Reflections

  ​ I’ll admit, when Thanksgiving is over, I somewhat dread Christmas music. “I’m dreaming of a White Christmas”, “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and so many others are played in every restaurant, gas station, and waiting room to the point of overkill.  However, there are two pieces that speak to my heart. “O, Holy Night” and Handel’s “Messiah.” A time of Advent ushers into the heart of a believer, the incarnation of the Christ child.  Recently, a close friend sent me a text and said, “What are you doing tomorrow night? We’d like to give you and Elizabeth a Christmas gift.” They picked us up at 6:30 and took us to Centenary Methodist Church to hear the entire performance of Handel’s Messiah as performed by the Winston Salem Symphony.  Most people are familiar with Part 2, No. 39, The Hallelujah Chorus. As the violins welcome the chorus’ soprano, alto, tenor, and bass singing Hallelujah, they are echoing the scripture found in Revelation 19:6 “ Lord God Omnipotent re...

  I don’t really remember where the love for the field became the stream. As a child, I remember my brother subscribing to the magazine, Field & Stream. I fell in love with the notion of sitting in a cold duck blind either on upland waters or in a 6x8 box on stilts somewhere in the Core or Pamlico Sounds. When my son was too young to remember, I’d haul off to Hyde County which at the time was the eastern flyway mecca of waterfowl. We’d sleep in dives, get up at 4 am, wader up, and walk into impoundments of flooded corn aka cocaine for ducks. Unlike deer hunting, waterfowl hunting is a social sport. As my son, Lewis gained in years, his first love was deer hunting. He reached the local pinnacle of a nice 10-point buck at our family farm. However, as the taxing duties of climbing a deer stand, sitting on a cold seat, still and alone waned, Lewis was introduced to The Duck Commander where he learned the tricks of the duck call and later was led to &saving faith by Phil Roberts...