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Septuagesima Sunday
There was snow on the ground this morning, but it was all gone by noon, a quiet rain melting it all down into the winter grass, clearing the way for more on the way overnight. Jinx and I did a fair amount of rambling, and I spent quite a bit of time examining the buds on the bushes and shrubs in the woods. The green is slumbering, but it will awake. Will Arthur ever awake? Or will his England stagger on without him, growing colder and more pecked-apart by the hour? I envy those who have legends. Here, in my haunted South, we have no more legends. We have kudzu-choked…
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What I Most Want
In replying to a comment on one of his recent posts on salvation and Heaven, Bruce Charlton made a very penetrating remark: “In general God grants us what we most want, or a simulacrum of it…” My interior ears pricked up at this phrase because I have been thinking about this very thing for much of the past few days. When it comes to the other side of this life, to Heaven, to what lies beyond, to eternity….what is it that I want? If I believe that my Father will give me the desires of my heart, and if this earthly sojourn serves to shape and refine those desires….where am…