HELP WANTED

My dear friends,

I need some peer review for the first three chapters of my thesis on Scottish history. Who's interested in helping me out? Please email me (at the address in my bio to the right side of the page), and I'll send you a copy. Be ruthless; I need this to make sense to the general reader. I will add a short introduction and conclusion soon, but for now, I need to see if this is working.

Thanks,
Wesley

The Eighth Wonder of the World

Not in Egypt... Not in Asia... Not in Europe... In my own farm-country state of Indiana, near where I grew up. Please take a few minuets and view this magnificent monument (be advised: mute the euphemism of God's name at 0.35-0.39).

San Antonio Independent Christian Film Festival

Just watched the Christian Film Fest last night; a very God glorifying ceremony with many Christian testimonies.

Greetings for the Great White North

Welcome to the crisp woods of Middle Michigan; some of you may know it better as Narnia. We had another great snowfall the night before last, and now the snow lies deep and quiet about our great northern forests. In the words of my sister, today's sunshine is truly a "glorious morning." The thermometer read -5 degrees Fahrenheit at 9:00am. Hear are some pictures...

Yesterday:

 "A moment later she found that she was standing in the middle of a wood... with snow under her feet and snowflakes falling through the air...."

 

This Morning:

"There was a crisp, dry snow under his feet and more snow lying on the branches of the trees. Overhead there was a pale blue sky, the sort of sky one sees on a fine winter day in the morning. Straight ahead of him he saw between the tree-trunks the sun, just rising, very read and clear."

Bonnie Ship the Diamond

One of Mr. Zahm's best seafaring songs... If I was to ever write a novel, so far such attempts have been failures, I would write a seafaring adventure.

I met Mr. Zahm in person at the Scottish festival in New Harmony, Indiana in 2001, before he began working with Vision Forum events. Our family loved his music and listened to it often. Imagine our surprise and delight when we found out he was advancing Christian balladeering through Faith and Freedom tours, etc.

Thesis/Book Status Report

Friedrich Gauermann's Deer Running through a Forest

I've written 70 pages of well documented argumentation in two and a half weeks time... and still going strong...


Wesley

Upon his Passing

I give this eulogy to my grandfather, Colonel Earl Wesley Reynolds, whom God called home from Illinois, as the strokes of twelve tolled the Blessed Morn of Christmas Day at our home in Michigan in the Year of Our Lord Jesus Christ's Reign Two Thousand and Twelve.

Upon the Passing of Colonel Earl Wesley Reynolds of the Mighty Eighth Army Air Corps 493rd Bomb Group

Among the last of generations bled,

Mark him a hero of the living, dead.

When round the world the lightning flashed its path,

With wars more dreadful than Achilles' wrath,

His wings of justice raged with bursting steel

Upon the crows of black science's wheel.

Among the last of generations bled,

Mark him a hero of the living, dead.

His talons tightly grasped the burning rock,

And flung its fires on factory bridge and dock;

For or'e the furnaces of evil's liar,

He sang his circling cry for freedom there.

Among the last of generations bled,

Mark him a hero of the living, dead.

Anon our eagle of the golden skies

To Dover's heights did land and close his eyes

In England's peaceful fields and end its strife;

America! You give the Old new life!

Among the last of generations bled,

Mark him a hero of the living, dead.

When hushed and awed the world seemed after war,

He to the House of God repaired afar,

And gave a sigh of thanks for Heav'nly dew;

For peace and rest and things made ever new.

Among the last of generations bled,

Mark him a hero of the living, dead.

A shepherd to God's people he became;

A patriarch of Reynolds' house and name;

A Colonel of his Country's pride again;

Ordained to lead the desperate race of men.

Among the last of generations bled,

Mark him a hero of the living, dead.

With gentle face and eyes both firm and keen,

He truly, nobly loved his lady queen;

His wife and only love on earthly green,

Through youthful strength and old age weakening.

Among the last of generations bled,

Mark him a hero of the living, dead.

A princely bed is laid when evening wanes,

Within these gentle white and quiet plains,

See here in peace beneath this earth he lies

Who in his age was captain of the skies.

Among the last of generations bled,

Mark him a hero of the living, dead.