Good Ways to Make Promises

Childhood promises are made with curled pinky fingers.

Pacts to never allow girls in your tree fort are made by spitting into a handshake.

College commitment is made by signing on a dotted line and incurring a massive debt load.

Marriage covenants are made with words, signatures, and rings.

And a promise never to wipe out all of humanity by water is made with radiant lights in the sky spanning the visible color spectrum.

I’d say that’s a pretty good way to make a promise.

Tonight this rainbow spread out over our house so intensely that even our next door neighbor drove over to make sure we saw it.

“In all my life I’ve never seen a rainbow like that,” Joan said. Considering she was born in the 1930’s, that’s saying something.

The pinkish-purple atmosphere itself – not really picked up by the camera – was one of the most surreal washes of color I’ve seen personally. Astounding.

Aside from a super-wide-angle lens on one of our Nikons, the only way I could capture it was using a panoramic stitch photo app on my iPhone 4.

I kept waiting for something to post on today; in light of hurricane Irene, I think this subject’s a winner. ch:


Somewhere Over Frink Park

Jennifer and I had a wonderful evening leading worship at Frink Park in Clayton, NY last night. Joseph Gilchrist sat in on drums, and his brother Daniel on bass.

With a huge storm front moving in from the south, we decided to start early as there was already a good amount of people seated. We asked the Lord to hold off the rain, then told the audience we’d play as long as we could.

After more than an hour of playing, the dark sky loomed overhead. I turned to Jenny and asked her to sing one last song. She picked our favorite: Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

Just as she started the bridge, she pointed up behind the audience and said, “I just want everyone to know there’s a giant rainbow up there.” To all our amazement, right on cue, a rainbow appeared. As if God was reminding us once again of his promises, and heard our request to keep the rain off.

As we pulled out of Clayton with all the gear packed away, the storm hit. Hard.

I asked people to take pics and send them to me so I could make a collage and post it here. If you were there last night and see a photo you took, please leave a comment below so we know who you are and can give you props.

Thanks to all those who came out; we love playing for the hometown crowd. ch: