The Unclad Soul

For the past three summers, my daughter Ingrid and I and her family, have gone to the beach in Destin, Florida. This summer, because of scheduling conflicts and other special family events, we didn’t get to go. And I have to say, I miss the ocean. One of the first things I do when I get there is to walk out into the clear emerald water and stare out over the horizon. The scene is vast and mesmerizing. What is out there, far beyond what I can see? I wonder. Giant ships sail slowly by in the distance. A speed boat will move across the waves now and then, far enough out you can barely see the people on deck. Seagulls fill the sky and the noise they make is not at all disturbing but adds to the beauty in front of me. They seem to be singing as they dip toward the beach in search of food. But on farther out, past any sight of boats or ships, the ocean remains, enormous and limitless, disappearing from view. Loren Eisley, the brilliant anthropologist, once said, “If the...

Memorial Reflections Dr. E.W. Mince December 27, 2011 There is that well known passage in the Old Testament where the writer speaks of the seasons of life: To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven: A time to be born, And a time to die; A time to plant, And a time to harvest what is planted; A time to make war, And a time to heal from war; A time to tear down, And a time to build up; A time to weep, And a time to laugh; A time to mourn, And a time to celebrate; A time to cast away stones, And a time to gather stones; A time to embrace, And a time to refrain from embracing; A time to gain, And a time to lose; A time to keep, And a time to throw away; A time to pull apart, And a time to sew together; A time to keep silence, And a time to speak; A time to love, And a time to not love; A time of war, And a time of peace.[1] Dr. Mince understood and accepted the cycles of life. He was a seasonal man. He knew how to transi...

Autumn in Dallas has nearly come to an end. Many of the trees here have displayed their final colors and have dropped their leaves like beautiful Christmas ornaments that lay everywhere. As I walked to my car yesterday outside my apartment where all sorts of trees decorate the grounds I could not keep from seeing the leaves. They were shuffling in the breeze like children in brilliant dress raising their hands to be noticed. I stopped and looked at the ones at my feet. Bright yellow and red ones; some speckled with shades of both. I felt as though I was walking past gifts on my way to my car. All of that adornment reminded me that it is the natural things in life that are most enduring. I get bogged down in this disgraceful presidential race, in the snarling Christmas traffic, in the sagging economy, in bills and cranky shoppers and the nightly horror on the news. Perhaps that is why autumn was created, to help us keep our focus on life's truest treasures. The poet W...