With a hat-tip to Will Smama, I present this blog in this format.
Pretty things.
I find myself gravitating toward them. I received several fun and pretty things for my most recent birthday and I love them all... beautiful chocolates and a hand-painted martini glass among them. It feels self-indulgent to intentionally surround myself with pretty things when the world can be so ugly to so many people, but in the face of such ugliness, beauty helps us survive.
Sighs.
Shared sweetness. Sometimes there's so much to say and so few words with which to say it. The sighs speak where words don't dare and when voices aren't able.
The unexpected.
For the first time in my life I was involved with calling the police because I thought someone would do harm to themselves. I anticipated that at some point in my life as a pastor I would do this; it almost goes with the territory. However, I never expected that it would happen between services on a Sunday morning.
The prayers.
For the woman who didn't want to go home, who couldn't imagine being part of this world anymore, and who is the victim of a sad cycle of abuse.
For my grandmother in ICU hundreds of miles away; recovery from a severe stroke at the age of 96 seems unlikely.
For those whose lives have ended and for those whose lives have just begun.
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