I’ll never forget my first Thanksgiving away from home. After only a few months of work, I was promoted to an assignment in the home office; told to report, bright and early, on the first Monday of November. The year was 1963, and my career was off to a good start.
Wheat and barley might have made for great bread in Biblical times, according to Ezekiel 4:9, but my doctor says that I can’t eat it. Today’s wheat is yet another of the many genetically modified food products in our diets and while many enjoy wheat, for me, it’s poison. But it wasn’t always that way. I was fine in 2003. Everyone was happy and well, even my business, by then over 20 years old, had turned the corner …
Today was to be a big day. It was to be the release of the first chapter of my new book. But I’m choosing to wait.
I’ve got good news – our dog pulled me out of my hole. But now I’m worried because she’s led me into one that could be worse. She’s telling me to write a book. Special Pup knows all about my hole; it’s a hole about writing these stories and needing to think up a new one each week. After all, she’s been hearing about them her entire life. That’s why, when I brought this whole thing up, she kept quiet for a while …
I am always amazed and appreciative of the gifts my friends possess. These stories each have happy endings because they’re about friends with gifts, helping friends. What are your gifts?
The weather in the early morning hours has been pleasant for the last few weeks, so I’ve been going outside for my morning meditation. It will begin waning now, but that’s not why, on this morning, I stayed inside. I switched on the light beside my favorite chair and settled in with my first cup of coffee. After a few sips, I picked up the neglected book that holds my daily meditations; they’re each short and help me focus my thoughts.
Our children grew up with public television. The dial on the TV was set to The Electric Company, Zoom, Sesame Street, and Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood. Mr. Rogers was about kindness and love. And that bothered me.
I enjoyed watching the royal wedding on TV last month. I was glued to the beautiful bride in her Cinderella dress standing beside her handsome Prince Charming groom on that Saturday morning. Meghan and Harry’s stunning ceremony had all the regal traditions I expected – with one thing added. The globally televised union gave me a reminder of the meaning of love. Not just the love between husband and wife, but the unconditional love God has for all his children.
The date has been set. October 14, 2018 has been chosen by the Vatican as the day for the canonization of the slain Salvadoran archbishop, Oscar Arnulfo Romero. When Romero was hand picked by the church and state to lead El Salvador’s faithful, it was assumed he would merely maintain the status quo of this country where Roman Catholic rituals permeate every corner of society. The Archbishop’s messages began to change over his three years, as more homilies started speaking of a new way. A way where change could happen sooner; an idea that the meek shouldn’t need to wait until death to inherit the earth.
Tattoos are everywhere – it seems like everyone has one these days. With all this ink, I’ve been wondering what’s behind the rising trend. Maybe people are getting tattoos because they have a need to fit in with the quarter of our population who “get it” the tattooed. So does this ancient tradition have a place in my life? That’s what I’m trying to decide as I think about my choice in getting my first tattoo.