So Shep, how are you doing?" I took a quick self-inventory (I was breathing, not bleeding, not in pain, under no duress), and I said, "Well, pretty good." 

He looked at me with skepticism and said, "Really?" I returned his expression and said, "Yeah." He leaned in and peered into my heart a bit and said, "Look, I know what you're going through right now because I'm there too."

There it was, reality cascading into my facade. My oldest, Caleb is at Cedarville University. It's been a big week of transition. It was harder than I thought to leave him there and drive away. Even so, it is very good. I am so pleased with him.

How am I really? I'm pretty good. Tonight was a little different than ever before though. It was the first night before the first day of school that Caleb isn't with us... the first since 2005.

Aleksandra asked me if we could have a last night of summer bonfire. Folks up here in Anna like to burn things. I'll add it to my "Recents List". I've learned to love: country music, soccer, and burning things. Well, I've always loved to burn things.

Last year she made the same requests and I fired up the pit while the rain fell down. This year we're minus Caleb but we still have the rain. I flipped an old chair upside down to shield the fledgling fire. The rain fell down my face as I reflected on the past twelve years of being Caleb's Dad. 

I am so thankful and blessed and just overwhelmed. He is such an unexpected best part of my existence. I was so afraid when he was born, but I've just held him ever since. He knows that I'm not perfect, but he and I can laugh together and enjoy life like we're almost reading each other's thoughts.

And so I hold extra tight onto this beautiful soul. So tightly at times that it's uncomfortable for her as I desperately want to fill her with all the good that has ever crossed my path. When I look at her I know that I'd give my life for her without a moment's hesitation. I am so thankful that I have two more years with her before we drive away leaving her at Anderson University (Soar Ravens Soar).

And Sterling... when your big sister leaves, I am going to be a little wrecked. I thank God that I'll have a second round of bringing a child through adolescence. I'll get to live it all again with a new-found appreciation as your big sibs begin to carve out their lives. Don't you worry, once they take off, you'll be the "only child in residence." You're going to have it made kiddo. Just don't push it. There's no princesses in this family, and you're boyfriends are going to have a really hard time. 

And so this is our recorded snapshot at this point in life. A few folks will read it and a couple might even tear up a bit. But most importantly, I just wanted to capture this night, this moment, and my aware heart as I answer the question asked by a dear friend, "So Shep, how are you really doing?"

I am beautifully, irrevocably, hopelessly thankful.

The rain falls, we pop umbrellas & bust out s'mores.

Succeed a Little, Fail a Lot

I suppose its intrinsic to you that emotion comes on like waves, but that doesn't change the fact that sometimes the surf pounds me unaware and drives me into the sand. The force of the ocean dragged me out to sea today. I am a castaway drifting now in the tide.

It all happened in the most unlikely of likely places. We were all in a nice little row, like a Norman Rockwell painting. Myself, my nearly 18 year old son, my wife of some 23 years, my seven and a half year old daughter, and my nearly 15 year old daughter. 

The Connection Point Band led worship and we all were there in a line... the final Sunday before things unexpectedly changed just as we'd planned them. How could this happen, this thing that I've always known would happen? What kind of madness is this... this chronologically, logical day?

We stood there in worship, singing about the enduring love of our good God, and suddenly I was forced to consider that those words were manifested in this life that I share with those beside me. This is the final Sunday service that our family will share together before Caleb leaves home for university.

Life suddenly is making a shift and my own identity is changing... my relationship with my son is changing... the daily ebb and flow of my household... it all just changed.

I'm overwhelmed in the moment and I'm being rolled by the wave. It's knocked me off my feet with a swift sort of violence, and yet I'm smiling in the torrent while the salt of the ocean joins the tears from my face. 

"You are good, you are good, and your love endures..." the words roll off of my tongue and I am now sobbing with my hands held high... because I know that I do not deserve this moment... and yet, here we are.

There was a time not so long ago that marriage and family seemed so bleak. There was a time not so long ago that our faith journey seemed abandoned. There was a time not so long ago that we nearly surrendered everything to our enemy. And yet... by the grace of God we are here today.

"You are good, you are good and your love endures today."

I am forever lost in the flotsam of the ocean. What seemed to be pain, God has used to make something beautiful. While I was aware that people behind us would be watching and drawing conclusions... I knew that I had to be real in the moment and I brought my arm up around the shoulders of my son and I hugged him ever so tightly as I sent up a torrent of thanks to my God.

He is good. He is good and His love is alive in my life today. I am overwhelmed. I do not deserve to be here, and yet I embrace it with every cell of my body! Thank you God. Thank you God. Thank you God.

Caleb, my dear son... you'll find these words online eventually. I don't know when, but I do know that when you do it will be no mistake. I need to tell you that is ok to find some success in this life you now pursue. Success is tricky. It whispers into your ear insidious little lies. You have to fight to keep it real. Humility is a better life-raft than pride. 

But find some success and thank God for the moment. He will be there to greet you in your thankfulness. I found that to be true even today.

More importantly though my son, I give you permission to fail... and to fail a lot. There is nothing better than failure. Failure means you were bold enough to try. Failure means that you are reaching out into undiscovered oceans. Failure means that you've gained experience and knowledge that you didn't have before... and that is now unique to your experience. 

Succeed a little, and fail a lot. Failure is our greatest strength. It reminds us of our place in the universe, our reliance on God, and gives us great confidence to know that we still can exist and float on the other side. 

So let the waves come at you. Let them knock you off of your feet and roll you. Let their undertow transport you. And when you come back up, breath in that salty air and wipe your eyes.

God is good, God is good and His love endures... today.

Reflected Beams of Crimson and Amber

The evening sun fell into a familiar embrace with the ocean, staining the clouds with reflected beams of crimson and amber. Salt-water air kissed our faces with a soothing wind. There was something nearly primal that felt unseen at that colision of land, sea, and heaven. It was as if some deep part of my soul and even my skin was somehow drawing life into a buried part of me. 

This sunset silhouettes our lives in this right now, never to be duplicated moment. It is our notice of a snapshot that captures: Sterling at age seven, newly added as a competing member of the local gymnastics team, Aleksandra on the verge of her quinceanera, secretly taking driving lessons in abandoned parking lots, Caleb fresh returned from seven weeks at Camp Marengo, home only a few weeks before setting off in the Suzuki Esteem to Cedarville University, and Kellie and I standing (or running) in the midst, learning to take it all in and savor it as we refuse to see the days as slipping and instead grasp the moments as forever.

I am grateful to experience this sunset and to pause long enough to see my own place in its panorama. I realize both the weight of how I live my days, and the downy-lightness of a sunset that helps me to realize that there is a universe that is expansive beyond the scope of my vision, and a God who holds it all... from the primal unspoken healings, to the eternal spoken words of the beginning. 

Truly Madly Deeply... Living in the Bonus

I will always think of you in the sunlight of the Ulm Cathedral. We were so young then. We climbed to the top and I laid flat on my back to photograph you in the archway with sunlight silhouetting your figure. You were my fairy tale, my muse, my somehow forbidden secret that I had to hold.

I think of you at breakfast in Moscow. We had leveraged everything we had to exist in that moment. We'd taken loans on our retirement, mortaged against our house, borrowed from our parents and our grandparents, and we had landed ourselves by the grace of God in Russia to take home our daughter.

Every single morning the Savage Garden song, "Truly Madly Deeply" played. I felt like the entire world found a solidity in that moment. My world was perfect. I was with you. We were there together. We were adopting our daughter. Truly... yes, we were fully committed with no pretense. Madly... oh yes, it required a bit of madness. And deeply... I was absolultely sinking in the thick depths of our commitment.

I see you, girl. There have been times that I've lost you. We've covered so much ground since 1992. You said, "Yes," though... and it's been together ever since. I thank God for clanging TGI Bells and onion soup. I thank God for secret earrings purchased on a snowy carriage ride Cincinnati night.

This week your dear grandparents passed. Together, only days apart. I'm taken back to their 50th wedding anniversary in the hall of Breiel Boulevard. They made longevity feel young. Pure. Fresh. Right. How perfect that they married the same year that our favorite movie, It's a Wonderful Life, was released. They lived out that movie. 

Where do we go from here? It doesn't matter. It's about who I am with you, what we've done to get us to this point, and the three children we've produced together. Everything else is just bonus.

We're living in the bonus. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WQnAxOQxQIU&list=RDWQnAxOQxQIU&t=1

I Protect What is Mine to Hold

"All of the problems of our society today stem back to men not doing what they're created to do." Our group of thirty men gathered in a semi-circle considered the weight of these words. It was a holy and unlikely moment as a bunch of usually independent ragamuffins abandoned isolation for brotherhood. Suddenly we all understood the gravity of our role.

It seems that recent history has acted to remove the father from the home. Dad no longer works in the fields surrounding the house, living out virtues of creativity, problem solving, patience, and stick-to-it-ness, but he leaves early in the morning and returns exhausted in the evening. 

The home has become a sort of transit station where we all pass each other from our comings and goings. We no longer come and go together. Life comes at you fast and we trade our noble calling as men for an empty spin of work, entertainment, retirement, and death.

I am grounded in this moment by a slicing memory of my six year old daughter in my lap as I explained to her and Caleb that I was moving out of our home. My choice to abandon my promise as a husband and a father suddenly and destructively shattered lives as I saw the haunted vacancy behind my son's eyes and heard the sobs of my daughter. The promise of what would be our third child evaporated, traded for my selfish desires. 

My failure to be a real man had poisoned every life I touched. My darkened soul was taken in that moment and I fell into the abyss. 

Men, we were created to live out a sacred quest. We are called to challenge boys to become men. We are vital to a specific and unique role in society. We are to be kings, friends, lovers, and warriors... defending our families and our faith. We are created to give away our lives in exchange for these things that are of greater worth than our mere heartbeats.

But we die to our purpose when we become disillusioned by the whisperings of the one who comes to steal, kill, and destroy. Temporary pursuits and false escapes gain priority and life loses purpose. We forget that life is meant to be seized in the now, and each footstep is vital to those to whom we've pledged our sacred trust. 

We don't serve the God of yesterday... it is gone. We don't serve the God of tomorrow... it is only a mirage. We serve the Great I Am. Our quest is today. Forever is here. Ever After has come. Today is the promised moment.

The question is always... will I be the hero or the traitor?

It is time to claim our identity, men. I protect what is mine to hold. There is nothing more precious to me than my family. I thank God that He found me in a moment when I turned my face to Him. He restored my soul. He gave me back my home, my kids, and my wife. He set me on a path that led away from destruction and into a restored sacred path.

The problems of this world are not so complex. Men, we need to live purposeful lives. Lives of intention, days of purpose, words that build, and habits that give life. We need to be accountable to each other and challenge boys to become men. 

I remember the looks of hopelessness from across the room that day I told my family that I was abandoning them. I remember the tears of my mother, and the disappointment in the face of of my father. Those memories now lie in ruin, slain like a fallen dragon by the reality that is now a restored family that shares hope.

Men, there is great value in claiming the role for which we were created. Don't be just a provider, be a husband. Be a father. Be a mentor. Be a king in your life and be the hero in your story. Reclaim the meaning and rediscover the purpose in your today. 

This is how God created you to live. Protect what is yours to hold. Fight.

Never Too Soon for Christmas

"It's a better choice to get the small one, I guess," she said. I responded to my daughter, Aleksandra, "Yeah, you're right, the smaller one is a better choice, but we're going to get the big one!"

We were walking through the Christmas tree display at Walmart with seventy-five dollars worth of gift cards in my pocket, courtesy of the amazing people of Connection Point Church. October has been "Pastor Appreciation Month" and they've been amazing to us.

My wife Kellie mentioned that we should use those gift cards towards the purchase of a tree... and so while she went out to shop with a friend (Hi Lee), Aleks and I sneaked out to see a man about a tree.

The practical thing today would have been to purchase the 6 foot tree because we're renting and we don't know if the house we buy early next year will have tall ceilings. But, we're a family that has long ago said "No" to safe choices. We spent the extra ten bucks and went for the big one. 

And so... I crammed it into the car (requiring multiple door slams) and I single man carried it into the house ("Buddy lifting recommended). Well... we needed to see where we'd put it... and how the furniture would fit... and so now it is Christmas at the Shepherd's the day before Halloween. 

It's kind of upside down here... but then again, we've been watching (binge watching) Stranger Things on Netflix and so we're accustomed to "the upside down."

But... the Kingdom of God is all about turning the world on its end, and well... this adventure just seems appropriate for our family. So, there you have it. 

It's never too soon for Christmas.

Oh yes... I'm a teal and pink unicorn. More on that later...

Growing Up Shepherd's Pie

The way he pronounced the word somehow gave it meaning that I couldn't quite explain, but I knew that I'd never considered. I listened to him intently throughout the week, leaning into his enunciation of a word that somehow was familiar in simplicity, but complex in its revelation. 

Matt was the key speaker for Revive Ohio, Shelby County last week.

During one talk, a tangent thought had him discussing the local fresh baked pies of The Spot, a landmark cafe in Sidney, Ohio. He described the pies in such a way that the speaking of the word made every hearer in the audience want that pie without delay. My mouth watered and I could nearly taste that fresh baked goodness.

There it is... the word... I can allude to it no more... "good."

Clockwise, top to bottom: Krena Mathis Shepherd, Tom Shepherd, Chad P Shepherd
Our family, around 1975

Today this word continued to take my mind hostage as I reflected again on Matt's words. He spoke often of how God intends "good" for us, and I have come to understand more fully the implications of that word. It is good like the delicious aroma of a hot apple pie. It is good in the way that I desire it, it fills me, and it also leaves me wanting for more. It is good from the tip of my tongue to the depths of my being.

It is the good that God spoke of each day of creation. My oh my, there is a calm peace there that runs like deep water... calm, serene, and somehow powerful.

My childhood friend who has become the brother I always sought encouraged me to join him in a trip to visit my (our) parents in South Carolina. We traveled here yesterday, arriving at 12:30 AM to find a Shepherd's Pie awaiting our arrival. I was struck by the parallels to that apple pie... and the apparent goodness that covered this moment.

How is it that I step through life... blind to the goodness that surrounds me? How can I miss the revelation while staring at the familiar? How is it now that I see it is the things that hold us most dear are those blessings that give us the air we breathe?

I am grateful for this time with my parents... it is good. It is good like apple pie. It is familiar and it is an ongoing revelation. I am so happy to be surrounded by their ever-present love. I am grateful today for the conversation, the laughs, and for some thankful tears. I give thanks for the simple... indescribable things of this good life.

For each new morning with its light,

For rest and shelter of the night,

For health and food, for love and friends,

For everything Thy goodness sends. 

― Ralph Waldo Emerson

For further reflection: Philippians 4:8

My Dad Rides a White Horse

This is my dad. He rides a white horse and wears a white hat because he is one of the good guys. He raised me to know that there are both good guys and bad guys in the world, and that I need to know the difference.

I need to know when to stand, when to yield, and when to fight. I have to be discerning and wise in this world. I'm tired of those who claim to be good guys, but are afraid to voice an opinion, stake a claim, or make a judgment call. I'm ready for John Wayne and Ronald Reagan. Let's get this moving.

The world needs good guys. My Dad has always taught me to be truthful, to mean what I say, and to honor my word. He taught me how to shoot and clean a gun, the value of a good set of tools, the importance of honoring our military, and he's taught me how to be a man. A man of integrity, grit, and values. 

I'm so thankful to be one of the good guys. Happy Father's Day, Pappy... the kids say to tell you that they love you too!

The Dam Tour was Sold Out (So we took the Power Plant Tour)

High atop Lake Mead Sterling knew no fear.

Caleb looking out at 8 of the 17 generators that bring power to the surrounding states. Hoover Dam and the Colorado River provide a combination of man-made and natural resources to the surrounding states. 

Paintings by John Rush

Just in case you weren't sure?

The Winged Figures
of the Republic

Lake Mead: created and
sustained by Hoover Dam

Allen True, a Colorado resident and artist, incorporated
Native American concepts into the art deco design.

While not impressed with the glow of Las Vegas, the might
and power of Hoover Dam gained Caleb's approval!

Aleksandra takes a peek over the edge
while her Mammaw Krena shares the moment.

Hoover Dam was a reminder of the might of America in generations past. The quiet splendor of art deco, mighty figures in stone, brass and marble fixtures point to a time when the country celebrated her place in the world.

Nestled into the beauty were also reminders of a nation that was ready to defend itself with soldiers inside the Old Exhibit Building and a high defense post hidden in the mountain face, used during World War 2.

Hoover Dam is an exquisite blend of power, strength, and beauty that represents some of the best qualities of our nation. The 92 men that gave their lives to provide life and power to the west are represented and remembered by the thousands that visit them daily. 

Our nation needs more than technology and entertainment. We would do well to remember the titans of the 20th Century that gave so much. It now falls on the next generation to either continue to defend it, or to allow it to waste away with faux values of apathy and tolerance.

A Grande Shepherd Adventure (The Shepherds Go West)

Outside of Las Vegas, heading towards Arizona, the highways are straight and the land is clear. A turn from the main road found our rented Ford Expedition churning dust and our appetites growling in a desolate little town. The wind moved debris along the sides of the road and I waited to hear the whisp of the wind carry a faint soundscore like a Quentin Tarantino film.

A friendly face met us inside the diner as we relieved the boredom of a teenage girl with a smiling face and hair pulled into a wild ponytail. As we examined the menu of hotdogs done twenty ways, she gave us tips on navigating the Skybridge, our first stop on our trek along the rim of the Grand Canyon. 

Our family learned this week that Caleb is as sure footed as a mountain goat. "Goat" was often seen hoping from rock to rock as we all nervously watched from safe pavement. His feet were sure and he never slipped.

Into the looking glass we looked, the closer to the ledge you stood, the stronger the pull toward the edge seemed to pull at your body. Every direction was sheer wonder.

As soon as I spotted this summit, I knew that "Goat" would have to conquer it... and I knew that I'd follow his footsteps. Sure enough... with a look to his mother, a nod from her (and a quick unspoken glance to me that said, "Go with him") we were off.

Of course... not to be outdone, Aleksandra was with us. With the two of them in the lead and me behind to catch a slipped foot (on my head)... up we went.

The view from the top was unrivaled. We felt like Everest climbers as we surveyed the world from our peak.

After climbing, we were able to see the climb from a distance... our foots stepped where the ravens soared. What a cleansing moment it was of serenity and silence above the fray of the world. How ironic that within the danger of the climb we found a calm, silent embrace of our God.

I am held captive by the ravens. Their size was rivaled by their intelligence on the ground and grace in the sky. I defied park rules and earned the disdaining looks of others as I shared my lunch with this bold bird as he edged closer and closer to my reach. 

Sterling was full on monkey energy at every step. She saw the binoculars around my neck and was thrilled when Kellie found a little red pair at an official gift shop that was sized just for her. I paused with awareness that at five years old, Sterling will remember this trip prominently in her memory for the rest of her life. These are formative days. How amazing that we invest into her in this expansive place. The world is open to this young, inquisitive, bright mind.

Contemplation wasn't isolated to my own mind. I watched them as they watched the world. While they contemplated the landscape, I prayed for their future. Of all the amazing cuts in the earth, I realized that none of it rivaled God's preeminent creation... His children.

(Video... click the photo)

Obligatory selfie and cameo

"Goat in his element."

Sterling... strike a pose. #Vogue

Papaw "Live-Action" #photobomb

Seizing the day

Leo T. and Krena Shepherd, my parents hiking on the mountain edge.

The greatest surprise of this trip was the freezing temperatures. Hollywood had lied to me all of my life... the desert is not always hot! This was our coldest day with temperature reaching below freezing as snow whipped across our faces. Our family, transported from the mission field of Guatemala was not prepared.

Undeterred... we bundled up, soaked up heat like lizards when we found warm places... and continued on this trip of a lifetime. Surely the memories of experiences shared will far outweigh the temporary bite of the wind.

Desert View Watchtower, the memorial site of an airline crash, serves as both a symbol of improved aviation safety and a testament to the beauty of the landscape. 

What a powerful place to close the day. Surrounded by history, both of power, beauty, and pain. Life goes on. We rebuild through desolation. Beauty is enhanced as we celebrate life together. 

Surely... each day provides us both of these things, pain and beauty. Turn your eyes to the horizon.