- Church Life, Daily Life, Holy Days, I Never Thought I'd Be In This Situation, Photographs, Prayers, Reflections
Easter Sunday
The sun will set in a little while, and another holy day will be memory and history. We sat outside as much as we could today, but the brisk breeze kept forcing us to retreat inside. Sitting directly in the sun helped a bit, but it was still chilly, so we didn’t get as many outdoor hours as we had hoped. The dogs romped and rolled in the grass, and the birds were so numerous and so active, we were in awe. We watched all day for a hummingbird — a year ago today, we got our first hummingbird of the spring –but none ever appeared. We had a fine…
- Bluebelle, Church Life, Daily Life, Dixee, Holy Days, Jinx, Movies, Mrs. Orr, Paintings, Photographs, Prayers, Reflections
Maundy Thursday
Tomorrow is already Good Friday, and what a wonder it is to be this far along in the year already. Our weather has been quite warm, and we had to actually break down and put on the air conditioning last night after the sun baked the house all day long. I am enjoying the lack of pain in the joints, but I will confess that both Mrs. Orr and I sleep better in the colder weather. We both tossed and turned a lot last night due to the closeness of the room, even though we did have the fan on. It’s supposed to be cooler the next three days, and…
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Holy Saturday, Night
We walked together, Jinx and I. At dawn and in the warmth of the day and at its close. We marveled at the same colors and listened to the same songs. And now we are with Mrs. Orr and Dixee, all of us in the same room, a fire’s flames curling up behind the stove’s glass on the night of the day known as 4-3-21. A countdown day. The dogwoods will not blossom tomorrow after all. Perhaps later in the week. The buds are larger and fuller, but they are not ready for Easter. They have their own timetable, they listen to their own music, singing in the sap that…
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Easter, A.D. 2020
Easter, A.D. 2020 So this is what legacy looks like The offspring of those who raised hymns while lions Tore their holy flesh now cower within Their antiseptic catacombs, heroes Devouring the crumbs of Nero’s hourly updates. Will they write epistles on toilet paper? Will they anoint themselves with hand sanitizer? They may as well — such empty sacramentals Well depict the razed rubble of faith. ~ S.K. Orr