“What to write, Lord?” is usually my Friday morning prayer. This morning, my thoughts are many:
As I woke up, I thought about the relationship between sex and violence. Both penetrate physical boundaries, one in love and one in hatred. Not sure where that thought is going, but the similarity of the opposites intrigues me.
As Jerry and I took our morning walk, Tyler Perry’s comment on Oprah yesterday, about his physically abusive father, came to mind. “If I’d beat you one more time, you could have been president, like Obama.” I’m glad Mr. Perry knows his father is wrong.
Today’s USA Today includes a special supplement about the need for global women’s rights. The right to be physically whole rather than mutilated, the right to be a child rather than a wife, the right to self-determination. Massive pain. Among others, a group called the Elders, including Jimmy Carter and Desmond Tutu, are working on some of these issues.
And the weather is finally breaking in central Illinois. Birds were singing this morning. Walking, we got overheated in our down vests.
Jerry just interrupted me to say, “I know you’re working, but you need to step outside. It’s 60 degrees.” In winter, does spring ever sound too good to be true?
And yet, spring is here today. Snowdrops are blooming. The tiny bit of snow remaining in the front yard from the snowblower pile should clear out by noon.
And, after cancer and cataracts, we’re healthy enough to walk two miles every morning.
And, over it all, amidst the jumble of evil and good that makes up the world, a good Father watches and waits and works.
Father, may we watch and wait and work with you.
