Reading through the Bible every year has become a welcome discipline. It keeps me reading broadly in Scripture yet allows me to focus on passages God’s Spirit seems to highlight.

What prevents it from becoming merely routine is how frequently I am drawn to the ways in which the narratives of the Old Covenant Scriptures intertwine with those of the New. For instance, this morning I read from Psalm 103, long one of my favorites:

“Bless the Lord my soul, and forget not all his benefits—who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love. …He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever; he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us. As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust. The life of mortals is like grass, they flourish like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more. But from everlasting to everlasting the Lord's love is with those who fear him, and his righteousness with their children's children…” (Psalm 103:2-4; 9-17).

(Just as an aside, I greatly prefer how the old KJV and the ESV renders the first word: “Bless the Lord…” )

These verses impact me viscerally. God’s compassion and grace are so great that he doesn’t give me what I deserve. As the recipient of the Gospel, I have the further understanding that this grace is poured out upon me by the good gift of Jesus secured on the cross. Jesus took what I deserve to give me what I do not.

Reading these words this morning was a fresh reminder of God’s extravagant goodness.

And then I read from my New Testament:

“Then I saw a great white throne and him who was seated on it. The earth and the heavens fled from his presence, and there was no place for them. And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Another book was opened, which is the book of life. The dead were judged according to what they had done as recorded in the books. The sea gave up the dead that were in it, and death and Hades gave up the dead that were in them, and each person was judged according to what they had done. Then death and Hades were thrown into the lake of fire. The lake of fire is the second death. Anyone whose name was not found written in the book of life was thrown into the lake of fire” (Revelation 20:11-15).

The day will come when God gives people what they do deserve, and it’s horrific! If it were not for the grace of Christ on my behalf, I would get this. I deserve this: eternal condemnation in the Lake of fire prepared for Satan and his angels.

This is a sober reminder of how serious and grievous is my guilt before a holy God. Left to myself, my self-will and rebellious heart consistently acted in defiance of God’s desires for me. I did what I wanted in so far as I thought I could get away with it.

But God, who is rich in mercy, intervened in spite of myself and called me to himself.

“Jesus sought me when a stranger
Wandering from the fold of God.
He, to rescue me from danger
Interposed His precious blood.”

So I am thankful that in Jesus Christ, God doesn’t treat me as my sins deserve or repay me according to my iniquities. All the benefits and encouragements in Psalm 103 are turned fully to my own soul by the goodness and grace of Christ.

Bless the Lord, O my soul. Amen and Amen.

The fog this morning was an invitation to get out and shoot some fall color. The light was incredible. I had visited these roads west of Concord earlier a few weeks ago when the color was just coming on and was eager to revisit them. They did not disappoint.

A farmstead

 These next two shots were taken from the same location.

One of my two favorite shots from this morning.

Someone's driveway—pretty now but when the snow flies…!

This is the other favorite.

On the way back I stopped just outside Spring Arbor to see if I could get a critter picture. I've admired these longhorns from the road and finally got a shot of this…cow? Cows have long horns?

This kitten came over to see what was going on so I'll leave you with this bit of fuzzy cuteness.

I never liked my name.

My parents named me for both of my grandfathers, as my father’s parents had named him for his. Leo Wilfred—antique names both of them, neither of them cool or trendy. Just odd.

Leo, my mother’s father, left me a dishonorable heritage. He died in a coal mining accident when my mother was eight years old. He was, as I have been told, a ne’re-do-well (to use the old word). He drank his paycheck, abused his family, was unfaithful to his wife, my grandmother Mimi. He died, it seems, to no one’s regret. After he died, his family treated my grandmother and her four children shabbily, helping them with nothing even though Mimi's in-laws had some means. This was in the heart of The Great Depression and it caused considerable distress.

I bear his name and I have the flag given his wife "On behalf of a grateful nation." He served honorably, it seems, in WWI.

I had little to like about my name. It’s what I’m stuck with and known by, but it never defined me, even though its oddness somewhat shaped me.

This morning I was reading from Revelation 5. John sees God, seated on his throne holding a book sealed with seven seals. A powerful angel cries out: “Who is worthy to break the seals and open the scroll?” John wept because “…no one in heaven or on earth or under the earth could open the scroll or even look inside it.”

Then one of the elders encouraged John to stop crying with these words: “See, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has triumphed.”

The Greek word for Lion is leon (pronounced le'-own). It comes to us in English both as lion and as the derivative of several proper names including Leo—my name.

I’ve always known this, but this morning it touched a deeper part of me. When God drew me to himself and made me his child, he gave me a new identity, marking me with his name. We bear the name Christian, a Christ-one. We are called by his name. And in eternity, in the New Jerusalem, John tells us: “No longer will there be any curse. The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and his servants will serve him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads” (Rev 22:3-4).

[A caveat here: This is a liberty with the text. This is a purely subjective reflection, a devotional reading not directly connected with the meaning John intended to convey. John saw Jesus as the Lion who is the Lamb.]

But I bear his leonine name: He is the Lion of the tribe of Judah.” I have the honor of bearing an identity of Jesus. He is the Great Lion. I am a cub, so to speak. But I am his and I bear that name.

And, like all who follow Jesus,I am called to be like him. This morning that took on a particular emphasis, to be leonine—more like Jesus and less like my human namesake.

Home again, home again…! Now lots of redoing on the big screen. Some of my laptop work is just fine but I have a number of images that want some retouching.

It's fun to capture the big images, but we were also looking for what I call "smalls," little bits of details that we seldom notice while trying to capture the big picture. Here's a few from the trip.

This snowshoe hare is really quite large but in the grand scheme of things like to look small. Notice the size of the hind feet. thus the name.

Some romantic left this on the beach at Whitefish point.

Chains at the Coast Guard Station at Whitefish Point. These links are actually each about 4 inches long.

A rock found it's way to a ledge beside Sable Falls.

We took a side trip down a two-track and found only these.

Old rusty cable and beach detritus.

An old, deteriorating log exposed to the elements.

OK, some of this is weird. I get that. You should see the ones I threw away. It's all part of the mix I love about photography.

We ran the weather gamut today. A promising sunrise got smothered in clouds. We had sleet, rain clouds, bits of blue sky and everything cold! We hiked about five miles to a variety of falls and got a few promising shots. So we're back processing a few images and packing up for the trip back tomorrow.

Munising Falls

We saw lots of red leaves that fell in inconspicuous places. This one was on a rock in the middle of the stream.

Miner's Falls

On the trail to Miner's Falls

Miner's Castle—we got a few good shots in spite of the weather.

s

Mosquito Falls

Detail

Charming little stream feeding into Wagner Creek

Wagner Creek Falls

Little Alger Falls just south of Munising.

Sunset sky as we went into the Dogpatch Restaurant for dinner. Great crispy fried chicken. Comfort food after a long day!

When I get home I'll download everything and then pick the keepers for a final edit. It's been a fun trip. Nothing but shoot pictures, process pictures, eat and sleep.

Steve Warner and I are on a photo trip in the UP of Michigan hoping to catch the fall colors. Today we traveled from Paradise to Munising—on back roads of course. No freeways up here. The sky was gray again but we did run across some grouse along side the road. They weren't exactly tame. Maybe just stupid. In any case, we got close.

Capturing these birds takes stealth and cunning—and a little foolishness on our own part.

 

We passed by an apple orchard and since Steve wanted some apple pictures, shot these through the deer fence.

Honey Crisp!

While we were shooting, the owner of the orchard came up and started talking with us. He was picking a batch for the farmers market that day in Munising. Meet Jerry, a genuine character. Jerry kindly gave each of us a fresh apple and lots of chat.

We took a side trip at Seney to visit the Seney Wildlife refuge. We missed our best shot at the station, but did see these swans cross a berm.

A stop at Sable Falls yielded these:

These were on the opposite bank of the river plaster against this clay or sandstone face.

An orange rock at the beach.

One more stop for some birches along the roadside.

Then on into town, check in, download today's images, eat, process a few, the off to bed. Tomorrow we do Pictured Rocks, Lord willing and weather permitting.