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Daily Archives: April 8, 2019
I have asked several of you for prayer requests multiple times. I will not ask again. I understand that sometimes it’s uncomfortable voicing your problems. Even to a friend. I can see where that would be even more difficult than talking to a stranger. I won’t pretend to know all your worries and fears and struggles, but I know a few of them. And don’t borrow trouble, I’m not going to type them out here. Maybe that’s what concerns you, that even though I don’t have to use your name, someone could figure out who I was writing about. I get it. Thomas Wolfe was ostracized from Asheville after he wrote Look Homeward Angel. He didn’t use their real names, but the descriptions were so blindingly obvious (and accurate) people talked for decades. I haven’t read it (yet, it’s a book club selection later this year) but I say maybe the folks of Asheville should have treated him with a little more respect if they didn’t want their faults and realities trotted out for all to enjoy. I mean, read. Anyway. No matter. Some of you struggle with family issues, or career issues, or health issues. Some of you struggle to simply believe. Trust me, I get it. There’s nothing to be ashamed about. You just talk to the Lord and work it out. It’ll be…
Out my window, I gaze upon a church, a pink house, an alarming number of squirrels, and a yard that is often in need of a cut. I count the rabbits that frolic, and pray the stray cats aren’t nearby. I keep a close watch on the weather, because I seem to serve as the local weatherman, and look for my buddy, the black lab, that lives two doors down. I can’t complain about the temperature yet, we’re hovering at a stable 73°. Pollen is present, but it’s raining frequently enough to keep it beat down. The redbuds are in full bloom, the dogwoods are just beginning, and the daffodils are quickly expiring. The birds sing all day long. It’s quiet, for the most part. I’m near the library, and the school, and the police station. It feels safe in my cozy space. It’s not a town where many walk, but I do. Not necessarily to get anywhere in particular, just to enjoy the day while I can. Away from my backyard where I look out at a church, a pink house, and a multitude of squirrels. I go to see the cherry tree, and the red tulips down the road, and the old man at the corner sitting in his lawn chair with his wooden cane and mesh back hat. He always speaks and remarks upon the weather. There goes a rabbit. When the phone…
