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Rod Hugen's Posts


They slowly slip away, one by aging one, limping down alone these ancient saints take little with them but simple, godly hearts and tattered memories.  The things they built become decrepit edifices, abandoned now by children’s children and the children after them. Beside decaying paths the old ones slowly fall away.  Soon there is no memory, no recollection they were here.  The world goes sp...

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Cantilevered prayers, desperate floating cries, secure me to a mighty God through Spirit’s groans, bridging to the Maker who weeps of my collapse. Knowing I can’t stand alone, he spans chasm walls, extends the girders, welds beam to beam with an underpinning love  that never lets me go. In the swirling chaos where nothing solid lies, far beneath the seething waves tension and compression war....

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Religion God Accepts

Ruth died. She was my mother’s best friend and the wife of Pete who became something like a dad to us kids after our dad died in 1969. Pete would come over most weekends and do things like fix a leaking faucet or replace a water pump on Mom’s ‘88 Oldsmobile or help Mom with balancing the bank book. It was the stuff of everyday life. Ruth would most often come with him and she and Mom would chat wh...

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Sometimes I’m the ‘clicker’. Somebody has to be the clicker so it might as well be me. The clicker has an important job. It requires some skill. When you’re the clicker timing is everything. You have to be attentive; completely hyper-vigilant. It can be rather exhausting paying that close of attention. It helps to suffer a bit with obsessive compulsive disorder. If you miss a click everything gets...

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Our Neighbor

He owned the backyard. Or at least he thought he did. He wasn’t the nicest of neighbors. He went to war with any intruder daring to enter his property, driving them all away. An obnoxious defender of territory, he never backed down from a fight. He was certain that the beautiful purple desert sage bush at the far corner of the lawn belonged to him, as did the hummingbird feeder dangling from the p...

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The Day Will Come

The clouds go galloping off like Clydesdale plow horses, powerful, majestic, thunderous.  They leave cleansing, cooling rains that wash clean the dimly painted sky.  A million shimmering stars wink against the pristine night, glisten, gleam, and glow, calling to the One they know, telling of His glorious greatness.  In wordless, breathless praise announce the dawning of the day when the light come...

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I grew up on a small 160 acre farm near Pella, Iowa and it was a very different life than living here in the city. It was a life lived with a deep understanding of the natural world and of God and our dependence on him. Farmers are quite attuned to the world around them. They read the skies and recognize the different kinds of clouds and what weather they might bring. They observe when a cow is si...

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The miracle of the Prayer Tub

The prayer tub wasn’t working. It was a couple weeks ago and it just quit. The lovely Mrs. Hugen went out one morning to relax in it only to discover ice cold water and no electrical power to the spa. The Encouraging Discipling Communities conference was fast approaching and I wasn’t able to any longer sit in the spa in the middle of the night and pray because it simply wasn’t working. I checked a...

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Around The Bend

At Vespers one evening Sue prayed at the beginning and mentioned something about God being around the bend and it stuck in my brain. Here is the poem that leaked out… Around The Bend Rodney J. Hugen Just around the bend, only a half turn away, legions of winged ones, mighty warriors all, are poised, hovering, ever attentive, eyes searching, a gesture here, a glance there, readying with bated...

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