by Cowboy Bob Sorensen Go down the short hallway, past the bathroom, through the open door of the bedroom. Look behind the door. You see several things such as mostly unused crutches from my knee surgery, a clothes drying rack, two 3-drawer plastic storage units, and more. On top of a storage unit are a pair of pants, a shirt, and shoes. Unpretentious clothes. Charlene had efficiently laid them out so she could use them when she returned from her surgery. She is not coming back for them. Ever. This is being posted four weeks from the day she passed away. My beloved wife's clothes are waiting in vain for her return Most everyone has heard it said that we are not guaranteed tomorrow. In her case, she did not finish "today," the day of her surgery, when she was stricken. In the midst of my bitter tears, I know that she was a child of the living God. When the angel came to escort her to Jesus, Charlene must have been thrilled to be free of a life that had so much physical an
Once again, I was woolgathering while riding. Out Folly Road, past Stinking Lake (not as bad as it sounds), and I decided to head on back. Of a sudden, I noticed a horse under a tree. Heading closer, I saw Lisa Myworries, the Winkie Guards supervisor at the Darwin Ranch sitting there. She beckoned me over and said she needed to talk. Although the Darwin Ranch up yonder by Deception Pass is infested with atheists, she believed in God. Recent creation in six days bothered her. Lisa wondered why biblical creationists have a problem with long ages. The idea of the early chapters of Genesis actually being allegorical or symbolizing long ages is understandable when coming from new Christians, sincerely-questioning unbelievers, and people who have not really thought about the ramifications before. When professing Christians who claim to believe the Bible try to force millions of years into Scripture and compromise with secular concepts, that's a very different matter. Lisa and I had a nic