I’ve been distracted, lately (to put it mildly), by one of those unavoidable tribulations of life.
Without getting too much into private details, I’ve had to have my last surviving aunt transferred to a nursing home. This is something we prayed would never happen, but now it has.
She is the last of my family in her generation. When she goes, I’ll be the oldest one left–and who ever thinks he’s going to be that?
My mother had five sisters, so I was richly blessed with aunts. Two married, one became a nun, and three stayed together at their father’s house, where they were born. One by one they died. The house had to be sold. It has since been torn down. My aunt received the best care available for as long as possible. But now it’s no longer possible to take care of her outside of a nursing home.
We could not live without God’s grace. But then without God’s grace we never would have been created in the first place.
Normalcy is a good thing. Writing is the work I asked the Lord to give me to do, and He granted my prayer. So I will do it, to the best of my ability, every day if possible, for as long as I can.
God goes with us into the Valley of the Shadow. And one way or another, He will bring us out of it, and into the light.
Readers, please bear with me: normal service will soon be restored. If the next few posts aren’t up to snuff, don’t go away–there’s plenty in the Archives.