Once again, the thunder and the lightning remind us of the flash and bang of war.
The smell of roasting steaks and ribs. . .
The memories of those long gone. . .
The hope of peace yet to be.
Maybe we should remember those who died in the struggle for peace.
The simple smiles when everyone was jeering. . .
The gentle word when everyone was snarling. . .
The hopeful word when everyone was frightened. . .
The trusting word when there was no trust.
Watch carefully as they assemble their services. . .
celebrating another kingdom - quite of this world.
Listen hopefully as you hear the trumpets of the real kingdom. . .
blowing softly in the breezes, moved along by angels' wings.
As I sit here and listen to the playful banter of Benjamin and Joshua, I think of the days that Ashley and I would run all around the yard at Grandma and Granddaddy's and the smell of steaks always brings back the memories of Uncle Paul grilling out steaks and hollaring about how much salad was left for everyone!
ReplyDeleteThose were the days!
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