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Fourth Sunday in Advent
I was thinking today about the year when we didn’t think we’d have a Christmas. We saw my daddy between two and four times a year. One of those visits was always between Thanksgiving and Christmas. He would show up and slam his truck door loud enough for us to hear it, and my sister and I would run outside to greet him. He would stand there, fists on hips, that devious, smiling, lean, dishonest devil of a father, laughing that completely delighted laugh of his, his weather-bronzed face split by an enigmatic smile, and scoop us up in his arms and swing us around as he loped to the…
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Sorrows Of The Day
“Each present joy or sorrow seems the chief.” William Shakespeare I hadn’t seen them in months, and today when we met, I was so unsettled at their appearance, I had to force myself to maintain a benign smile. He is about my age, and his wife just a few years younger. They were once an outgoing and pleasant couple, ready with smiles and laughter and jests. But first he, then she, fell into the maw of modern medicine, and now farther down that road, they have both endured debilitating strokes and other ravages that have left them quiet and staring. They both stared into my face today, watching me with…
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Third Sunday in Easter
On certain days, when the sun lifts into the sky, the first rays travel across to the copse of trees across the road from our house, where they light on the center of the trees and ignite them in morning splendor. Yesterday, I happened to look outside just as this happened and was able to get a picture of it. The picture of course does not capture the deep beauty of the true moment, but it does communicate a certain surface element of the beauty. Sometimes when I scuff along the graveled lanes that twist around our farm, I feel blind to what is around me, so intent am I…