As I write this, we watch today’s news about the horrors in Boston. We learned about the bombing late today; we just returned home from a family funeral about two hours away. The sudden death of a cousin brought family members together for a day at a rural Texas church and cemetery. It’s a land of hard work, cattle, hay, and barbed wire, one different than the country life we enjoy.
On the way home, we drove by John’s old family homestead, today only a pasture. These lilies, planted decades ago by John’s mother, had just bloomed after last week’s rain. Entwined with the barbed wire and briars, they seemed a good reminder today that goodness and beauty will always thrive…
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