The Fifth Sunday in Lent

My plans to write a nice, full blog post tonight have gang agley. I spent all day yesterday and a good chunk of this afternoon working outside, taking advantage of the gorgeous weather and making hay while the sun shone. And now it’s all a-ketchin’ up with me. All in all, I wish I’d merely walked seven miles home. But nooooooo. I had to perform the rural equivalent of digging to China.

My eyes are crossing as I try to type these words, and my natural force is definitely abating. The one thing I did want to mention before sleep claims me is that tonight marks one year since Jinx returned to us. His dubious owner had come and claimed him some days before, leaving me melancholy and adrift in the evenings. But on the night of 21 March 2020, in a powerful thunderstorm, we heard a dog bark outside the front door.

“Do you think that was Jinx?” asked Mrs. Orr.

“I don’t think so,” I said.

We opened the door, and there he was, soaking wet and wagging his tail so hard he was about to dislocate it. And he’s been here ever since.

I’m grateful for JInx for many reasons, not the least of which is his help with yard work. He does tend to get a bit carried away with the chainsaw, but he means well, and has a marvelous work ethic.

Perhaps tomorrow, if I’m not in traction in the ICU, I will write a more coherent blog post. Perhaps I’ll get caught up on my personal correspondence as well…it’s a Matterhorn right now. In the meantime, my dear friends, rest well and may Christ the Lord bless you and hear your sincere prayers to Him.

~ S.K. Orr