All night long, the storm raged. Wind howled in the treetops. It whipped over the water of the lake, ruffling it into turmoil. It ripped the leaves off the trees and scattered them everywhere. It tore tree branches loose and flung them onto the ground. Throughout all this uproar, two little baby squirrels were huddled high up in a hole in an enormous tree. With each blast of wind, the great tree shuddered, and the two frightened squirrels cowered and cuddled up closer to each

Photo by Paul Venturo Yes, Icelandic State Park looks pretty "northern" if you get the right angle. Icelandic State Park, way up in the...

Photo by Jenny Venturo Are you starting to develop a more reverent awe for the holiness of God? Over the past few weeks we’ve been...

He hasn’t eaten for a while now and he’s hungry. He is lurking around in the rocks, deep down in the water, looking for prey. Suddenly, a flash off to his side catches his notice. A shiner is struggling through the water—a perfect target. One powerful thrust of his tail and the shiner is in his mouth, down his throat . . . Wait a minute. Something is different about this shiner. He feels a sharp pang in his mouth—something is pulling him towards shore. He struggles and wriggl

Photo by Jenny Venturo The sun was just sinking under the hills when we pulled ourselves up the last rock to the top of a small mountain....

Photo by Jenny Venturo In my last devotional, I discussed the meaning of holiness and explained why it is so important to be constantly...

He runs about on talus fields all summer with bundles of small plants in his mouth. He spreads the plants in the sun to dry and brings them down in his hole when it rains. By the end of summer, he has a small haystack on the mountain where he lives. Do you know what he is yet? . . . He is a pika!   Pikas are small, brown mammals that live high on the mountains of Colorado. They are herbivores, which means they eat plants. Pikas grow to 8 ½ inches, but most are about 6 inches.

Artwork by Daniel Venturo Life gets complicated. Life gets confusing. Hopes, dreams, disappointments, failures, quarrels—all these tangle...

Photo by Paul Venturo It certainly wasn’t Colorado. And we were a little sad to be here. We had left behind the glorious snowy mountains,...

Photo by Jenny Venturo Last week, we celebrated the birth of a nation completely separate and independent from her former controlling...

Photo by Paul Venturo The loose rock in this picture is called "talus." Scree is a type of talus consisting of very small pieces of rock....

Photo by Jenny Venturo Jesus, God in the flesh, died in the place of guilty sinners. He was buried but rose again. Turn from your sin and...

In an open sunny meadow in Colorado there was a prairie dog town. All over the grassy field were dotted little mounds of dirt, and on each mound there was a little opening. Each of these openings was the front door to some little prairie dog’s house. Thousands of prairie dogs lived in the town. They all led busy lives of work and play, working together to gather food, clean their burrows, and always to keep an eye on the sky in case there should be a cruel hawk flying overhea