A Hymn & Postcard of Gratitude

Gratitude is the first verse of my hymn. I'm insisting on that, no matter what comes next.

The news of a young friend's death coincides with moving a forty year-old father of three into a hospice room. 

His mother tells me she still believes in God, more than ever, but she and He will have a "good talk" when they meet face to face. 

It is Spring again.

There’s a new baby. 

Old friends celebrate big birthdays. 

(Mercy, always Mercy is the refrain) 

Rain and sun. Daffodils and skunk cabbage. Hooligans. Crying gulls and roaring sea lions.

A whale!

(There must be a verse for Love)  

Community celebrations, community arguments, crowded meetings, and solitary prayers.

(And one for Forgiveness)

Monday dawns with earthquakes. Seriously strong.

(What about a bass drum?)

The ground shook. We braced ourselves in the bed. This is lasting a long time, you said. Should we run? I asked. Then it  stopped, and were wide awake.

 6.3 you read on the iPad. That would have leveled a village in Italy. 

Our home. Our town. Our neighbors, are all unscathed.

( Hear that gratitude descant?)  

What should we do now?

Go for a ride.

Wear a helmet, and goggles if you need them.

Look both ways.

 Buckle Joy into her car seat.

Sing with me, she says. Please sing a new song. 

(Joyful hymns to thee we raise)




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