Author Archives: Mark H Miller

About Mark H Miller

Diane and I live in Leander, Texas. This past June 17, 2015 I celebrated the 49th anniversary of my ordination. We returned to Texas after three years in Washington, during which I served as interim minister in Bellevue/Eastgate and Mercer Island. Am planning to begin a 5th novel that will have my protagonist, Tricia Gleason, serve a year in licensed ministry in Snoqualmie, Washington. The novel, "The Lemon Drop Didn't Melt," will find Tricia wrestling with ministry challenges. None of which more daunting than someone wanting her breathing to stop. All the published novels are available on Amazon and Amazon Kindle under Mark Henry Miller. A primary goal in our return to Texas is to make sure grandchildren get lots of attention--here and in Chicago and Washington, D.C. Traveling is definitely an activity that will not slow down. With that, of course, fishing will happen. To that the t-shirt is apt, "I fish; therefore I am." In addition to novels, the book of Blogs, "Voice Of My Heart," is also available on Amazon.

God Hanging Out

My Saturday Preacher, Art Johnson, ministered to me today. He does every time we exchange ideas, hopes and hurts. He spoke of a friend of his who was demoted, was stranded on a road. Art declared it pushed his friend … Continue reading

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A Blessing From My Father to Begin Advent–His Candle Always Lighted For Me

I read of the last hours of President George H.W. Bush’s life, the final exchanges between him and his son, George, his closest friends and family and pastor and physicians. AT 94 “he was ready” with no doubt in anyone’s … Continue reading

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How Is Your Nose Doing?

I’ve developed a habit. Well, overstated, but at least, “upon occasion” I do this: when I compliment someone—Es Mller, my saintly mother, God rest her soul—taught me this: always try the truth on for size. If it doesn’t fit, say … Continue reading

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How Is Your Nose Doing?

I’ve developed a habit. Well, overstated, but at least, “upon occasion” I do this: when I compliment someone—Es Mller, my saintly mother, God rest her soul—taught me this: always try the truth on for size. If it doesn’t fit, say … Continue reading

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Thanksgiving As An Immigrant

The Miller’s and the Schnell’s came to America. They fled Nordka, Russia, because the initial cause for them to move to Russia from Germany were the promises to worship freely, no conscription and their own acreage. In the latter part … Continue reading

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Tears of Love–Precious!

Too often, “How are you?” is never more than a form of “Hello.” I understand that. Not asking for a change. But. On this day, a day before Thanksgiving, a short time before Advent, then Christmas and then Epiphany, I … Continue reading

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The Virtue In Hauling Garbage

I think of my father this morning. How he made lemonade no matter the stack of lemons piled against him. He was born in 1908, reached six feet four inches in height; the depth of his heart could never be … Continue reading

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