T+ in +Time
Comes along early Sunday morning, black out my window and across the beloved Bay, cold, well 51F colder than I like, and I muse on what to write that could bless this my thinkingest part of my day and holiest part of my week. Not a scan through the news, it could only bring me down, that’s fer sure, that’s fer dang sure.
Yet I scan anyway: a gray world where all the news is always all bad, it’s why my business associate in northern Virginia my first year of Navy retirement 37 years ago told me he never turns on the car radio on the drive to work: he refused to start his day other than up and bright.
Scan the lectionary for today? Nah, been doing that all week long in an effort to lasso what to preach on, Genesis, Mark, and Paul in Romans all remembering Abraham.
Ancient of everlasting days, and God of Love;
The Lord, the great I AM! by earth and Heav’n confessed;
I bow and bless the sacred Name forever blessed.
What about something from the corners of my mind, some ember still glowing -- maybe a Pontiac from long ago, or that Oldsmobile in the garage out back, is it still there? They don’t make ‘em like they used to. In fact, they don’t make ‘em at all anymore. But then neither do I, so WTH, never mind.
Open and run the cursor down the email, nope. Oh, wait, yep, email from MJ is usually a surprising delight. There could be no more peaceful way to open the Lord’s Day than to watch Mother Nature in action, a calving glacier, a far corner of Creation being itself as life goes on. Thank you, Mary.
One thing I notice about life: I’m really enjoying growing old, so why rush it --
T+ still in +Time