Frail

Earlier this year the wife of our neighbor who has a house that borders ours in the back died of cancer. He is alone now and I often stare out of our kitchen window to the lit house and wonder what he is thinking about.

We went to the funeral and, upon exiting the car, my wife whispered "This sucks." "Yes," I answered, "we are but dust."

A gentleman we know very well and who is a member of the church we worship and serve with fell and broke his nose. He had a rather interesting story about how they fixed it, but he slept through the whole thing as he was under general anesthesia.

How frail we are. There should be no wonder why I, as a child of Light, long for home. This was not the way is was supposed to be. Not even close.