Skookum, Santa and the Searching Eyes of God

An iconic sign in my hometown calls to mind more than childhood memories

Our family moved to Wenatchee, Washington on a hot July day in the summer of 1964. It was the very day that country music legend Jim Reeves was killed in a plane crash.

An iconic sign with moveable eyes welcomed us as we entered town. The Skookum Indian greeted us with a knowing gaze. As a twelve-year-old I was impressed by the searching eyes and the eventual wink of that motorized apple label image.

Although I moved away from the valley when I graduated from college, regular visits home to see my parents and my brother weren’t complete with exchanging glances with Skookum. After I married, family vacations inevitably included trips to Wenatchee for my three daughters to be spoiled by their grandparents.

As we drove into town, I would alert my girls to the fact that Skookum was looking for them. With excitement Kristin, Allison and Lauren would crane their necks to look for the searching eyes of that friendly face. When one of the those moving eyes winked, they laughed with glee. They were convinced that the young Indian brave had spotted them.

Although that familiar image no longer graces the skyline of our town, I picture Skookum each time I drive the Avenue. For me, that face was a tangible reminder that my Father in Heaven is continually aware of what is going on in my life. And that’s a comforting thought.

At Christmastime we refer to the omniscience of Santa while singing “He sees you when you’re sleeping. He knows when you’re awake. He knows if you’ve been bad or good so be good for goodness’ sake…” The lyrics of that holiday classic are meant to motivate little ones to be on their best behavior throughout the year.

Looking back, however, my sense is that the never-sleeping eyes of Santa are viewed through the lens of guilt or threat. “You’d better watch out! I’m telling you why…”

The supernatural traits ascribed to that fictional Yuletide figure actually derive from One who truly is all-knowing and ever-present. The God we worship, as the old African American spiritual declares, “never sleeps. He never slumbers. He watches over you both night and day…”

Whereas some view that cosmic all-seeing eye with a sense of dread, I find a sense of comfort in knowing that nothing escapes the purview of Providence.  There is a passage in the Old Testament that references the searching eyes of God. It’s found in 2 Chronicles 16:9. “The eyes of the LORD search the whole earth in order to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him.”
Rather than thinking of God’s awareness of our attitudes, actions and reactions from a negative point of view, the aforementioned Scripture suggests that God’s focus on our lives is a good thing. It is intended to have beneficial results. In other words, God’s awareness of my desire to please Him has a promised payoff.

The all-knowing nature of God is nothing to be feared. It is a truth to take hold of with gratitude. When we feel like nobody knows the trouble we’ve seen, we can be assured of the fact that God knows and cares.

Several years ago our family was traveling in Greece visiting the village from which my paternal grandfather immigrated to America. My girls, now grown, were introduced to an icon of an eye sold by a street vendor. This blue and white glass ornament symbolized the eye of God. This beautiful keepsake conveyed a simple but profound truth.

Unlike the winking eye of a Wenatchee icon that had defined their childhood, this “God’s eye” didn’t wink. It is a constant reminder, to my children and to me, of God’s continual awareness and His constant care. I, for one, am glad He never sleeps.

The Three Amigos

David McKenna, Greg Asimakoupoulos and Don Argue communing at St. Arbucks

Much like the Holy Trinity,
we’re one in friendship, though we’re three.
We listen to each other’s hearts
and pray for those we love.

St. Arbucks is our chosen place.
It’s where we sip a cup of grace.
Such rich communion slakes our thirst
and nourishes our faith.

Our trust allows transparency.
We own our fears and victories.
Without the need to preen or boast,
we share our memories.

The Three Amigos! Such are we.
A brotherhood. A company.
A triune cadre with one aim:
to spur each other on.

* Dr. David McKenna is the past president of Seattle Pacific University and Asbury Theological Seminary. Dr. Don Argue is the past president of the National Association of Evangelicals and Northwest University. Both men have become mentors to me as we meet regularly to debrief lessons learned on our spiritual journeys.

Life is Like a Rack of Billiard Balls

Taking aim at the days of our lives

We rack the days each month and then
they break apart time and again.
Our ordered plans quite randomly
can find us on our heels.

We’re challenged by another’s choice
that silences our eager voice
and finds us angling our aims
and banking (fingers crossed).

Behind the eight ball, we are blind.
We’re snookered by what seems unkind.
But patiently we call our shots
and do the best we can.

Sometimes we scratch and lose our turn,
then take our cues from from those who’ve learned
that life (like pool) takes more than skill.
We play what we’ve been giv’n.

Graduating from the School of Hard Knocks

Chalking up the lessons of life to the experiences of daily living

The School of Hard Knocks
some have called it.
It’s graduate school to be sure.
But to pass, there is no dissertation
or patenting some cancer cure.

There’s no quitting work to take classes.
And the homework is done all at home.
The alumni of Hard Knocks are famous
for how faith-in-action is grown.

You don’t have to write research papers.
There’s no need to go into debt.
What’s unique about this school of learning
is that life’s stormy waves get you wet.

At the end of some rope you’re left clinging
with nothing to do except trust.
And by trusting in One Who’s proved faithful,
your faith muscles bulge like they’ll bust.

The Black Dog Bites Again!

The “black dog” of depression robbed these two daughters of their mother


She sang about the good old days.
With love she built a bridge
that helped her run away from the “black dog.”
She knew where she was going
when her day for dying came.
Naomi (from her youth) reached out to God.

“Don’t be cruel!” she prayed intently
as she’d cry herself to sleep.
“Your Baby’s Got the Blues” was in her head.
The rhythm of the rain drowned out
the morning birds who’d chirp.
A change of heart is what she daily pled.

But still this mother languished
from depression’s dreaded spell.
She verbalized her pain most publicly.
Her country music lyrics
often called to mind young love
as she dreamed of joy and freedom. “Why not me?”

This Mother’s Day two daughters
will be grieving for their mom
who couldn’t bear the torture one more day.
May Ashley and Wynona
recognize love is alive.
Please carry them, dear Father, this I pray.


** My introduction to The Judds came as I was spinning records as a deejay while working at KICY radio in Nome, Alaska. It was the summer of 1987. I had just turned thirty-five years of age. My wife and I along with our children accepted an invitation to serve as short-term missionaries at a radio station owned and operated by our denomination (The Evangelical Covenant Church). Much of the music played on the station that served the rural villages of Western Alaska was country/western.

“I Know Where I’m Going” by The Judds was on our play list. I loved the harmony of the mother/daughter duo. I also loved the title. Although the song was not spiritual in the least, it was an invitation to trust the Lord to lead me to a future of His choosing. While I didn’t know the details to what my life and ministry held in store, my Father knew. He knew where He was going with my life. He invited me to come, too.

Curiously, I just turned seventy. As I look back it’s hard to realize that experience in Nome was half my life ago.