If The Painter's Pallet

If the painter's pallet

Could contain the hues

Of Fall's transitions

Among the trees,

Would artist's brush

Bespeak the subtleties

Of Divine revelation

Once hidden in

Summer's majesty?

I Walked In the Woods Today

I walked in the woods today

As timber floor takes on Winter coat

From trees, whose shaded visage,

Gives way to glorious sky.

I walked in the woods today

And, there, journeyed

with God.

Hugs

Our youngest son, Ched, played his last high school soccer game yesterday evening. It wasn't expected to be their last, but they lost in the Sectionals to an area team. A great game, but a lousy outcome for our team. As he walked off of the field, he headed towards his mother and me. Hugs are very much a part of our family: we share them when we meet and we share them as we part . . . and any time in between, just for good measure.

Ched hugged his mother, then he walked over and hugged me. No words, just a hug.

Our youngest son. His last soccer game. A hug as he walked off of the field for the very last time. Those images stayed with me over night then, this morning as he came out to the kitchen to make his breakfast, he gave me a 'good morning hug'. Again, no words, just a hug.

It was at that moment it occurred to me:

"You can never count hugs, only treasure them."

In the course of life we never know when hugs will diminish or cease all together, making the hugs we receive all the precious. Whether walking off of the soccer field, in the kitchen for breakfast, meeting after a prolonged absence, as seeing each other on a daily basis, the hugs we share are our gift to each other to bind us up in strength and love till next we hug again.

It would have been nice to win the game, but I would never trade the hugs of our children for a game that would soon be forgotten. Thanks for the hug, Ched.

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don