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The Breath of Life

Life is like the sweet aroma of a flower. (Does that sound like something Forrest Gump would say?)  As with the most fragrant of flowers, life may vanish before we have the sense to breathe it in!

Still, if you knew that sweetness could disappear so quickly, wouldn’t you savor the aroma for as long as possible? Wouldn’t you want to jealously press the sensual pleasure of it deep into the recesses of your brain?

In yesterday’s post, I juxtaposed the wonder of new life (my baby grandson) with the untimely death of a young woman. Each time I gaze into my grandson’s bright blue eyes, I’m struck by the same realization:  life goes by too fast!

When a young person dies, my mind bubbles over with questions. If I could see into the future, would that awareness change my life? What if I knew the baby in my arms:

  • Would never live to celebrate his or her eighteenth birthday?
  • Might grow to adulthood but reject the foundational things I’d taught him or her?
  • Might grow to adulthood and live wisely and well? Continue Reading →

Displaying God’s Handiwork

Over the last month or so, I’ve had the privilege of being one member of the tag-team who cares for my four-month-old grandson, HSO. cropped picWhen his mama and daddy resumed their jobs, they knew there would be a handful of days each month when their schedules would necessitate outside help. Sure, they could’ve exiled the little guy to Miss Marple’s, impersonal but handy, wipe-and-dipe corner day-care pen. (The truth is, I’d never let that happen to one of my grandchildren!)

So the other day I’m ensconced in an easy chair with this delightful little Creature in my lap. He’s drinking milk from his bottle, pausing momentarily to smile and flirt with me. And I’m reflecting on how amazing and precious and innocent he is. I’m contemplating all the similar thoughts that filled my head when my own four children were this age. While the Babe blissfully enjoys his meal, I’m quietly thanking God for this Gift and praying for the man he is to become. Continue Reading →

One of My Heroes . . . RIP

Today is my Daddy’s birthday. Were he alive, Norman would be celebrating 88 years.

My dadHe was the first man who won my heart. He wasn’t a perfect man, but he loved my mother and did his best to provide her and their children a good life. Never having finished the eighth grade, he made his way with hard work and perseverance.

Norman served in the Army in World War II, one of the many who landed (and survived) on the beaches at Normandy. The emotional trauma of D-Day took its toll and he suffered what (in those days) was termed a “nervous breakdown.” Refusing to be sent home, he received hospital treatment and drove a supply truck back and forth to the front lines until the War ended. Continue Reading →

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