Kelly edited the next version saying, “Not your best writing.”

      I rewrote it again and gave it to Carla Bruce, a professional editor. She said, “If it were a chapter in a book, I would tell you to leave it out.”

      The apostle Paul didn’t have editors, or the Bible might be much shorter. But I’m not Paul. A lot of things I say aren’t inspired. I often get upset at myself as I think back on a story I told in a sermon. I need correction to improve, so I listened to Carla, hit my computer backspace button and crumpled the pages into cyberspace.

       Some people say they don’t care what others think about them. I care about what I write and what many people think about me. Once you send a message, you can never take it back.

      So I try to listen to correction in everything.  After years of hacking in golf, I finally started to listen to advice from my friends about my swing. My game didn’t improve until I let good golfers teach me their techniques.

      During one recent round, two of the men I was playing with asked me for my business card so that they can visit our church. That had never happened before. I’m no closer to God and I’m not a better preacher because I shoot in the eighties. I got help with golf because I got tired of failing. Now, two guys want to come to church. What will happen if I get help with important things?

      I was inspired to finish this newsletter as I watched a fire in our fireplace. The flames licked around the logs, releasing the warmth in their embrace. Like sunsets, the brilliance of every fire is unique. The dance of flames is original because logs are arms of trees that each have their own size and shape.

      Honoring a fire with reflection is a habit from my youth. I used to sit in front of our fireplace, staring at the fire and wondering about the meaning of life. I wasn’t sure where I was headed, but I was fascinated by the adventure. Pondering the stars, or meditating on a fire can give a glimpse of eternity.

      When Kristina and I go camping with friends, we sit around the campfire and tell stories. There is a universal ritual of storytelling around campfires. Flames draw out our hearts as we gaze into their dancing light. As the heat caresses us, emotional walls melt and memories emerge.

      We can receive correction through subtle revelation, but most major life changes are made because of painful fiery trials. We try a new approach to life when what we have been doing is not working well. Those who love us rejoice when we grow and change

     If we draw near to God during fiery trials, we may realize the trivial nature of our previous concerns. Prayer brings God’s light and gives perspective on life. The Spirit draws memories from the depths of our hearts, so we can understand and forgive those who have hurt us. Weights we didn’t know we were carrying in our souls can be released in this process.

      It’s cold enough for a fire in the fireplace for only about six weeks each winter in Phoenix. Kristina and I extend the season with our chiminea. This huge clay pot with a chimney and an opening like a mouth, sits on our front patio. We light a fire in it and sit at night warming our bodies and opening our hearts before the flaming pot.

      There is an art to placing the wood just right so a fire kicks in and keeps burning. I take pride in getting it started the first time. I don’t want to use too much kindling, but if I don’t use enough, the fire dies out. There’s also an art to writing. Writers have to get people’s attention and keep it. Now that I’m warmed up, I’ll tell you about a healing in my heart.

      I came home from the office tired and fighting a cold one afternoon and walked into our bedroom to take a nap. I closed the door, but soon heard squeals and a gentle knocking. There is only one person I know who knocks eight inches from the floor. I walked across the room and opened the door. Sitting on the floor was our granddaughter, Ava. She had scooted on her bottom from the kitchen where she had been playing. She wanted me to play with her.

       Ava has been living with us since she was born in November of 2004. Before her birth, many of our friends told me that our coming grandchild was going to be a great blessing. I appreciated their kindness, but I didn’t expect a blessing. I didn’t realize that Ava would become one of my favorite people in the world.

      Soon after Ava’s birth we had trouble with her father. The mediated agreement he and Kelly paid for fell apart. He brought the police to our house twice when they were having custody struggles. The officers warned us not to release Ava without a court order. After he showed up during a church service, I went to court to get a restraining order and retained a lawyer when it was contested.

      Kelly spent thousands of dollars on lawyer bills. We experienced many months of consternation and vexation. Seeing the ladies I love battle fear and anxiety, stirred my anger. It was hard for me to keep a loving heart. When we finally got a court ordered visitation schedule, the fire of trials subsided. By then, I realized Ava had completely captured me with her love.

       Every day I get to watch her experience the adventures of life. She squeals with delight while playing with her toys. She loves to swish a feathered stick back and forth while our kitten, Tully, jumps for the feather. She rolls a ball and Tully runs after it and knocks it back with her paw.

      Ava’s playful spirit and sweet laugh has brightened our home. She helps me understand that the Lord doesn’t look at us with eyes of disappointment; He delights in us because of His great love for us.

      I disciplined our children diligently, but my discipline button now seems broken. My kids were raised on fresh  ground broccoli and health food, but it is hard for a grandpa to be strict about food. Parents love enough to say “no” to their children. They want their children to learn discipline and delayed gratification that builds character. Grandparents love with “yes.” We want our  grandchildren to enjoy life with us right now.

      Ava turned one in November and Kelly invited friends and their babies for a birthday dinner. I walked over to her highchair to join in the singing as her birthday cake was presented to her. When I saw a single candle burning on the cake, I started to say, “Why don’t we invest in some more candles!”

      Then I remembered that she is just one year old. A single candle sums up her whole life. I watch that little candle and mysteries unfold to me. While we have been engaged in our drama, Ava’s weight has tripled and she is learning to talk, walk and feed herself.  Her transformation shows me what is possible for all of us.

       Next year Ava will have two candles on her cake. She is a little light now, but her flame will keep growing until someday the cake will be too small to hold all the candles. By then her grandpa will be with the Lord. I will be someone to tell stories about when she sits before a fire with her friends.

      Our lives are like books with pages that turn with each passing day. We don’t want the story to end, but we can see the book running out of pages. Like logs on a fire, we shed light and release warmth as we are being consumed.

      Frederick Buechner says, “Listen to your life.  Your life is a story and God is speaking to you through it.” Believe what God is saying to you. Remember what is funny and what is true. Then find a way to pass it on. Sharing those treasures gives us a taste of eternal life.

      We all have a spark of divine glory that allows us to bless and inspire others. God’s gift is a flame that allows us to break barriers and penetrate hearts. All the correction we receive and the fires we go through are designed to make that flame burn brighter, so that God’s glory is revealed.

If we draw near to God during fiery trials, we may realize the trivial nature of our previous concerns. Prayer brings God’s light and gives perspective on life. The Spirit draws memories from the depths of our hearts, so we can understand and forgive those who have hurt us. Weights we didn’t know we were carrying in our souls can be released in this process.

      It’s cold enough for a fire in the fireplace for only about six weeks each winter in Phoenix. Kristina and I extend the season with our chiminea. This huge clay pot with a chimney and an opening like a mouth, sits on our front patio. We light a fire in it and sit at night warming our bodies and opening our hearts before the flaming pot.

      There is an art to placing the wood just right so a fire kicks in and keeps burning. I take pride in getting it started the first time. I don’t want to use too much kindling, but if I don’t use enough, the fire dies out. There’s also an art to writing. Writers have to get people’s attention and keep it. Now that I’m warmed up, I’ll tell you about a healing in my heart.

      I came home from the office tired and fighting a cold one afternoon and walked into our bedroom to take a nap. I closed the door, but soon heard squeals and a gentle knocking. There is only one person I know who knocks eight inches from the floor. I walked across the room and opened the door. Sitting on the floor was our granddaughter, Ava. She had scooted on her bottom from the kitchen where she had been playing. She wanted me to play with her.

       Ava has been living with us since she was born in November of 2004. Before her birth, many of our friends told me that our coming grandchild was going to be a great blessing. I appreciated their kindness, but I didn’t expect a blessing. I didn’t realize that Ava would become one of my favorite people in the world.

      Soon after Ava’s birth we had trouble with her father. The mediated agreement he and Kelly paid for fell apart. He brought the police to our house twice when they were having custody struggles. The officers warned us not to release Ava without a court order. After he showed up during a church service, I went to court to get a restraining order and retained a lawyer when it was contested.

      Kelly spent thousands of dollars on lawyer bills. We experienced many months of consternation and vexation. Seeing the ladies I love battle fear and anxiety, stirred my anger. It was hard for me to keep a loving heart. When we finally got a court ordered visitation schedule, the fire of trials subsided. By then, I realized Ava had completely captured me with her love.

       Every day I get to watch her experience the adventures of life. She squeals with delight while playing with her toys. She loves to swish a feathered stick back and forth while our kitten, Tully, jumps for the feather. She rolls a ball and Tully runs after it and knocks it back with her paw.

      Ava’s playful spirit and sweet laugh has brightened our home. She helps me understand that the Lord doesn’t look at us with eyes of disappointment; He delights in us because of His great love for us.

      I disciplined our children diligently, but my discipline button now seems broken. My kids were raised on fresh  ground broccoli and health food, but it is hard for a grandpa to be strict about food. Parents love enough to say “no” to their children. They want their children to learn discipline and delayed gratification that builds character. Grandparents love with “yes.” We want our  grandchildren to enjoy life with us right now.

      Ava turned one in November and Kelly invited friends and their babies for a birthday dinner. I walked over to her highchair to join in the singing as her birthday cake was presented to her. When I saw a single candle burning on the cake, I started to say, “Why don’t we invest in some more candles!”

      Then I remembered that she is just one year old. A single candle sums up her whole life. I watch that little candle and mysteries unfold to me. While we have been engaged in our drama, Ava’s weight has tripled and she is learning to talk, walk and feed herself.  Her transformation shows me what is possible for all of us.

       Next year Ava will have two candles on her cake. She is a little light now, but her flame will keep growing until someday the cake will be too small to hold all the candles. By then her grandpa will be with the Lord. I will be someone to tell stories about when she sits before a fire with her friends.

      Our lives are like books with pages that turn with each passing day. We don’t want the story to end, but we can see the book running out of pages. Like logs on a fire, we shed light and release warmth as we are being consumed.

      Frederick Buechner says, “Listen to your life.  Your life is a story and God is speaking to you through it.” Believe what God is saying to you. Remember what is funny and what is true. Then find a way to pass it on. Sharing those treasures gives us a taste of eternal life.

     We all have a spark of divine glory that allows us to bless and inspire others. God’s gift is a flame that allows us to break barriers and penetrate hearts. All the correction we receive and the fires we go through are designed to make that flame burn brighter, so that God’s glory is revealed.

     Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal among you, which comes upon you for your testing, as though some strange thing were happening to you; but to the degree that you share the sufferings of Christ, keep on rejoicing; so that also at the revelation of His glory, you may rejoice with exultation.  I Peter 4:12-13 NAS ö