My mother shared with me some humorous stories regarding my childhood today.

First, when I was a new baby, and attempting to nurse, my sister (then 3) grabbed tightly ahold of my arm and began squeezing. She squeezed so hard, in fact, that my mother was concerned that the circulation of blood to my hand was being cut off. My mom had to threaten to take away a privilege before my sister would ease up.

Second, when I was in grade school, coming home from sunday school and church, I told my mom what we had been learning about 'cults'. I had a friend who was Mormon (and the Mormons were included in the lesson), and apparently I said something like 'I must tell Kami she is a part of a cult; I must tell her the truth'. Apparently I grew very serious and furrowed my brow. My mother proceeded to tell me that she didn't think that would be such a good idea.

Sometimes I'm just flabbergasted by the speed of thoughts, of tears, of laughter, of words, of images, of affection. And then I grow melancholy. I grow melancholy because I fear my lack of love; I grow melancholy as I realize what treasures await us each gracious moment, and how just as quickly as they are revealed they are buried again. I grow melancholy when I think of things I wanted to say, or should have said, or shared, or prayed, or written.
But, there is joy in all of these things, and ever new delights are given to us: in the people we are given to love and honor, in the merciful hum of each new day dawning, in the dance of light and white dots of night, in the feeding of birds and of the throwing of snow, in cards and calls of 'this is the good I see in you, that God is drawing out of you', in the 'knowing' that is made possible among close friends, of how and why one is feeling.
Oh, to live in gratitude for these things, and not to mourn unduly the loss of what we were given for just a short time. But to celebrate it, and to celebrate the legacies we leave each other.

Lenten thoughts

From Robert Webber's Ancient-Future Time:

Luther captured the meaning of Lenten spirituality when he called upon his followers to 'live in your baptism'.

Today in baptism we may be asked:

Do you renounce Satan and all the spiritual forces of wickedness that rebel against God?

Do you renounce the evil powers of the world, which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God?

Do you renounce all sinful desires that draw you from the love of God?

This last question has been reverberating throughout my mind. How does sin draw us so far away from the God that loves us so lavishly? The sin that weigh our souls down with guilt (both real and false)--the sin our Lord will absolve if we claim our forgiveness and repent? Another prayer Webber cites is a prayer for the Lord to take from me the spirit of sloth--(a laziness that prevents us from choosing a spiritual pilgrimage aimed at overcoming the powers of evil working against us) and faintheartedness (despondency, a negative and pessimistic attitude toward life).

We need to renounce these things with an emphatic Yes! Amen. (Truly.) Somehow, we choose to fight. Fighting to take hold of this love and mercy.