When we cross the Grreat Divide at that Big Roundup in the sky and reach the Gate of Judgement, our rationalization-justification for "doing this life my way" is moot.
Who would have thought that humanity would reach the condition it’s in? When we have people wanting their children to take on the role of parents, haven’t we about reached the end? When we have people disrespecting those who provide their freedoms, is there hope? Though the naysayers and goofballs are out there, I hope enough people with common sense and civility stand tall and prevail.
When I hear about adult children disassociating from one another or suing the other(s), I wonder what changed. Was the change in associating due to childhood learning, something after childhood, maybe attitude, philosophy, some emotion or a more telling experience?
If anything’s worth doing well, it’s worth doing.
You can say no or you can say yes. Oh, boy, our choices do have consequences.
The winding ribbon of asphalt dissecting the Chugach and Talkeetna mountains stair-stepped toward the Lion’s Head and beyond. Jagged-razor edged peaks–as well as monstrous marshmallow domes–overlooked the ice encrusted Matanuska River where 2-foot thick ice chunks, undercut by blue-gray water, slumped from her banks, water bubbling through open spots. Back dropped by robin egg sky, the ageless white peaks, parent-like, smiled in approval. And God clapped His hands.
She didn’t see what she was getting into. Which was perfectly normal. She attended a school for the blind. None of the co-eds at my college found me desirable so when I learned about the nearby school, I visited it. We started dating and I convinced her of my desirability after which we married. Because there was hope she could see, I saved money and had a successful operation. It wasn’t long after that she asked me to save money for another surgery–she had seen enough of me and wanted the operation reversed. (Don’t know how many of my former students believed that "tale.")
Like a slow moving, ponderous glacier, snow clings to life, almost laughing at the sun. But it gradually releases its grip, submitting to the day’s heat and warmer night time temperatures. Spring is taking a choke hold and within a few days the white blanket called winter will cease to exist in our yard.
We are all lost until we are found. The One Who rose from the grave seeks us. Happy Easter.