One day long ago I was there. Now I am here. It will be like that when our world emerges from this strange time. One day we will remove the masks and let them fall to the ground. One day it will all be different. Maybe like the old days, slower, quieter. Maybe more people will think of fewer things and rest and rely on something besides what we see, hear, and are told to believe. It will be as different as flight is from walking, as removed from the dust as a wide winged bird ascending to the clouds.
Sunday, August 16, 2020
Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress;
instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle;
and it shall make a name for the Lord,
an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.
Sometimes we expect one thing, but get another.