The End of Frank Lot:

Our altitude was the same. We were flying in formation. The both of us were at the inside turret, in perfect view of each other. It was the same Frank that I had come to know, with his half cocked smile, crooked nose and his thinning black hair pushed to one side. Yet, this time, something was different. His eyes had lost the excitement and the ambition. The complexion of his face had seemed to age. Frank knew that his B-17 had been hit. But not the way I knew it was. It soon became hard to see him through the thick dark smoke pouring from the engines. His Flying Fortress was going down. For just a moment, the smoke cleared and for the last time, I made eye contact with the thirty-something Frank Lot from the windy city Chicago. He saluted me, I returned the salute. Just as his flattened hand fell from his forehead, so did the B-17 begin to fall from the sky. The Goose took it's last hit and the left wing was torn to bits, causing a chain of explosions. I uttered the words, "see you soon." I knew it wouldn't be too long until it was my turn to join the fallen. For once, I felt like smoking one of those cigarettes that Frank had offered to me.



NATHANIEL DREW KIMMEL

The Beginning of Frank Lot

A new soldier was added to our regiment today. We were all introduced to him quite soon after his arrival and it was immediately clear that he was not yet one of us. His eyes were bright with excitement; his hands were soft and the skin on his face was without blemish. His skin still had color and there was hardly any sign of aging. Sometimes I begin to feel considerably sick when a new soldier joins our regiment, many times because it is directly due to the loss of a companion. Yet this time was different, we had not lost anybody on any recent missions. We were told that this man was different. Frank Lot was his name. A thirty something from Chicago that had yet to fly into a combat zone, yet was still considered to be "top of the line" so to speak. Not to us, though. Respect is something well earned among those in the Air Corp. And as of right now, Frank meant to us about as much as a Kraut means to any true American.


Nathaniel Drew Kimmel

Conviction is a strong word. It is defined as a fixed or firm belief by dictionary.com. I believe it to mean much more than that. It's not so much a belief but rather an impression on the heart. An impression that can and should induce change in one's life. A heart without conviction is a heart without morality. It is important to understand, though, that conviction and guilt are two completely different things. They are too often mistaken for each other. Guilt is selfish. It looks to ourselves and beats us up. Whereas conviction leads us to change.

My misconstrued thoughts are leading somewhere. As of late I have felt the weight of conviction pulling on my heart. Conviction pointing towards certain hypocrisy in my life. I have taken for granted the truth of God's word by not including it in my everyday life; by not letting it breathe through my life. "Will painted gold enrich a man?" Thomas Watson speaks of hypocrisy in his book, The Godly Man's Picture. He also says, "He who has only a painted holiness shall have a painted happiness."

I find my life tainted with small compromises. By allowing my thoughts and language to not glorify and not uplift the One who died for me in many situations has painted a picture of hypocrisy to many of my non-Christian friends. While many of these friends have thoroughly expressed not caring whether I say one thing or another; I have not shown them God's love by doing so. The great gift of salvation is free, but the price tag on our lives is immense.

Luke 14 verse 27 and 33

27 Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.
33 So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.

I have found lately that too often, my life is not completely given up to the Lord. All glory be to our great God for the blessing of conviction.

The cost of salvation is God's gift to us; who better to give our valued life to than Him.


Nathaniel Drew Kimmel

Throughout life, we are often placed in certain circumstances that seem overwhelming; circumstances that seem to shrink our time usually spent on things that we enjoy. Whenever I find myself in those situations, I often become discouraged and upset that mandatory sacrifices have been made. However, I feel that these times only call for inventive and intuitively created adventures to achieve our own sense of joy in life.

I have been working at Rankin's Exxon for almost three months now. It is my main source of income and also my my main source of time spent. Due to the decreased amount of leisure time, I have seemingly fallen into a creative slump and this is truly not a place I like to be. Yet, I believe if I stay in that place, it is because of my own laziness and lack of aspiration to pursue things that I want. There twenty-four hours in a day. That breaks down to one thousand, four-hundred and forty minutes. I spend eight (or four hundred and eighty minutes) of the twenty-four hours at Exxon working. This leaves me with 16 hours of time to myself, not counting the days when other duties take priority. "But Ned, what about sleep? When do you rest?" Well that still leaves me with eight hours to myself, giving me eight ours of staring at the backs of my eyelids.

I do have time to spend. It's just a matter of how I use that time. My time at Exxon is many times something I dread, usually due to it's repetitive aspects. However, everyday is a new day with new experiances, even my day's at the Shelocta Mall, or more commonly known, Rankin's Exxon.

With great hope, I will plan to delve into many more adventures in my days to come. Everyday is a new day. Everyday that I wake up is another oppurtunity to experiance something new or indulge in something that I have previously enjoyed. The wise use of the time that God has given to me is imperative.

Nathaniel Drew Kimmel