El Cajon, CA
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Articles by Dean Kellio

Paul was a tent maker. That was his trade through which he supported himself while visiting distant churches as he traveled the world. He did not want his work for God to be a burden on the local church so he very graciously took up the needle, canvas and thread. He met others while traveling who were also in the trade of sewing tents.

The flame on the oil lamp flickered as a cool breeze pushed the fabric hanging in the doorway to one side. The evening air was refreshing to Peter as he watched the sun disappear behind the western wall of the Temple signaling the beginning of the Passover festival. This was a special Wednesday, High Sabbath, which happened to fall right before their weekly Saturday Sabbath.  

It’s been said before that there is always a period of calm before a storm. A beautiful moment when the sky is clear and the winds cease to blow. Birds cheerfully sing from branches above us while butterflies flutter in the breeze before our eyes. Out in the distance, out over the horizon, however, high clouds are beginning to blow in. They begin to gather into thick, dark gray storm clouds that block out all the beautiful light. We instinctively know it’s time to find shelter, protecting ourselves from the ravages of the coming storm.

Life; what a miracle it is that literally envelops us at every turn in the highway and signpost we pass while traveling through our lives. It is a magnificent, glorious spark that ignites lifeless matter into living, breathing, self aware, conscious beings that are spirit filled with the breath of God.

The inner cell of the jail was dark, dank and smelled of mold and mildew. A very thin sliver of light fought to find its way into the inner chamber. A rat scurried and stopped standing on its hind legs long enough to smell two men who were chained to the concrete floor. It was midnight and the men, who had been beaten on their backs with canes, were carefully leaning against the damp cold rock walls singing hymns to God.

In the afternoon twilight the quaking aspens moved and shimmered with each gust of the wind. It was as if I was watching an ocean wave build then crash into a reef where it boiled and churned in several cyclonic eddies. I couldn’t actually see the wind and therefore never knew from what direction it came from or where it was going but still I had the evidence that it was a real phenomenon as it tossed and turned the shimmering aspen leaves.

I’m sitting here looking out my kitchen nook window as the sun rises, a few clouds slowly roll by as a flock of swallows dive and dart in the beautiful light that gracefully radiates through a partially cloudy sun rise. It’s pleasing to me that each new morning brings more of God’s eternal grace and mercy. I’m aware of my breathing as my chest inflates and exhales, and think how many things there are to be thankful for.

If I could be any man that ever lived, but just one man, then maybe I would have been Adam. Adam was unique, a direct creation of God who had personal contact, fellowship with his Creator as they walked together in the coolness of the garden. Adam didn’t have a belly button and was the lead gardener having the responsibility of naming all the animals. How perfect life would have been for him if only he would have made better choices.

For some unknown reason as I looked into the mirror that sat flat on the kitchen table I began to think of impossible things. Can God make a rock so big that He can’t lift it, how many angels can dance on the head of a pin and if God created other life in this universe, did Jesus have to die for them too?

By Dean Kellio


There’s joy in a journey. With each step we take we get closer to our final destination. A journey of a thousand miles begins with just one first step where we move forward by putting one foot in front of the other.