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Rod Hugen's Posts

Halcyon Days

Halcyon Days  Fresh peach ice cream slow frozen in Uncle Rich’s hand cranked churn.  Lightning bugs dancing around hollyhocks on a gentle summer eve.  The sweet aroma of fresh mown alfalfa wafting in from Mr. Vander Linden’s field.  Barn owls hooting softly as tiny field mice scamper off in every direction.  A million mile moon drifts across the sky between dim clouds and sparkling stars.  Dad whi...

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My sister Ruth’s story…

A blog from my sister, Ruth Valencia. Her story of God’s goodness is a powerful read   On turning 60… I did not really know what to expect for my future. I had dreams, of course, just like everyone else, but I had cerebral palsy so I wondered if I would ever ride a trike and then a bike. I wondered if I would roller skate and jump rope, if I would play volleyball, and because I was tall, bas...

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Code Blue

I’ve very much appreciated Adrienne’s response to ‘writing prompts’. This is a poem I had hoped to offer at Art Night before circumstances conspired against my being able to attend. The poem was written in response to a prompt offered on an online writer’s gathering. The prompt was a picture of a path through interlaced trees creating a canopy. There was bright sunlight at the far end of the path....

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Everyone is afraid…

Everyone is afraid. The people gloving up and masking their faces are often mocked for being afraid. They are afraid. They are afraid for their health. Perhaps afraid of dying. The people demanding to open up the economy and get back to work are also afraid. They are afraid of not being able to provide for their families or of losing their businesses. It’s fear. Just a different fear. Those believ...

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Imagine Fire

Imagine Fire Imagine cleansing flame burning up the dross, purifying perfect gold, until all shimmers in the light of day.    Imagine fiery clarity.  Dazzling diamond facets whose brightly shining cuts pierce the darking clouds  through the dim of twilight.    Imagine glowing embers, luminescent logs, the perfect dying, offering heat and hope in the dark of night. 

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Mt. Lemmon’s Fire

Fire crept down the lofty mountains, lapped up Mt. Lemmon’s piney trees eating at the desert’s gorgeous greenery,  insatiably devouring all it came to see.  The sheriff, knocking on my door, said it had taken sight of me and mine.  That it would soon be time to run,  “You have two hours to collect  the precious things you wish to save.”   It haunts my soul both then and now that in that lonel...

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Time and Distance

TIME AND DISTANCE Uncle John Hugen handed me a Bible. “It was your great grandmother’s. I think you should have it You’ll appreciate it more than most.” Still, it gathers dust up on my bookshelf. In 1620 it was printed in a language. I can’t begin to understand, it becomes a comfortable, sacred relic, an odd connection to some distant past. A memory of a time I didn’t, couldn’t know.  A bespectacl...

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Things I missed…

Sunday was hard. I stayed home from the Village at the Elder’s request. It makes sense. Kathy is at high risk for getting the virus. Patients at the Veterans Hospital are at great risk and she roams all over the hospital. It is a building filled with elderly, immune compromised people. It is good for her to avoid being around lots of people. No one wants to be the person who passes the virus to so...

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Well water…

The only thing left of the farm I grew up on is the well. It is still covered by the piece of cast iron that covered it when I was a kid although the long handled red pump has been replace by an electric one. I think about it every once in a while. There was something wonderful about moving the pump handle up and down until cool clear water came running from the spout. There was an old dented tin ...

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Permanent Grief

There comes a time when grief becomes a way of life. It becomes permanent. A profound sadness envelops me. What I long to have ‘fixed’ remains forever broken. There is no fix. No answer. Obviously, there are moments of rage and anger that point to my demand for solutions and the blocked goals I have that will not be appeased. Those things must be addressed. There are moments when the hurt within t...

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Answered prayers

I pray a lot. I even have a ‘prayer tub’ thanks to the generosity of others. In my old age I’ve come to realize that praying is of primal importance. The more time I spend doing it the better life seems. I love talking with God. I love praying with, and for, others. It’s tiring and sometimes it feels like war, but most of the time I come up on the other side of a prayer time refreshed and renewed....

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Things you probably don’t know about your elderly pastor…

Things you may not know about your elderly pastor: I was once arrested for robbing a Circle K convenience store. Fortunately the store clerk said he didn’t think it was me so they released me.  The first time I was ever in an airplane I parachuted out at 12,500 feet. I didn’t get to wear a flight suit because I was too tall and I had to wear a football helmet from the local high school becaus...

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Saying Goodnight to Derek

Our son, Derek, who lives with us, went to the animal shelter eighteen years ago in order to rescue a couple kittens. The big, beautiful gray and white kitten who ran up and licked his hand when he tried to pet him was a shoo in to come to our home, but so was the tiny frightened black kitty mewling and crying the back corner of the cage. She also won his heart. There is nothing more fun than watc...

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Things that reveal my wife’s awesomeness…

My wife is awesome. Friends of mine on Facebook would know that because I often post things that reveal her awesomeness. Sometimes those things are pointing out the funny and quirky things that she does or says. Sometimes those things show the beautiful ways she engages her family and friends. What you may not know is how much she means to me. What you may not know is how much she loves her family...

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The Saddest Story

What once was verdant green turns fiery orange, crimson red, then slowly browns to death, unties from living bonds, lets go sustaining branches drifts softly to the ground, lies quiet in the darkened mud among those gone before.  All is lost in crumpled mire.  Blades and veins and midribs disappear amid the roots, degrade, decline, decay.  Soon they are no more, just dirt returning ...

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A tribute to a teacher…

He wasn’t my favorite teacher. He was intimidating and a tough grader. For a teenager with the kind of learning disabilities that make it difficult to get assignments done, he was more an arch nemesis than a friend. I was also rather lazy and preferred basketball to conjugating verbs.  I’d heard crazy stories about him from my older sister. She told of how he prowled the aisles between the de...

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