The Hallelujah Bag

For several weeks Senor Cargador and I have thrown free copies of The Hernando Sun onto driveways around the county.  While we might be in one of three cars, I am usually nondescript, while he looks like something God made after watching a Jeff Dunham special.  We throw because it gets us out of our grandpa caves and gives our bones something to do for at least one day a week.  We’ve discovered that bones, especially the ones in our heads, need something more interesting to do than drinking coffee and mowing the lawn.

The hauntings of 'New House'

My wife finally got her way.  We moved. The living room is bigger, but everything else is the same or less.  It’s missing a bedroom. The previous owner, or the one before that, or the one before, or before that, turned the original back patio into a screened and tented lanai, and now that’s my wife’s art room.  Someone poured a smaller patio next to it, around the side of the house, but I can’t sit out there because her dogs endlessly bark at me through the dark, plastic windows.


We all stand on common ground when it comes to making bad choices and terrible decisions but this does not have to be the end of our story. Missing the mark is common when we give our emotions the power to guide and lead us and we can make a mess out of things in a hurry. However, there is a huge difference between allowing our mistakes to keep us in the bondage of hopelessness and believing that he can save and deliver us.