Teamsters new leader killed, brutal murder of prostitute, Amanda Geike case, Olaf Wieghorst forgeries, Mission Beach crime
Various Authors 11:56 a.m., Feb. 21
It was about the day after I got laid-off in October of 2008 when I took this photo at the lake (also, my profile pic). I woke up early as usual. I dropped off my son Kristof at Eastlake High as usual; grabbed a grande Starbucks cappuccino (my last one, I thought, until I get a job again); then drove east at Olympic Parkway, right at Wueste Road, until I got to the lake's boat dock. The gate is already open? I parked and sat at the parking lot right at the shore. The sky was playing with light and darkness. I sat and stared at just what passed my eyes, in between sips of my last Starbucks grande cappucino. Just sit and stare- Perk of the jobless, I must have chuckled. Right where I was staring, where the sky was still dark in the mountains, I saw it. The heaven seemed to just open up a door and all its glorious light, shackled overnight, peered out and tried to escape. It was an awe-inspiring sight. I grabbed my phone and took a picture, not really sure what the shot will look like, not really looking at what I'm shooting at, because I wanted to see everything with my naked eyes. Then the heavens door closed, a brief moment of darkness took place, then the sun rose up from the mountains and light took over.
Every sunset gives us one day less to live, but every sunrise gives us one day more to hope. The lake never fails to remind me of God's presence. This is the one place I can go to in a Godhunt and always find something. I found hope.