A lovely morning thus far. About to drive off to church, but grateful for a few minutes now to meditate and muse on what most brings me hope and joy. This morning woke up and went for a walk, enjoying(??) the humidity and heat that is standard fare for August here. Still yet, it was a beautiful time of walking and thinking and watching all the people on their early morning runs and dog-walks. Got to chat with Dad for a few minutes on the return leg and then back I arrived at home, sweaty and pleasantly weary. Now I’m all showered up and have had a lovely few minutes reading as a new candle burns and a symphony plays on the TV. Within twenty minutes or so, shall step out the door and once more feel August’s warm affections as we leave for church. But now? Why am I just spinning my wheels talking about the mundanities of life? Well firstly because even the mundane every day tasks of life can be beautiful, can they not? I’m grateful for what my God has given me, even little things like walks and showers. Secondly? Because I do want to talk about deeper things but sometimes I feel I must approach them circumspectly as I’m at times uneasy of my skill to properly address that which matters most.

So now as the minutes flee and I soon will run out of time, I suppose I won’t say much more about what burns in my heart, except to say that I enjoyed some precious minutes reading in John today, some of my favourite verses. Reading about the trial and death of Jesus and then the response of some of his followers. Peter initially quavered and crumbled and denied his teacher. Others stood by him to the end even as they wept. Still others who had hidden their allegiance came out after his death to preserve and memorialize his body and his name. And then on that glorious day whose memory still reverberates in the heavens and the earth? Peter returned to his Lord and marveled at the fact that something had happened that he didn’t quite understand. John approached more cautiously but still yet he was there. And Mary? Oh Mary she was there at the beginning and at the end, as the men rushed around and in their haste rushed off again while she stayed behind at that garden tomb and wept and thought and I’m sure prayed. And then she saw something miraculous – angelic beings in all their brightness and she found herself overcome and in her sorrow and her wonder she heard a voice that said her name. And what response did she have? What response should any of have in such a circumstance? She rushed to Jesus and clung to Him, crying as she held on tight. Oh how I wish I could cling to the feet of Jesus and hear him speak to me as he spoke to Mary that day. Some day, some day soon. Even though I have not seen him, I believe in Him and joy unspeakable fills my heart and I glory in the fact that someday my eyes shall see his face.