I see Mr. Castro has perished. May God grant him something or other. Mercy? And maybe a pinch of Justice. Although I never like to wish God’s justice on anyone, me most of all.
We survived a glorious thanksgiving dinner on Thursday. Matt out did himself in the matter of the turkey and the gravy and the brussle sprouts and I feel still, two days later, as if I would like to never eat anything ever again.
As for Black Friday, I wandered about and gathered up a few items. Some candles. A replacement lion for Romulous after his had been destroyed by Posie Kylo Ren. And it may be that I found a really nice pair of Italian leather shoes at Alice’s Closet. Gosh I love it when rich people get rid of their stuff.
Anyway, today I have to do laundry and clean and pop over to church and dig around through my advent box looking for candles for all my classrooms. Matt is headed off to the hospital to pray for someone in dire straights.
Really, the boundary between death and life is too flimsy, too easily breached. Whether it’s Fidel Castro or me or anyone, the unavoidability of death is alarming. Which is why I am so keen on advent, on the concrete action God took to overturn the darkness and restore the possibility of life. One candle at a time, one person at a time, one moment at a time he undoes and unravels the violence, the injustice, the cruelty of our humanity.
And now I will arise and push back the dirt and grime out of this house, praying that the whole world doesn’t rejoice when I finally meet my maker, but is instead sad, grieved, full of the hope of the resurrection.
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