The Innocence of Father Brown
by GK Chesterton
The Father Brown mysteries are a set of detective series by G.K. Chesterton. He was president of a mystery writers club. Although he claims to have had some differences with the style of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in Sherlock Holmes, in my estimation he shared some of the same style. Chesterton's gift for "turning things inside out" propels his mystery stories to very involved, surprising, and fulfilling plots.
In The Innocence of Father Brown, each chapter is a complete story, the only continuing elements being the 2 main characters, and of course, Chesterton's singular style.
To summarize, Father Brown, a Catholic Priest, is gifted with uncommon powers of observation, deduction, and inference. Combined with a raw knowledge of human nature, primarily gained through his profession, these gifts make Father Brown the most powerful and successful "detective" of his time. Nearly all the stories in this book involve a man named Flambeau, first as an adversary, then as a friend and colleague. (Curious? Read the book.)
If you like detective stories; if you like lots of surprises, multiple explanations, and false accusations before the truth comes out; if you like to not know what's coming, read all of GK Chesterton's mysteries. I recommend them.
Free Text:
http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/204
Free Audio:
http://librivox.org/the-innocence-of-father-brown-by-g-k-chesterton/
Monday, September 28, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Essays by Francis Bacon
Finished reading the Essays of Francis Bacon. The book has some merit, but it is certainly not on my list of things to read often. Francis Bacon was a Englishman, a scientist, and an Anglican Christian. Apparently, he was well-versed in a number of other areas as well, as is evidenced in Essays. Further research points out that he was an "English philosopher, statesman, scientist, lawyer, jurist, and author. He served both as Attorney General and Lord Chancellor of England." 1
The essays deal a lot with politics, business, and society (all in a European Parliamentary Monarchy setting). The chief merit of the essays is their deep insights, explanation, directions, advice, teaching and directives to those who are involved in high-level society. The wisdom comes in a level, non-partisan way that reveals a deep knowledge of how things are, and how to best succeed in that reality. Bacon was either a very high-class figure, or had studied high society and gained real insight. The style is direct, not open for discussion, but backed up by reasons and example. The writing betrays much study and comprehensive knowledge. I was particularly amazed at his detailed discussion of a state garden, and the way horticulture "ought to be."
One challenge for the modern reader is this: Though the main text is in English, Bacon includes a fair amount of Latin, which was not translated. As he does not often explain, the reader may sometimes feel that the most important message is lost because of this language barrier. In defense of the text, most readers from this time period had a full textual understanding of Latin, and this linguistic change would have added distinct emphasis and authority to each point.
For most people, this would not be an enjoyable book. I found myself only part liking it.
If you are in (or contemplating) business or politics, I would recommend this book for serious study. Treat it not as an easy read, but as a textbook. Each essay forms a lesson inviting study, remuneration, experiment, and application. Remember the difference in audience and application; take what's helpful and leave the rest.
They are Public Domain now, and can be accessed for free here:
http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/575
http://www.westegg.com/bacon/index.essays.html
1: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francis_Bacon
The essays deal a lot with politics, business, and society (all in a European Parliamentary Monarchy setting). The chief merit of the essays is their deep insights, explanation, directions, advice, teaching and directives to those who are involved in high-level society. The wisdom comes in a level, non-partisan way that reveals a deep knowledge of how things are, and how to best succeed in that reality. Bacon was either a very high-class figure, or had studied high society and gained real insight. The style is direct, not open for discussion, but backed up by reasons and example. The writing betrays much study and comprehensive knowledge. I was particularly amazed at his detailed discussion of a state garden, and the way horticulture "ought to be."
One challenge for the modern reader is this: Though the main text is in English, Bacon includes a fair amount of Latin, which was not translated. As he does not often explain, the reader may sometimes feel that the most important message is lost because of this language barrier. In defense of the text, most readers from this time period had a full textual understanding of Latin, and this linguistic change would have added distinct emphasis and authority to each point.
For most people, this would not be an enjoyable book. I found myself only part liking it.
If you are in (or contemplating) business or politics, I would recommend this book for serious study. Treat it not as an easy read, but as a textbook. Each essay forms a lesson inviting study, remuneration, experiment, and application. Remember the difference in audience and application; take what's helpful and leave the rest.
They are Public Domain now, and can be accessed for free here:
http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/575
http://www.westegg.com/bacon/index.essays.html
1: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francis_Bacon
Monday, September 21, 2009
The Drive Down Home (Travelogue 09/16-18/09, Day 3)
09/18/09
I slept in, partly to recoup more of Tuesday night's lost time, and partly to continue restoring rest to my mind and body. Made short work of preparing for the day, and was presently on my way. I chose to travel a new route. A rumor that the route was shorter accompanied an adventurous and exploring whim. The rumor proved quite false, adding about 30 minutes to travel the same distance. But the whim was well-satisfied. The route proved to be very lovely and inspiring. My only real regret is that I had no camera, for often I wished one.
The day was pleasant enough for travel, but as I descended from the cool altitudes, the beading sweat encouraged me to close my window and switch to A/C. The first 2 quarters of the trip were spent relatively quietly, without music or audio book, and the only conversation being with myself (naturally) and with God (graciously).
Following, I began The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin, a book which promises to be very good, inspiring, and thought-provoking. It requires attention and repose for thought, and thus makes an excellent book for travel. I may wish to have it in hard copy for the purpose of real study.
Alternating, I took in some mysteries by GK Chesterton, finishing "The Innocence of Father Brown," of which I will write shortly.
And so it was that I came safely back to my home.
Editor's Note: This is an incomplete version of this blog.
I slept in, partly to recoup more of Tuesday night's lost time, and partly to continue restoring rest to my mind and body. Made short work of preparing for the day, and was presently on my way. I chose to travel a new route. A rumor that the route was shorter accompanied an adventurous and exploring whim. The rumor proved quite false, adding about 30 minutes to travel the same distance. But the whim was well-satisfied. The route proved to be very lovely and inspiring. My only real regret is that I had no camera, for often I wished one.
The day was pleasant enough for travel, but as I descended from the cool altitudes, the beading sweat encouraged me to close my window and switch to A/C. The first 2 quarters of the trip were spent relatively quietly, without music or audio book, and the only conversation being with myself (naturally) and with God (graciously).
Following, I began The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin, a book which promises to be very good, inspiring, and thought-provoking. It requires attention and repose for thought, and thus makes an excellent book for travel. I may wish to have it in hard copy for the purpose of real study.
Alternating, I took in some mysteries by GK Chesterton, finishing "The Innocence of Father Brown," of which I will write shortly.
And so it was that I came safely back to my home.
Editor's Note: This is an incomplete version of this blog.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
On a Rock Near the Top of the World (Travelogue 09/16-18/09, Day 2)
I slept in (which contributes to a non-thinking day), and did not rush to get ready. Took care of some small business (completing Tuesday's project). Then I went to Cooper's Rock State Park. Kisners recommended it to me when I told them I was looking for a place I could be alone and have a great view. Cooper's Rock is a place where I could spent a lot of time. For those of you familiar with Red River Gorge, think taller, less cliffy, and a whole lot more huge granite rocks. The main overlook was way too populated for me. The social PR side of me is still too close at hand, and I had conversations with about 8 people before I went to a different trail. So, packing the essentials (such as a laptop and cell phone), I headed to Raven's Rock. I had to hike almost 2 miles to get away from people, but it was definitely worth it. The view was great, and the solitude was superb. It would be something like Battleship rock at Natural Bridge, but again, much higher. I could see for miles and miles. I spent several hours there, and enjoyed it very much.
This evening, I had dinner with Kisners, then a meeting (did I mention I have a tendency to do this wherever I go?). It had been nice, and (for the most part) real, vacation. I am not yet fully recovered, but we're making progress.
What on earth does "spect" mean?
I suspect a prospect, and therefore expect respect and inspect one aspect. Perhaps I'm too introspective?
Why don't we conspect, unispect, omnispect, prespect, postspect, unspect and despect?
http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/specio#Verb
"Hugh, why do you hew with an axe of that hue?"
"I knew gnu weren't new."
Editor's note: This is an incomplete version of this blog.
This evening, I had dinner with Kisners, then a meeting (did I mention I have a tendency to do this wherever I go?). It had been nice, and (for the most part) real, vacation. I am not yet fully recovered, but we're making progress.
What on earth does "spect" mean?
I suspect a prospect, and therefore expect respect and inspect one aspect. Perhaps I'm too introspective?
Why don't we conspect, unispect, omnispect, prespect, postspect, unspect and despect?
http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/specio#Verb
"Hugh, why do you hew with an axe of that hue?"
"I knew gnu weren't new."
Editor's note: This is an incomplete version of this blog.
Driven by Death; Vacation Begins (Travelogue 09/16-18/09, Day 1)
09/16/09
"I press on, guided not by an inner light;
not by vision or by sight,
but following the trail --
cut and marked
by men who have gone before me."
All of humanity seems to be swallowed up in one attitude:
"We are human, and we are gods."
I readily repeat the speech, but rewrite the sentence:
"We are human, and we are God's."
Driven by Death
Up at 5:15am, left around 6:30am. True to form (and amazing that such a long journey consistently returns such scientific exactness), just inside of 6 hours, I was at my destination. Greatly aided by a lack of sleep (I netted about 4 hrs), mixed with long-term exhaustion compounded by recent inactivity, the trip was largely uneventful, thoughtless, and mellow. A book of Scripture, a few good mysteries, and some high-society essays by Francis Bacon carried the otherwise silent and mentally spastic trip. The trip was prompted by death, as I return to pay honor and my respects. Berlin Wilhelm, founder of Aldersgate Camp, and a man I rapidly learned to love, admire, and respect.
"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints." (Psalm 116:15)
It is a blessing to attend the funeral service of one whose heavenly destiny is unquestioned by all. In a real sense, sorrow was supplanted by rejoicing.
Thoughts Upon Death
Those who pass on before us have somewhat of an advantage over us. Their race is complete; their journey is done. They have nothing left to fear or face in this unforgiving world. They have survived; they are saved. They have faced their trials and agonies, and they are done.
We are those who are left to face the uncertain future. It is we who must peer trembling into the fear of the unknown. We are left to face the enemy, trials, calamities, disasters, woes, and persecutions. They won. Will we?
King Solomon said in the book of Ecclesiastes, "It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart. Sorrow is better than laughter: for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth." (Ecc 7:2-4)
I say, live close to life. Be present always in the house of death and mourning, for it is man's end. We will all conclude there, and that on level ground. It puts one's life into rapid perspective, for all our works will be tested by fire (1 Cor 3:13). It is the face of the end.
But lest one be torn down and become useless by never-ending introspection and nagging despair, let him frequent the place of new birth. For it provides hope and joy. Fresh life has come, with new hopes, new dreams, new energy and vision. As death takes away, so God gives more. Let one visit the tabernacle of marriage, for it is the joining of lives, of joy, happiness, and promise. It is a place of dedication, and a level, firm, and resolute challenge to life. Know well the place of sickness and of tragedy, for reflection, a new perspective, and loving care are sure to result. Never get so absorbed in the man-made world that you forget our beginnings and our endings. Live close to life.
After the Funeral
After the funeral, I attended the committal, and the dinner following. Public Relations must have stowed itself away in my backseat, for it met me there, and we spent significant time together. I did have the pleasure of visiting with friends, some of whom I have not seen in some time.
And Then to a Swamp
Later, indulging a desire for solitude, quiet, and adventure, I ventured to what is known as the Cranesville Swamp -- a habitat preserve. Whatever would possess a man to go traipsing about a bog, still in formal attire, I can only conjecture. This I do know -- it happened, and was no worse for the wear. (On a slightly more practical note, the mountains of West Virginia are already quite cool at this point of September, and as I had neglected to pack a jacket, the formal coat suited me nicely [no pun intended]. I never even broke a sweat, which is much more than could be said for the funeral chapel.) The place was wonderfully still and quiet, where every sound dropped dead on the soft ground. The cool cloudy weather produced a singularly morosive effect, and much to my delight, kept the mosquitoes down a bit as well (I have killed more while sitting here writing this than I saw in the swamp). The flora is somewhat artificial, as evidenced by the expansive rows of tall, straight pines; and yet unnervingly unnatural, as demonstrated by the short, scrubby trees and bushes in the marsh, and the variety of strange plants, tinged with dull, but uncommon color. All was short and stunted, as though struck by an early frost, and seemed to hover above the surface of the stagnant, stinking water. The forest floor (at the side of the swamp) appeared to have years of needles all piled into a thick soft bed, yet not decaying, as though they had been frozen when once they hit the ground. The dry peat of the swamp path also gave the same effect, softly cushioning each step, but strong and binding if one tried to dig in it.
Evaluating Vacation
Today is day 1 of vacation, and it has placed me in touch with life, with death, with feeling and impression, and put me again back to the elementary principles. It has also made me to see humanity as people; each one as a real person, and I wish for God to reach them all.
(Editor's note: This is the incomplete version of this blog)
"I press on, guided not by an inner light;
not by vision or by sight,
but following the trail --
cut and marked
by men who have gone before me."
All of humanity seems to be swallowed up in one attitude:
"We are human, and we are gods."
I readily repeat the speech, but rewrite the sentence:
"We are human, and we are God's."
Driven by Death
Up at 5:15am, left around 6:30am. True to form (and amazing that such a long journey consistently returns such scientific exactness), just inside of 6 hours, I was at my destination. Greatly aided by a lack of sleep (I netted about 4 hrs), mixed with long-term exhaustion compounded by recent inactivity, the trip was largely uneventful, thoughtless, and mellow. A book of Scripture, a few good mysteries, and some high-society essays by Francis Bacon carried the otherwise silent and mentally spastic trip. The trip was prompted by death, as I return to pay honor and my respects. Berlin Wilhelm, founder of Aldersgate Camp, and a man I rapidly learned to love, admire, and respect.
"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints." (Psalm 116:15)
It is a blessing to attend the funeral service of one whose heavenly destiny is unquestioned by all. In a real sense, sorrow was supplanted by rejoicing.
Thoughts Upon Death
Those who pass on before us have somewhat of an advantage over us. Their race is complete; their journey is done. They have nothing left to fear or face in this unforgiving world. They have survived; they are saved. They have faced their trials and agonies, and they are done.
We are those who are left to face the uncertain future. It is we who must peer trembling into the fear of the unknown. We are left to face the enemy, trials, calamities, disasters, woes, and persecutions. They won. Will we?
King Solomon said in the book of Ecclesiastes, "It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart. Sorrow is better than laughter: for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth." (Ecc 7:2-4)
I say, live close to life. Be present always in the house of death and mourning, for it is man's end. We will all conclude there, and that on level ground. It puts one's life into rapid perspective, for all our works will be tested by fire (1 Cor 3:13). It is the face of the end.
But lest one be torn down and become useless by never-ending introspection and nagging despair, let him frequent the place of new birth. For it provides hope and joy. Fresh life has come, with new hopes, new dreams, new energy and vision. As death takes away, so God gives more. Let one visit the tabernacle of marriage, for it is the joining of lives, of joy, happiness, and promise. It is a place of dedication, and a level, firm, and resolute challenge to life. Know well the place of sickness and of tragedy, for reflection, a new perspective, and loving care are sure to result. Never get so absorbed in the man-made world that you forget our beginnings and our endings. Live close to life.
After the Funeral
After the funeral, I attended the committal, and the dinner following. Public Relations must have stowed itself away in my backseat, for it met me there, and we spent significant time together. I did have the pleasure of visiting with friends, some of whom I have not seen in some time.
And Then to a Swamp
Later, indulging a desire for solitude, quiet, and adventure, I ventured to what is known as the Cranesville Swamp -- a habitat preserve. Whatever would possess a man to go traipsing about a bog, still in formal attire, I can only conjecture. This I do know -- it happened, and was no worse for the wear. (On a slightly more practical note, the mountains of West Virginia are already quite cool at this point of September, and as I had neglected to pack a jacket, the formal coat suited me nicely [no pun intended]. I never even broke a sweat, which is much more than could be said for the funeral chapel.) The place was wonderfully still and quiet, where every sound dropped dead on the soft ground. The cool cloudy weather produced a singularly morosive effect, and much to my delight, kept the mosquitoes down a bit as well (I have killed more while sitting here writing this than I saw in the swamp). The flora is somewhat artificial, as evidenced by the expansive rows of tall, straight pines; and yet unnervingly unnatural, as demonstrated by the short, scrubby trees and bushes in the marsh, and the variety of strange plants, tinged with dull, but uncommon color. All was short and stunted, as though struck by an early frost, and seemed to hover above the surface of the stagnant, stinking water. The forest floor (at the side of the swamp) appeared to have years of needles all piled into a thick soft bed, yet not decaying, as though they had been frozen when once they hit the ground. The dry peat of the swamp path also gave the same effect, softly cushioning each step, but strong and binding if one tried to dig in it.
Evaluating Vacation
Today is day 1 of vacation, and it has placed me in touch with life, with death, with feeling and impression, and put me again back to the elementary principles. It has also made me to see humanity as people; each one as a real person, and I wish for God to reach them all.
(Editor's note: This is the incomplete version of this blog)
Monday, September 14, 2009
The Pilgrim's Regress
Finished reading "The Pilgrim's Regress" by C.S. Lewis tonight.
I really enjoyed the book, and highly recommend it.
It's one person's progression of thoughts and beliefs throughout life, in an allegory form. If you liked Pilgrim's Progress, if you like philosophy, if you like the study of thought, if you like Lewis, if you like to think about life, I think you would like this book.
I agree with Lewis that in general, it was unnecessarily obscure. But it didn't do very much damage to the message.
For those who have read it:
I was struck --finally-- by an understanding of Sweet Desire (I did not grasp the concept until he explained it in the Afterword). When I got it -- Wow -- Everything in life points to God. Anything that calls to us, producing a desire, but then never delivers, points to the greatest desire Fulfiller of all. God has put a longing in our hearts for Himself and for heaven, and it is evidenced everywhere. The far hill that calls to be explored leaves you yearning for the next hill when you arrive. The call of the sea is never abated, for the sea flows on. The call of the wild is not satisfied by your arrival. The desire for love and security is never fully met in humans alone. The desire to be right is never fully achieved. "There's gotta be something more." Every desire we experience points us to God. I knew, somehow, down in my heart, that my desire to hike, adventure, and explore turns my heart toward God. The two are kin. But I hadn't ever seen it in this light. Sweet Desire draws us to God.
I find myself a pretty strong "Northerner." Lewis states in the Afterword that [for a Southerner] "every feeling is justified by the mere fact that it is felt: for a Northerner, ever feeling on the same ground is suspect." (p. 206) Indeed, I find that when a feeling (often, any feeling) arises that calls for emotional reaction, the ready solution is to whip it and beat it until it is gone. Discipline, dedication, and defiance are the ready men-at-arms. "Weakness," potential instability, and an open heart can easily be crushed into subjection. I think at some points in my travels, I have seen Mania in the distance.
God, would that you send Vertue south to catch fire!
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
In The Image of His Holiness
I was struck with a new thought tonight. Often, I view God's work too small. I still think like a native, instead of the alien that I am. God should be involved in so much more than we often think.
Perhaps God was asking me to consider this tonight --
God is holy. I have been redeemed though the blood of His Son, and He has called me to be holy. I know that my life is to reflect God's holiness.
By this I understand that it's even bigger than that. My spirit, my attitudes, my life, my actions, the way I live, the way I talk should all reflect the image of His holiness.
What if my room is to reflect the image of God's holiness? What would that look like?
What if my office was to reflect the image of God's holiness? What would that look like?
What if the way I dress was to reflect the image of God's holiness? What would that look like?
What if my notebooks were to reflect the image of God's holiness? What would that look like?
What if my car was to reflect the image of God's holiness? What would that look like?
I had never thought about some of these little areas of my life before. Should they be object lessons that point to a holy God? It was the thought of my car that struck me tonight. My car should reflect the image of God's holiness? Wow, time to make some changes!
"Lord, may I reflect the image of Your holiness. Help me to understand that every part of my life -- large or small -- has been touched by your Holy Spirit, and should represent you. Continue to teach me how to reflect the image of your holiness. Help me to be a little picture of a great big God. Amen."
Perhaps God was asking me to consider this tonight --
God is holy. I have been redeemed though the blood of His Son, and He has called me to be holy. I know that my life is to reflect God's holiness.
"Just as he who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do; for it is written: "Be holy, because I am holy."" 1 Peter 1:15-16By this I understand that my actions should reflect the image of His holiness. But am I thinking too small?
"Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own." 1 Corinthians 6:19
By this I understand that it's even bigger than that. My spirit, my attitudes, my life, my actions, the way I live, the way I talk should all reflect the image of His holiness.
"To look at the Temple was to direct one to God. The symmetry, beauty, and purity of the Temple is to represent God." - SelectedBut am I thinking too small?
"So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God." 1 Corinthians 10:31It's huge! Everything I do should reflect the image of God's holiness.
What if my room is to reflect the image of God's holiness? What would that look like?
What if my office was to reflect the image of God's holiness? What would that look like?
What if the way I dress was to reflect the image of God's holiness? What would that look like?
What if my notebooks were to reflect the image of God's holiness? What would that look like?
What if my car was to reflect the image of God's holiness? What would that look like?
I had never thought about some of these little areas of my life before. Should they be object lessons that point to a holy God? It was the thought of my car that struck me tonight. My car should reflect the image of God's holiness? Wow, time to make some changes!
"Lord, may I reflect the image of Your holiness. Help me to understand that every part of my life -- large or small -- has been touched by your Holy Spirit, and should represent you. Continue to teach me how to reflect the image of your holiness. Help me to be a little picture of a great big God. Amen."
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Death Didn't Win
It has been almost 3 weeks since the passing of a great man who won my love and respect. He was a humble, Godly man, who was loving and caring, dedicated, and hardworking.
When death, our final enemy, began plotting against him, the news came back -- Cancer. He entered battle after battle, from chemo to waiting, from physical pain to emotional torture. But in it all, he remained firm and resolute. He not only believed in God, but had a close relationship with God that was real and active. From the day he got the news he had cancer, he testified every Sunday. I cannot remember a Sunday where he did not praise the Lord, in spite of his situation. In spite of death.
Death fought hard, but could not defeat the Power working inside. He never missed a Sunday, and he testified to God's goodness until he could no longer talk. He kept his mind and his humor to the end. He was in church the Sunday before he died.
Death tried to kill him. Death tried to crush his spirit. But when I look at it all, death didn't win. Oh, he died, yes. But he died in glory. He died in way that made death to be nothing. You see, he was redeemed by the power of God through Christ. Jesus died for him and rose again, conquering death and the grave! This same Jesus lived in and through him by the power of the Holy Spirit. Death didn't win, because death had already been defeated by the Power that was working in him!
He son relayed that His last audible prayer was, "Lord, I am learning to lean on you."
May God bless the memory and legacy of Kenneth Amspaugh.
"...Our Savior Jesus Christ, who has abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel." -- 2 Timothy 1:8
When death, our final enemy, began plotting against him, the news came back -- Cancer. He entered battle after battle, from chemo to waiting, from physical pain to emotional torture. But in it all, he remained firm and resolute. He not only believed in God, but had a close relationship with God that was real and active. From the day he got the news he had cancer, he testified every Sunday. I cannot remember a Sunday where he did not praise the Lord, in spite of his situation. In spite of death.
Death fought hard, but could not defeat the Power working inside. He never missed a Sunday, and he testified to God's goodness until he could no longer talk. He kept his mind and his humor to the end. He was in church the Sunday before he died.
Death tried to kill him. Death tried to crush his spirit. But when I look at it all, death didn't win. Oh, he died, yes. But he died in glory. He died in way that made death to be nothing. You see, he was redeemed by the power of God through Christ. Jesus died for him and rose again, conquering death and the grave! This same Jesus lived in and through him by the power of the Holy Spirit. Death didn't win, because death had already been defeated by the Power that was working in him!
He son relayed that His last audible prayer was, "Lord, I am learning to lean on you."
May God bless the memory and legacy of Kenneth Amspaugh.
"...Our Savior Jesus Christ, who has abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel." -- 2 Timothy 1:8
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