James Derkits

Originally Published in the South Jetty Newspaper No one needs me to point out that a lot of things are changing, have been changing, and will continue to change in Port Aransas. I heard about how much had already changed by the time I moved here in 2012. That has a lot to do with how attractive our little island home is, set here on the edge of Texas in the Gulf of Mexico. Who wouldn’t love it? (Thanks be to God for those people who do not, and prefer to live and even vacation elsewhere.) What brought me here, and people in the early days, continues to attract people to this little sand bar. She was wild, and she still is. That’s what the coyotes tell me as they track jackrabbits across our church yard. Change is a difficult thing to live with, but when change stops so does life. Change is the nature of this good creation we inhabit; of which we are a part. We pray a Psalm each week in church and at the end of the Psalm we add: “Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy

At the end of this month we will celebrate a most seemingly bizarre holiday. On the last night of the tenth month, we encourage children to put on scary disguises and go door-to-door in the dark, begging for candy. I love it. I look forward to Halloween each year in it's American expression, and especially the way it happens in Port Aransas. Three cheers for Channel Vista!  A couple of years ago, I painted my face Dia de los Muertos style as I tried to keep up with my son and his friends running around the neighborhood. We have a small side-altar at our church in front of the columbarium during this month. There we place photos of our loved-ones. Day of the Dead goes all month for us. Then around All Saints' Day, November 1, we say special prayers at that side-altar. We remember that for the faithful, "...life is changed not ended..." as we pray during our funeral service. A few years ago, I added my a photo of two of my nieces to the altar, and this year I've add

Originally printed in our November Day School Newsletter  Death is a difficult word to say for it's stark truth. My dad died at the beginning of October, and now he is dead. These days in American culture we try to disguise death in softer language. We don't like death, we pretend it isn't a thing. Perhaps it stared with funeral home culture; those who have to talk with so many people about death often use language like "passing on," "departing", or even "expiring". Then there's a host of language about going to be with God, Jesus, etc. all of which I believe, but I still use the D word, and I think you should, too.  The reality is death is part of life. It is the very end part. As different as we all are, each of us one way or another arrive at death. That makes me very aware of the gift of this present moment that I am living. I am alive now, and I will not be one day. I'd better get busy! It pushes me to relish my relationships, and