Sunday, November 4, 2012


I awoke early this morning, as usual, the television and my cell-phone current with the community around me, but every other appliance in the house yet operating by yesterday’s time schedule. Some speak of this occurrence in terms of having “gained” an hour, but, if that is so, somehow the mirth escapes me, my mind always remembering it just has to be “paid back” just a few months down the road. There is purpose to the whole affair, I suppose, a few more minutes of light restructured into that portion of our day where we most need it. Something in me, though, never adapts, or, at least, not immediately, my body, seemingly, with its own inner clock and needing to slowly adjust to the new alignment. More than a demand for a mental recalculation of my existence, this goes deeper. A root of who I am requires a bit of space before being able to once again feel comfortable in the soil of this unfamiliar ground… Is there such a spot within all of us, a Genesis Garden of Eden where can be found the original naked seed of our identity, that part of us trapped somehow in the web this world weaves around us and yet aware that life has to be more than what we possess? I think there is; and I’m inclined to believe it the one place where, when we realize He has been standing there knocking at the door all the while, we can connect not only with Him but with each other. It matters not our history, our ethnicity, nor our gender. Life is lot more confusing than trying to remember if it’s “spring forward and fall back” or the other way around. Christ promised, however, that “out of a man’s belly” could flow that which was able to strengthen us for the journey. In Him can be found a rock to anchor us in whatever the storm throws at us……

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