
“Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight, At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more, When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death, And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.”

“Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight, At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more, When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death, And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.”

ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©
A bright and wintry morning, the master and his dog,
Trudge through the new white fallen snow, their breath becomes a fog,
The dog park is not far away, but temperatures are cold,
The wind chill makes it feel like it is fifty five below,
Still onward they push forward, both freezing inside and out,
Longing for interaction, but there’s no one else about,
The two of them grew old you see, they cannot walk so far,
Looking at his master he says, “we should’ve taken the car.

I hope the weather will change soon. I hope I can get a job. I hope I don’t have cancer. I hope I can muddle through these last years of life. I hope, I hope, I hope.
I go to a church named Hope. Since we joined there, we’ve seen a few friends pass away. We’ve seen people go through grief, depression, hopelessness, yet we have seen those emotions be overcome through prayer and caring. We’ve seen growth in numbers, we’ve experienced joy, sadness, worry sometimes fears, disagreements, but we all remain committed to hope. In fact we always close our service by reciting the Bible verse, Isaiah 40:31
“Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”
So where does our hope come from? If we look at our world today, it would seem that there isn’t much hope. There’s a negative vibe floating around, trying to convince us that we’re being manipulated – that we’re intolerant – misogynistic – and whatever the flavor of the day happens to be. There is very little focus on the Creator of the Universe. We started as a fledgling nation, with one common goal – to look forward rather than back – to place our hope and dependence in the One who has our lives already planned out.
Somehow, we as Christians seem to be outnumbered. We may feel we’re being persecuted by other religious groups, by radical thinking, by those with no regard to life, by the naysayers who believe the American dream is dead. We may believe we’re in the minority, but are we?
The church is a place where we can renew our strength, through the study of God’s Word. It’s a place where we can share our burdens with one another – where we can rely on emotional support when we’re hurting – where we can become a part of the body of Christ.
The word HOPE is defined by Webster – to cherish a desire with anticipation : to want something to happen or be true. An archaic definition is to trust.
In a way our hope stems from faith in the only One we can trust. Maybe we should revive that archaic definition once more.
When we become hopeless, it leads to depression, which leads to lack of confidence, thoughts of suicide and worse. Hopelessness should not be part of our vocabulary, when we depend on God to lead us. There are way too many – young and old and in between – who feel the pain of hopelessness.
As citizens of this country, we must remain hopeful that our leaders are doing the right thing. That the swamp will be drained and the good will remain. We still have a voice, through our voting and our constant attention to what’s going on in our country. When we see something that isn’t right, we need to contact our representatives. We can complain all we want about the injustices, the slander, the scandal, the corruption, but if we simply complain there is no solution to the problem.
Abraham Lincoln, a most unpopular president when he was in office, rose above it and is today honored for his wisdom and common sense. He had this to say about hope:
“My dream is of a place and a time where America will once again be seen as the last best hope of earth.”
Emily Dickenson had this to say about hope,
“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul – and sings the tunes without the words – and never stops at all.”
Here’s what God says about hope in Romans 15:4
“For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.”
My prayer is that hope never dies. The only way to rekindle the fire is to come back to God and trust in His divine intervention. He is our only hope.
ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©
What once was such a lovely day is coated now with snow,
The temperatures have fallen to zero and below,
We long for what we have not, we wish for better days,
But when it’s cold and wintry, we’re often in a daze,
The whiteness of new fallen snow, the chill that fills the air,
The stress on joints and muscles, we simply do not care,
But then we think of brighter days, when sun lights up the sky,
In our imagination we might think that we can fly,
But for today it’s memories, of what once used to be,
For now it’s covered up with snow and blankets cover me.

OK, I live in Minnesota. Why? Because I’m a glutton for punishment? Because I love extreme temperature changes? Because my hot flashes actually do feel good? There really isn’t a good reason. I live here because I was born here and I will undoubtedly die hear. I have grown accustomed to dressing in layers. Most of the time I’m removing them because of my internal thermostat. I love the change of seasons, unfortunately winter is the longest one and often autumn and spring are overlooked entirely. Still there is the heat and humidity of summer. The brief season of new life in spring, when flowers bud and green is returning to the landscape. The beautiful color pallet of God as He dots the trees with extreme color. And then the winter of our life.
Winter in Minnesota usually arrives anywhere between October and December and stays with us through March and sometimes April. This year we’ve been spared huge amounts of snow, which is a plus for my husband, who has to shovel. We’ve had a few cold days, but nothing bad enough to freeze the pipes, but still cold enough to freeze my car. This week, winter returns with a vengeance. Today we have about 4″ of new fallen, fluffy snow. It’s beautiful. It covers all the ugliness of what lies below. It’s like a fresh coat of paint or a giant white quilt interspersed with diamonds.
Schools have been closed in the area or are running late. The wind is beginning to pick up and is expected to challenge drivers as they travel through blizzard conditions. Not only that, the thermometer may read -12 degrees, but it will feel like -45 to -65 below by tomorrow and remain for a couple days.
I would like to make a pitch for global warming, but it really doesn’t make much sense to me. I believe that God controls the weather as well as our environment. We can mess it up with our misuse of it from time to time, but in the end, God is still in charge. Besides if global warming is actually occurring, I will eventually be living in the garden spot of America, if I live that long.
By Saturday, the temperature is expected to hit +35. Go figure? This is why Minnesotans, Iowans and Wisconsinites are so resilient. We bounce back like a tire that needs inflating because it isn’t used for a while. Which also happened to my car last week.
It’s Monday. I don’t have to drive in this stuff. I don’t have to go to work. I can observe the beauty from my window. I’ve remained relatively healthy this year (I didn’t have a flue shot) and I thank God for giving me another day of life. Can’t get much better than that. Now if I could just train the dog to use the indoor plumbing.
It’s Sunday and the temp is well below zero. Even the dog was hesitant to go outside, but he gave in to nature’s call.
As I waited for him in the cold silence, I took a minute to soak it in. We live right near a busy highway, but there was nary a sound. The cold air pierced my old decrepit lungs as I pulled my jacket collar over my nose. My eyebrows were already getting frosty.
Suddenly, in the frigid air. I could hear the sound of wind chimes, gently clinking. The dog was ready to go in, and my weary body was longing to go back to my nice warm bed, but for one single moment, I experienced the peace of a cold, clear, quiet Sunday morning.
May the peace of God be with you today!

Funny it is not, but food for thought it is.

This is the perfect time of year for a warm piece of pie with a scoop of ice cream on top. Slowly the ice cream melts and cascades over the crisp crust, enticing every taste bud in your mouth. You have the perfect combination, with a taste of heaven thrown in. That is, of course, if you’re not on a diet and it makes no difference at all if you are overloading yourself with carbs and sugar.
You could remove the crust and just eat the innards I suppose, but then you’d need to eliminate all the sugar, which would take care of the innards and the ice cream, so what’s the point? One day a year, we should be able to enjoy a piece of pie, right? I mean they’ve designated a day for just that thing. I think it’s our duty to respect the person who thought it up. That person actually spent some time setting up an actual holiday for just that purpose.
There’s a pie shop in our town, which offers free pie on Wednesdays with the purchase of a meal. This might be just the right time to enjoy the deliciousness. I will go in and have a salad, with no bread, a glass of water and a scrumptious piece of French silk pie for dessert.
This is the mind of me, when I’m on a diet. I try to rationalize all the reasons why I should eat something that isn’t diet worthy. What’s one day going to matter? I can always start again tomorrow. In fact tomorrow is Belly Laugh Day. I’ll bet I can burn off every calorie by laughing my head off.

ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©
(This acrylic painting was done 40 years ago and is part of Paul’s retrospective series. I thought it fit nicely with the recent blood moon from a few days ago.)
Blood moon rises high in the sky, encouraging these birds to fly,
But for a while they wait and rest, for you see they have no nest,
Their home is where they wander, where wetlands call from yonder,
They flap their wings from dusk to dawn and honking is their only song,
They take some time to rest and wait, watching the light of heaven’s gate,
Pausing to enjoy the splendor of what God’s own hand does render.

ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©
As I travel through life’s darkest moments,
When all around me is unfamiliar ground,
When the sound of silence engulfs me.
and pierces the every day sound,
There in the midst of it all,
There with wings unfurled,
With pinions uncut,
With strength and dominion,
He will lift me out of the darkness,
He will protect me from the dangers of life,
He will cover me with His power, strength and love,
I will not fear the terrors of night,
Or the dangers that lie at every corner,
He will comfort my tangled soul,
He will shield me from all harm,
And I will soar with the eagles.

Most of you know my husband, Paul, is an established artist. He’s worked in most mediums throughout his career — Oil, chalk pastel, watercolor, acrylic. He’s also an accomplished sculpter, having done his very first significant piece in granite when he was a Senior in high school. Through his career, he was in the advertising business and created logos and marketing and branding strategies for various companies. He began his own business and it was successful for over twelve years. Art has played a significant part in his life.
What you may not know about this remarkable man, is that he loves nature and the outdoors. From early on, he’s been a natural explorer – learning all the elements of survival in the wilderness – how to start a fire – how to provide food from natural sources. He worked as a naturalist for a few years in one of our county parks.
Paul also wears a lot of different hats when he’s working. For that job, he wore his Indiana Jones hat. As he led children on tours of the park and sighted various birds and signs of animals, the kids would keep their eyes more focused on that hat, than in what he was trying to teach them.
One child asked him if he was Indiana Jones’ father? Another called him Louisiana Jones. Yet another asked him if he was a paleontologist, to which Paul responded, “No, I’m just a dinosaur.”
Isn’t it funny how a hat can make a difference in how people look at us? It also puzzles me how we can form opinions about people based on what they wear or how they look. Looking at things at face value doesn’t give us a really clear picture of the entire situation or the people we meet. We form opinions based on what we see rather than actually getting to know them.
In our world today, we’re given “facts” before they’ve been investigated. A news flash comes across the screen and we naturally want to know what’s up. We want all the details before they even become available and often we’re given those details – true or not. But I digress.
Investigating and discovery are part of who we are. We are naturally curious. As a young girl, I thought it would be great to be an archaeologist, but I had no idea it would require digging and sifting through mounds of sand and dirt. I would have to put myself in danger in order to find some little hint of another civilization. Still I think we all have that inane desire to know what came before us. What were previous cultures like? How did they live, dress, play, educate themselves? What was the government like and what kind of obstacles did they face that we can learn from?
Maybe all the hopes and dreams of the past weren’t really much different than they are today. Politics haven’t really changed in the history of the world. We sometimes think they’ve gotten worse, but there really isn’t anything new under the sun.
So, with all this silly rambling, I will leave you with this thought. Don’t begin writing a blog post without a purpose. Make sure you make a point. Which I didn’t do, but it was fun getting outside the normal box of every day, for just a little while.

ORIGINAL ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©,
Weary of the noise of media attention,
Exhausted by the often untrue claims,
Troubled hearts desire greater intervention,
Longing for refreshment from the flames,
Looking up is what we need for our salvation,
God alone brings peace from all our shames,
Quieting the dissidence and excitation,
Giving love instead of naming names,
Sin no more holds constant consternation,
Through His Son our guilt no longer blames,
He has paid the price of our redemption,
All our fear of death He tames.
ORIGINALLY POSTED 07/07/2016

ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©
Three precious eggs hatch one by one,
The first to arrive receiving the most attention,
Slowly the others burst through their encrusted habitat,
Longing for nourishment.
Clinging to an unstable life,
Tucked into a nest of remnants from the river’s edge,
Soft, yet not completely comfortable,
So do we enter life,
Not knowing what lies ahead,
Not feeling as snug as we did in the womb,
Desiring constant attention and sustenance,
Through it all,
God provides.

For the past week or so, I’ve been doing some research for my series on the missing years of Jesus’ life. It seems that somehow, when I start something like this, I suffer from some seriously bad dreams. Last night was no exception. Without going into detail, I felt the very presence of the devil in those dreams. Eventually I woke up in a cold sweat, with great difficulty breathing and pressure on my chest. I was able to get out of bed and compose myself. At first I thought I was having a heart or asthma attack, but this was a different kind of attack.
I told Beelzebub to get lost and asked Jesus to give me peace. Soon my chest pain left, but I was still filled with a sense of doom. It took a while, but eventually the Lord’s presence filled the room and I was able to fall back to sleep. This morning I woke at peace.
I tend to dream when I’m working on something that requires mental stability and digging into God’s Word. The creative side of my brain seems to work overtime. But the dream got me thinking. Should I continue my research? Should I leave this subject alone? I almost decided to shelf the whole thing, but then I realized I just needed to put on my armor.
Yesterday, while reading David Kitz blog post, I thought about how important it is for us to write our words for God’s glory and not our own. Especially when we’re talking about God. Often the wrong interpretation can be taken. Since I’m relying on God’s Word to direct me, I know He will be with me in the work. Still the enemy would have us believe that what we’re doing is wrong. We are in a battle with the forces of this earth and the one who leads it, but we know truly that God has already won the victory.
“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end, keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints, and also for me, that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains, that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak.”
Ephesians 6:10-20
I will continue to work on this project and you can expect the first installment tomorrow, but for today you must excuse me. I’ve got to get dressed!

The simplicity of the Gospel often boggles the mind. We are expected to believe something extraordinary – inconceivable – impossible. We delude ourselves into thinking there has to be more to it than just a childlike faith, but the truth is that God in His infinite wisdom laid out His plan for humanity so many years ago – simply.
We were created by Him – we need His divine intervention because we were corrupted by the devil – He loves us so much that He came to us in human flesh to teach, admonish and die for us – He rose from death showing His power over it – He returned to heaven to prepare a perfect place for us to spend eternity with Him.
We aren’t used to such an incomprehensible love in our world. Today, everyone seems to be from Missouri and has to be shown before they believe. I guess that’s why God is God and we aren’t.
Too simple, some might say. There has to be more to the story than that. Isn’t there something we should be doing to speed up the process – to help God along with the work that needs to be done – to work our way into heaven?
It’s not about us. It’s about the omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent Creator of heaven and earth. When human reason gets in the way it gets complicated. We cannot even begin to understand what God has in mind for us. All we can do is believe that He has our best interests at heart. He loves us with a love that is beyond our wildest dreams. He designed us perfectly, but because of man’s desire to be on an even keel with Him, reason got in the way of that perfection.
Let’s forget about reason and just accept as children accept what their father tells them is true. God loves us so much that He put Himself in our place to take our sins to the grave. We can now rejoice in His salvation. Because of that truth, we are set free of the bondage of this world and its ugliness. We have the hope of everlasting life with our Creator. Very simple!

Bath time for little ones is a time of great enjoyment, because it means undivided attention from a parent who needs to be on hand to make sure the child is safe. It works that way when an elderly parent needs help bathing too. This very personal time is a way to show compassion for those we care about.
Jesus demonstrated His love for His disciples when He washed their feet. He placed Himself in a position reserved for servants. Can you imagine how much grime a person would pick up walking in sandals through all kinds of filth each day? Streets weren’t paved – they were littered with garbage – cluttered with dirt and animal dung – a breeding place for disease. It was a necessary daily task to clean them thoroughly – getting deep into every nook and cranny and under each toenail.
We are exposed to similar dirt in our lives, but it goes much deeper than a need for surface washing. The only way our sin can be eliminated is through the cleansing that comes from Christ alone. When He washed His disciples’ feet He was demonstrating the internal cleansing He would provide for the entire human race.
When He died for us, the ugliness of sin was washed away. Through this ever so personal act, He also established His bond with us. We now have that perfect relationship with the Father – the one He always intended for us.

ART & POETRY BY PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©
He’s like a whisper on a silent night,
His lofty wings protect me in His sight,
A voice so quiet yet it roars,
My heart ignites, my spirit soars,
He is my strength, my confidence,
Through Him alone lies my defense.
God of Creation, Redeemer mine,
Your power and your majesty divine,
Through your Holy Spirit, my soul has been freed,
You’ve given me more than I ever could need.
The Father of all things now lives in me,
He’s erased all my sin and iniquity,
He leads me and guides me in all of my ways,
His strength gives me courage for all of my days.
My Savior, my Counselor, Redeemer and friend,
When I walk with you, I cannot comprehend,
All the things I can do. For your strength lives in me,
I am blessed by your love. Your grace sets me free.
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Life is a patchwork of moments — laughter, solitude, everyday joys, and quiet aches. Through scribbled stories, I explore travels both far and inward, from sunrise over unfamiliar streets to the comfort of home. This is life as I see it, captured in ink and memory. Stick around; let's wander together.