December 9, 2013

Long Sunday, full of singing. Someday I will look back on such as the perfect days.

Not perfect for everyone. During break at Cantaria, B passed out at the top of the steps and fell resoundingly. The EMTs were called. An on-the-spot diagnosis was a broken tibia, Whatever it was, we could hear him groaning through the closed door. B emails this AM to say he's all right, and unbroken, a sweet levity in his message.

Thomas’ sermon made the wheat-from-the-chaff prophesy of John make sense for the first time. I used to think the wheat and the chaff were different people. He made me see that John means the grown-out-of parts and the fulfillment of the same people.

Early to bed, early to rise, with an entire workday between me and noon.