Sunday Scripture

"God, brilliant Lord, yours is a household name. Nursing infants gurgle choruses about you; toddlers shout the songs that drown out enemy talk, and silence atheist babble.

I look up at your macro-skies, dark and enormous, your handmade sky-jewelry, moon and stars mounted in their settings.

Then I look at my micro-self and wonder, why do you bother with us? Why take a second look our way?

Yet we've so narrowly missed being gods, bright with Eden's dawn light. You put us in charge of your handcrafted world, repeated to us your Genesis-charge, made us lords of sheep and cattle, even animals out in the wild, birds flying and fish swimming, whales singing in the ocean deeps.

God, brilliant Lord, your name echoes around the world. " Psalm 8 The Message

When violence hits home

For six days it laid, submerged in water, inside our washing machine. I'd put it in to soak after promising to work wonders using my many years of laundering skills. After all, it is his favorite shirt. Our son, that is.

A mixture of mud, blood, and grass stains eclipsed the once crisp clean blue checked cotton material. I've laundered all of those things out in the past. Just never all at once.

Soaking seemed to be a good place to start. In addition to helping to loosen the stains it provided a quick way to get the soiled shirt out of our sight. I'd forgotten it was there until I began my pre-weekend housework.