The hand was stretched out before me, palm up.
I searched through my assets, frantically counting up my balances, determining what I could do to satisfy the demand. Nothing. Nothing of substance to present as a token of my credibility, any promises that I would pay when I had the chance mocked and rejected.
And so my collector wiped clean my holdings, picking up every representation of value and worth I had held on to so dearly, handling my goods like they were a hindrance to him. And banished me from the game.
"I'm sorry," my husband says often.
Not because he's done anything wrong, or to offend or hurt me. But just because he can tell I am unsettled, discontent, disappointed at that moment in life in general.
He thinks he has failed because I am not happy all the time, that he needs to wrap me in all the comforts of this life.
One of the lessons of life I've learned from my kids is that you always share your playlists with your friends. I guess it's like swapping cassettes when I was a teen, and then later, making mix tapes for one another. Or, more accurately for me, passing books around among your nerdy outcast squad (which, of course, we didn't call it then, but I like the juxtaposition of old and new there).
Here's an upside down concept: We are mortal creatures. But we have been made in the image of the Divine.
When the Bible uses the word blessing, we can only comprehend it when our framework, our thinking, our wills and our affections have been completely caught up in the ways and power of the One who wrote the Bible. And we can best understanding what it means to be blessed through the words of Jesus at the Sermon on the Mount. (Matthew 5:2-12)
Have you ever seen a snail in action . . . or, rather, inaction?
When I left the house one morning this week, there was a snail on my front sidewalk, its shell glistening in the post-shower sunlight. I wondered where in the world he'd found that shell out here in the fields and forests of western Pennsylvania. A few answers crossed my mind, but I was in a hurry -- an appointment notification was flashing on my phone, and I didn't have time to contemplate Mr. Snail.
A 5-Minute Friday post
I scooped up the spilled dirt and patted it back around the bruised plants that had fallen victim to a furry vandal's frenzied search for treasure.
"Obnoxious little varmints. This is why we can't have nice things. All this mess and destruction for a few errant bird seeds that you just can't live without," I muttered under my breath to the absent bandits, those masked critters with ringed tails that come out at night and wreak havoc in our neighborhood.
A 5-Minute Friday post
I walked into the kitchen and found a sink full of dishes. It wasn’t how I planned to start my day.
I woke up this morning and checked my investment portfolio. It's something I do as often as I can to gain insight about my holdings.
The indicative inspires and motivates the imperative, says the theologian. “Be [the imperative] who you are [the indicative].”
A syllogism is a logic construct stating two propositions and drawing a conclusion from terms shared by both. “All dogs are canine. Fido is a dog. Therefore Fido is a canine.”
Opportunities come and go in our lives. Most poignantly, they happen in small slices of time. A moment’s hesitation and a job prospect is gone. One second more and that car would have sideswiped you. The phone sounds its last ring and you grab it in time to hear the apology you've been praying for. You crest the hill at exactly the same moment the sunset sky reaches its most glorious and spectacular release of color and light.
Laura England Miller