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The Man and The Birds

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As a young man I remember listening to the radio when Paul Harvey would do his exceptional Christmas presentation. One of the most famous stories he would tell is a parable entitled, “The Man and the Birds”. I'm not certain who the original author was, but I would like to share this story with you.

Now the man to whom I’m going to introduce you was not a scrooge, he was a kind, decent, mostly good man. Generous to his family, upright in his dealings with other men, but he just didn’t believe all that incarnation stuff which the Churches proclaim at Christmas time. It just didn’t make sense, and he was too honest to pretend otherwise. He just couldn’t swallow the Jesus story about God coming to earth as a man.

“I’m truly sorry to distress you”, he told his wife, “but I’m not going with you to Church this Christmas eve”. He explained he’d feel like a hypocrite and that he’d much rather just stay at home, but that he would wait up for them. So he stayed and they went to the midnight se…

The Storm

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Let it come.

The high winds, the shrieking banshees from the abyss, and the relentless fury that batters so many into submission.

My strength will never waver.

Even in the face of sheer madness, the soul-sucking blackness, gibbering with insane whispers that freezes the very soul within, I shall not falter.

Let the lashing sky and booming echoes rage around me.

The power of a thousand gods cannot equate to the dynamic concussion that will shake the Heavens. Like the sparks from a mighty forge, the flash of lights, and the killing stoke from the raw energy that pours from the mouth of the tempest, none may stand in the wake of such violence.

The chaos swirls from within.

As if a caged demon is unleashed upon the Earth, the destructiveness and ensuing mindless violence will catch both the guilty and the innocent in its wake. The touch of the madness will leave deep scars upon the soul, and the blatant fickleness of the whimsy, chaotic nature of the beast will bring pause many years to come.

Bri…

The White Wolf - Chapter Two

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"If you haven't read the beginning 
of the story, I suggest you do.   
The White Wolf,
speaks of spirits and strength
 in rugged Northern Canada." - Zz
Chapter Two The minutes seemed like hours. Forcing himself forward, Eric moved like an automaton; jerky, stiff, and shivering from the onset of hypothermia. His mind was a blur as he began rescue efforts. Once they found the flashlight, he examined the cockpit. A survival kit was tucked into the tail of the plane, and it contained a couple of thick blankets, some canned food, and water. Eric carefully crawled into the back of the plane, unbuckled both of his children, and laid them gently on the bottom of the wreck. He spread the blankets over the unconscious body of his son and instructed Kelly to cuddle with him for warmth.
Once his children were somewhat safe, his eyes darted to the front of the cockpit. The dead pilot lay slumped to the side, still belted into his leather seat. Forcing himself to swallow his own reluctan…