Gods

9 Feb

Ken Davis 130I read somewhere, probably in a National Geographic magazine, that you can tell a lot about people by what they enshrine. I suppose every place has its temples.  In my hometown, the church is at the center of everything: potlucks, baptisms, weddings, auctions, bingo. At my old school the baseball diamond was our shrine.  The folks from town would fill the bleachers and pray for victory. As players, we were well versed in the scripture of baseball lore and knew all the patron saints: Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Ty Cobb, and Joe DiMaggio.

The moment I set foot in the stone boathouse, I knew this was Morton Hill Academy’s shrine.  According to Headmaster Conrady, the Nook, as it was called, was the oldest building on campus.  Inside were sturdy wooden beams, lobster traps, coiled ropes, and a colorful array of oars. The scents of lemon wax, polish, and apple cider vinegar were as powerful as any incense I’d smelled. But it was the boats themselves, gleaming and elevated like altars, that were the focal point. – Navigating Early by Clare Vanderpool

Matthew 6:21 For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

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