Appalachian summer-Alaskan spring

Yesterday morning I left the sultry 96 degree air of Atlanta at 7 am on Delta and woke up this morning to 46 damp, overcast degrees on the shores of a river delta near Bristol Bay, Alaska. It has been a cool spring in the mountains of Georgia but summer came in with a dry, desert-wind vengeance, drying out the grass, raising clouds of dust and pollen in the heat waves. It is more than a little disturbing to see it so dry and hot so soon. Here in Alaska, spring has been slow in coming, the herring spawning late and now the salmon run late. There is not much green here yet and the willows still have buds. I am taking a break from the chaos of the last few months and spending a week here with Rick at the plant between fish runs while Fern holds the fort at home. I wanted to come and didn't all at the same time. At 3 am on Monday when I was preparing to leave I almost chickened out as I walked Jackson around the yard and thought of all the things I hadn't thought of to tell Fern. As usual, feeling my self indispensable, I thought"I can't leave them to deal with all of this!" I got a grip, reminded myself that I could let go to someone else without the world coming to an end and, besides, I hadn't exactly been doing such a great job anyway. I was, and am, in need of rest, brain clearing, peace and quiet rest.
The month of May was once again a painful reminder of loss on the anniversary of Wallace's death, always an occasion for the devil's attacks of fear and sadness, this time with the added twist of my half-century year old mark and a feeling of helplessness in the face of the problems my children face as they reach adolescence and struggle with the damage from their past families. It was also a time for God to break through in some amazing ways for me. Through a series of interconnected events, God brought me, my brother and some friends some very good news, really the Good News of the Gospel in a new and magnified form through a book called Waking the Dead by a man named John Eldredge ( htt:p//ransomedheart.com ). It was not a string of coincidental events but a carefully orchestrated answer to our prayers from a God that comes through and shines in our darkest hour. In a nutshell the book, and several others by the same author,
reminded me that we are in a world at war, a war for our hearts. That, like in all the great stories, there is an evil force (the devil and his demons) that want revenge on God by destroying His creation and making the objects of His love (us) miserable and telling us lies about ourselves and God. When we realize what is going on, focus on The Truth about God and what He has to say about us and our relationship to Him, we see the world and ourselves in a different way. We can stop listening to the lies of the devil and begin to live as who we are, true flesh and blood of God through Jesus Christ, redeemed, adopted sons, not servants or slaves but children of God in a world that is in rebellion against our Father. We know the end of the story, we know that we win and in the mean time we live like who we are, with full confidence in that, seeing the blows that come against us as attacks of the enemy. But also attacks that are not ignored by our Father, ones that He allows because we are at war, that He strengthens us to bear and waits to see if our hearts will continue to trust Him. It has been a breath of fresh are, a ray of hope, in a long tunnel of darkness.
So here I am, in the quiet, desert place to rest for a few days. The boys are at scout camp, hopefully learning to be men in the wild. Fern is practicing patience and endurance and , along with Maria and Aaron, celebrating Alina's 6th birthday today. Cori, Nick and Peter are enjoying the beach. The beginning of a summer to remember, hopefully for good times and battles won...