It’s been a month since the surgery.
Between March 12th and April 12th a lot’s happened and pretty much all of it without me.
Life never sits back and waits while we nurse a knee, pause to ponder, or sit a spell to catch our breath.
Lent’s over until next year, so’s Easter and Opening Day for the Red Sox.
Our book group read Joan Chittister’s The Gift of Years and concluded the obvious: We’re all getting older and aging doesn’t always feel like a gift but every moment of Life is.
People died, like Charles Austin. Charlie and I co-emceed Congress in Boston for several years. He, with his deep voice and schooled broadcasting ways became known as The Eagle and I, the Sparrow. Charlie’d remind me, “His Eye is on the Sparrow.” Charlie’s now singing with Ethel Waters, the one who introduced the song to me.
It’s a good song to sing when tempted to give up.
“Why should I feel discouraged, why should the shadows come, why should my heart be lonely and long for heav’n and home, when Jesus is my portion? My constant Friend is He. His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me.”
What I know and how I feel aren’t always in sync.
But God still shows up, reminding me (and you) not to worry.
“Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds.” (Matthew 6 The Message)
Then there’s Maggie’s Easter card:
Happy Easter! I love you! You are the best Grandma ever! Just as Jesus rose from the dead, you will rise from the cane! ”
Springtime’s for soaring.
I hear Charlie, “Can I hear an amen?!”
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