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And About The Ninth Hour…
It is now three p.m. here, the ninth hour of the day if reckoned by the timekeeping of the earthly days of our Lord Jesus Christ. Either He died as the holy apostles have told us, or He did not. It was either accomplished for us, or it was not. His followers are either the most wretched of all men, or we are not. This is not the hour for arguments or syllogisms or debate. This is the hour when I am compelled to whisper, “Lord, remember me when Thou shalt come into Thy kingdom. Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief. Lord, increase my faith. Lord Jesus, receive my…
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Late, Maundy Thursday
Jinx and I just went out into the back yard for his final restroom break of the night, and we were surprised to step out into snow. The porch and grass were covered in white powder, but it is clearing because the stars were shining down , one of the last of those cold, clear nights that I will miss when the weather finally warms and the air is less crisp, less sharply defined. I think I’ve neglected to mention recently that I am growing potatoes this year. In old automobile tires. This is a technique I’ve heard about for years, one that has been recommended to me by many…
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The Third Sunday in Lent
My Old Farmer’s Almanac tells me that today marks the beginning of the hummingbirds’ migration north. The little wonders will arrive here and we will have their feeders ready for them, and our hearts will be glad to see them, and we will enjoy their company morning and evening as they swoop past and talk to us with their whirrs and squeaks. Speaking of birds, I have neglected to mention that we have a lovely little screech owl living in our barn. She was perched on the limb of the maple out back the other night when I was outside with Jinx, and she flew closer to the house and…