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If you enjoy my blog and would like to contact me, you may reach me at this email:

Some of my stories are published in:
A Cup of Comfort Devotional for Mothers and Daughters (Adams Media, 2009)
Chicken Soup: What I Learned from the Dog (2009)
Love is a Flame (Bethany House, 2010)
Extraordinary answers to Prayer (Guideposts, 2010)
Love is a Verb (Bethany House, 2011)
Big Dreams from Small Spaces (Group Publishing, 2012)

Monday, February 25, 2013

Tumble Weed Fort

When I was a child, we lived in a small California town, bordered on the west by the Sacramento river. To the east, just beyond the elementary school, the hills seemed to stretched endlessly. Sometimes sheep grazed the hills. At other times, jack rabbits and kids raced and cavorted through the tall grasses.
In the Spring, winds swept through the grasses, making them undulate like waves of green ocean.
Tumble weeds would roll down and stick to the cyclone fence that marked the border of school property.
One day we kids got a great idea. Why not build a fort out of tumble weeds? They just naturally stick together and you don't need nails or lumber or anything. Yeah. Let's do it.
So we gathered all the prickly bushes and stuck them together to form a u-shaped wall.
Safe and shielded from the cool wind, we played all day inside the secure walls of the tumble-weed fort.
At dinner time, we raced home for hot dogs, baths, and black and white TV.
But we all promised that the next day we'd assemble again at our fort for more Cowboys and Indians.

Right after breakfast, Lori and Royce and I grabbed our jackets We slammed outside the front door, ran down the block, crossed the street, tiptoed through the elementary school, just in case the custodian, Red, was around, then raced to see who could be the first to touch the cyclone fence.
We vaulted over it, then the scanned the horizon for our fort.
It had been about a hundred yards out and a little to the south.
Where was our fort?
Did another gang of kids steal it?
For a minute I was really mad, just thinking about those nasty kids. The nerve of them to take our fort!
Supremely disappointed, we headed home to climb the backyard tree.

Later that day, we told Daddy that some bad kids must've stole our tumble weed fort.
Daddy chuckled.
What's so funny?
"Tumble weeds are made to tumble," he said. "When the wind blows, they tumble and spread their seeds."
Dumb tumble weeds.

I still remember how secure and satisfied I had felt inside our tumble weed fort.
A rock fort would have been much harder to construct.
But the wind wouldn't have scattered it the same night.

God speaks of Himself as a secure fortress.
Behind His walls we are always safe and sheltered.
Sometimes, like children, we misjudge the safety of our man-made shelters.
But we will never be disappointed by the security of God's protection.

"But I will sing of Your strength,
in the morning I will sing of your love;
for you are my fortress,
my refuge in times of trouble.
O my Strength, I sing praise to You;
You, O God, are my fortress, my loving God." (Psalm 59:16, 17 NIV Bible)

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