AdventPhotos 2018 – Night

5 12 2018

 

Is his law of love and gospel of peace for only one night?  Are we all equal on just one night?  Can every night be a holy night?





AdventPhotos 2018 – Watch

3 12 2018


 I haven’t felt great today, so I’ve hung out in bed; watching TV.  I’ve also been on the phone, dealt with some insurance stuff, done some reading and writing, handled emails & texts, and surfed social media while watching TV.   I could tell you some of the stuff I watched, but I know I missed more than I caught.

When I decided to eat something a little bit ago what I wanted was a soft-boiled egg.  Now, I’m pretty flexible on most things food-related, but I want perfection when it comes to a soft-boiled egg.  It needs to have a completely set white with the yolk just begining to set around the edges, slightly thickened, but still loose enough to sauce over the white.  It’s a very precise process.  At the moment the 1/2″ of water comes to a boil I slip the egg in, cover, allow to boil/steam for 6 minutes and 30 seconds then immediately plunge the egg into iced water for 10 seconds, and eat at once.  However, if at any point in the 6:30 I’m not seeing steam escape around the edges of the lid I know I’ve had the heat up too high, or let it boil for too long before covering, and my pan has gone dry – this is bad.  It will crack the shell, not only ruining any chance at a perfect egg, but making a mess in my pan.  Once I decide to make the perfect soft-boiled egg there is no sitting down to check email, or running downstairs to switch out the laundry, or loading the dishwasher…(ask me how I know,) I’ve got to watch my egg.  So I do.  I stand right there, in front of the stove, watching my egg.  

I guess I watch differently when it’s something that matters to me.





AdventPhotos 2018 – Journey

2 12 2018

 This afternoon a group of kids from our church sang Christmas carols and passed out little Christmas crafts to the residents of an extended care facility in our community.  I had some delightful conversations with those attending today, but one in particular has stayed in my mind.  She appeared to be one of the more senior ladies there, I would guess well into her nineties, and from her wheelchair she watched one of our little girls, Lucy, standing just a few feet away.  She complimented her pretty blue dress then squeezed my hand and said wistfully, “it all goes so fast.”  As I looked at her, looking at a little girl, I sensed that in that moment, in her mind, the journey from childhood to old age probably felt as though it had taken no more time than it would have taken for Lucy to step from where she stood to where we sat. 

I think I’ll slow my steps a little through this Advent season.  I think I’ll savor the journey a little more.