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Religion

  • A surprising bell-ringer rings in Christmas

    It was a balmy day — great for shopping. I had an itch to update my wardrobe that needed to be scratched. Coupons in hand, I persuaded Hubby Dear to drive to Belk. As usual, with book in hand, he opted to wait patiently in the car while I made my way through the markdowns.

  • Advent is pregnant with life, laboring with expectancy
  • Don’t just do something. Stand there!

    A friend told me he once had a T-shirt emblazoned with the command: “Don’t just do something. Stand there!” I’ll bet some folks thought he got it at a discount, because the message was skewed. At the very least, it must have caused a second look ... even a second thought.

  • Are we being hijacked on the sea of life?
  • Faithfulness is empowered when we hold hands

    Holding hands is such a simple delight. We grasp the pleasure from the time we were tiny tots, holding our parents’ hands as we tottered beside them, matching each step as best we could. To let go was frightening, until we discovered that release simply meant we could extend our hands to others.

  • Prepositions are powerful

    Hubby Dear has often expounded on the unfortunate propensity of some speakers to place emphasis on prepositions instead of their accompanying nouns, pronouns and phrases. I listened, learned, and tried hard never to land largely on those long-suffering linking words. I softly spoke each with, to, through, of, in, at, around, near — and all their gentle relatives — saving my voice and fervor for their companions!

  • Is Halloween All Hallows’ Eve or a time of superstition?

    Halloween has always been an intriguing day for me. The intrigue is not limited to it being the anniversary of my grandson’s birth! Typically, I don’t festoon our house with gauzy webs or hanging skeletons. There are no carved pumpkins bearing flickering candles to light a ghostly path. It’s not that I am against the customs. I am simply not a house decorator. It allows me to find great joy in gazing at my neighbor’s decorations.

  • Sending a promise to Bonnie Joy, with love

    It began as an ordinary day. There were errands to run, chores to complete, exercise to accomplish. Writing awaited and there was a funeral to attend. Oh ... and there was the newly minted pink streak painted in my hair. I wanted to show my friends what my hairdresser had cajoled me into doing, with the promise I’d be “gorgeous.” My mind raced to arrange a priority list. When all had been checked off, I’d know a sense of fulfillment. Life would be worthwhile.

  • ‘The Art of Pausing’ leaves time for reflection

    Interestingly, I belong to Poetry Revisited, a group of poets who have recently acquired a taste for haiku as part of their repertoire. When confronted with the challenge to write in this style, I balked. Too few words, I mused, were used to present complicated ideas. Not surprisingly, challenges whet my appetite. Computer keys at the ready, I began sharpening my skill, trying hard to believe that less is more. Serendipitously, “The Art of Pausing” arrived for my perusal and review. It gave new meaning to my efforts.

  • The four-way test is based on Rotary values

    Papers in hand, questions in mind, Hubby Dear and I drove to our local insurance agency to verify the contents of our policy, hoping to reduce the cost while maintaining adequate coverage. In his usual manner, H.D. engaged the agent — who, fortunately, is also a friend — in conversation. One area melded into another and yet another until he happened upon involvement with the Rotary Club, an area with which he was not experienced.