Carol began painting primer in the basement (rec room) bathroom. Amanda and Sarah finished it a week later, then began painting the rec room itself today. Unfortunately, the rec room is large and will take some time.
Met today with Prasad who joined our Voyager team. He will be responsible for the Product Data Management (PDM) project.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Sunday, July 24, 2005
MS Photography Logo
Today I began work on a logo for my new company, Michael Sheppard Photography. I used a font called Felix Titling for the name portion. The word "photography" is font Franklin Gothic Book and is located below and right justified in lower case and in a darker shade. Not quite satisfied yet.
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
A gift of sheer joy
I am sitting in my parents' home alone. They have gone from the farm to a nearby town. I am 13 years old and I am watching television.
We do not have much, never did. And yet, we never lacked for the necessities. I never went hungry or poorly dressed. I was happy, loved, with great parents who had given birth to me in their early 40's. I no doubt was a surprise to them, but a welcomed one. My parents loved each other, enjoyed a comfortable home, were in generally good health, well-fed, with many friends and family members. They were certainly not rich materially but seem to have everything that counted.
I heard the car drive onto the graveled driveway of our home and did not pay much attention to it since it was expected. The kitchen door opened and I heard my mother's footsteps as she walked through to the family room where I was sitting. She had a certain look on her face that revealed more than normal, but it was not readily discernible.
She said, "Daddy wants you to help him outside."
I rose from the couch, walked passed her and on through the kitchen onto the back porch. I could hear her following me as I walked, which was odd.
As I opened the screen door of the porch toward the driveway and car, I saw my Dad bringing from the back seat of the car the most perfect new bicycle ever made. You must understand that most of us farm boys either had no bike, or a broken down and rusted single speed. And yet, here in my Dad's hand, just now being rolled onto the ground, was a black and silver 3-speed racing bike with turned-down handlebars and skinny tires! No one in my experience had ever dreamed of, much less possessed, such a gift.
To this day, it is something of a miracle to me that my poor parents would be able to both afford and select such a perfect bike. This is the single greatest gift, accompanied by the greatest emotional impact and joyous surprise, I have ever received, or will ever receive.
Certainly, it was purchased at some recreation shop for probably no more than $70 in 1964. Not a trivial amount but not unusually excessive either. Yet, were it to have cost a thousand times as much, I could not have been pleased one bit greater.
I was totally surprised, the gift was completely unexpected, and could not have been even imagined as possible. And now, here it was suddenly in my hand, given out of love for a son.
God, help me one day to just once overwhelm with sheer joy one other human being.
We do not have much, never did. And yet, we never lacked for the necessities. I never went hungry or poorly dressed. I was happy, loved, with great parents who had given birth to me in their early 40's. I no doubt was a surprise to them, but a welcomed one. My parents loved each other, enjoyed a comfortable home, were in generally good health, well-fed, with many friends and family members. They were certainly not rich materially but seem to have everything that counted.
I heard the car drive onto the graveled driveway of our home and did not pay much attention to it since it was expected. The kitchen door opened and I heard my mother's footsteps as she walked through to the family room where I was sitting. She had a certain look on her face that revealed more than normal, but it was not readily discernible.
She said, "Daddy wants you to help him outside."
I rose from the couch, walked passed her and on through the kitchen onto the back porch. I could hear her following me as I walked, which was odd.
As I opened the screen door of the porch toward the driveway and car, I saw my Dad bringing from the back seat of the car the most perfect new bicycle ever made. You must understand that most of us farm boys either had no bike, or a broken down and rusted single speed. And yet, here in my Dad's hand, just now being rolled onto the ground, was a black and silver 3-speed racing bike with turned-down handlebars and skinny tires! No one in my experience had ever dreamed of, much less possessed, such a gift.
To this day, it is something of a miracle to me that my poor parents would be able to both afford and select such a perfect bike. This is the single greatest gift, accompanied by the greatest emotional impact and joyous surprise, I have ever received, or will ever receive.
Certainly, it was purchased at some recreation shop for probably no more than $70 in 1964. Not a trivial amount but not unusually excessive either. Yet, were it to have cost a thousand times as much, I could not have been pleased one bit greater.
I was totally surprised, the gift was completely unexpected, and could not have been even imagined as possible. And now, here it was suddenly in my hand, given out of love for a son.
God, help me one day to just once overwhelm with sheer joy one other human being.
Friday, March 11, 2005
Separation from a hidden treasure
My son is about to leave the country for a week's school field trip to Costa Rica. This is his first trip away so far and a primordial emotion stirs in some protected place within his parents. It is a place that carries a veiled possession prized and hidden, the knowledge of ownership itself sufficient for full contentment.
This hidden place is now suddenly exposed and its valued treasure made vulnerable. It could not be quietly protected forever, at least not by us. The treasure must now pass back to God for his use. It is difficult to let go, but the recipient is greater than the givers.
This hidden place is now suddenly exposed and its valued treasure made vulnerable. It could not be quietly protected forever, at least not by us. The treasure must now pass back to God for his use. It is difficult to let go, but the recipient is greater than the givers.
Saturday, March 05, 2005
A shadow moment of love
Someone close to me lies now in the care of nurses and physicians. The patient is my wife's father. Having spent Friday night until 4:00a with him, my wife and I have now been with him in the hospital the entire day today. Why?
Why do we humans choose to be in an unpleasant place of suffering for hours, days, and weeks, when we ourselves are well? An environment of pain is a place from which to escape, not endure. Yet, there we were; the desire to leave unheeded.
Perhaps it is the shadow of God that allows us for a moment to overcome the instinct of flight and fear and rise to the greater potential of humanity. If, as scripture declares and I believe, God is love, then we have lived in a moment of it.
Why do we humans choose to be in an unpleasant place of suffering for hours, days, and weeks, when we ourselves are well? An environment of pain is a place from which to escape, not endure. Yet, there we were; the desire to leave unheeded.
Perhaps it is the shadow of God that allows us for a moment to overcome the instinct of flight and fear and rise to the greater potential of humanity. If, as scripture declares and I believe, God is love, then we have lived in a moment of it.
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
A sane remnant
There is a sane remnant, of this I am fully convinced. God would not have it otherwise nor leave the world barren and hopeless. Somewhere between extreme and controlling fundamentalism to excessive liberalism without rules or restraint, reason and goodness live quietly and surely.
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