For As Long As You Remember Me,

We Find By Losing. We Hold Fast By Letting Go. We Become Something New By Ceasing To Be Something Old.

It's Not As If I Knew Answers Which I Am Going To Set Down In The Form Of A Novel Or A Memoir Or A Sermon. It's, Rather, I'm Going To Search Myself For What I Might Have To Say In This Area.

Lord, Catch Me Off Guard Today. Surprise Me With Some Moment Of Beauty Or Pain So That At Least For The Moment, I May Be Startled Into Seeing That You Are Here In All Your Splendor, Always And Everywhere, Barely Hidden, Beneath, Beyond, Within This Life I Breathe.

Like A House In The Rain, Books Were Havens Of Permanence And Protection From Whatever It Was That As A Child I Needed Protection From.

They Are Prepared For A God Who Strikes Hard Bargains But Not For A God Who Gives As Much For An Hour's Work As For A Day's. They Are Prepared For A Mustard-seed Kingdom Of God No Bigger Than The Eye Of A Newt But Not For The Great Banyan It Becomes With Birds In Its Branches Singing Mozart. They Are Prepared For The Potluck Supper At First Presbyterian But Not For The Marriage Supper Of The Lamb.