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A Different Sort of Saturday

The day began muggy and cloudy. And stayed muggy even after the sun showed up. If that was the only different thing about our day in May, there would be nothing much to ponder tonight.

But there are things to ponder. I can’t be specific for reasons of privacy. The unexpected incidents by themselves on a different day a year ago would hardly have been noted. I guess we’re still fragile. Shaken, again. Lisl calls it being re- traumatized.

Tea, at home, this evening with music and cool air, felt nice. Honestly, nothing that happened today was sin. We’ll both be fine by morning.

I ponder though how a person can carry the hidden wound of sin’s sorrow, day after day, year by year? This weighs on me at the end of a day like today. I can’t imagine. I can’t. Think how Jesus who knows all hearts must feel. He died for it all.

So, I’m grateful for blue flowers that bloom in May, and for the yellow ones, dandelions, too. And for pretty tea things. For the Promises. And for prayer. Being tired, too. It’s good. Tomorrow’s another day. Dear God, please bless everyone’s Sunday. In Jesus name. Goodnight.

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