Somewhere near to my heart...

A young child learns by touching that the empty shell of a person -- however beautiful -- is hard and cold.

At the same age, I did not yet know that, but I too played a running, skipping game one day at another cemetery.

How thankful, Jesus, I am to you for your words to Martha as she grieved her brother Lazarus' death and burial!

"Your brother shall rise again...

"I am the ressurrection and the life;

he who believes in Me shall live even if he dies,

and everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die.

Do you believe this?"

(John 11:23-26)

the blue barrel...

Sorting through the blue barrel in Grandma's attic brings to memory scenes from "Toy Story" and "Night at the Museum." It animates memories of our younger brothers Steve and Kurt playing games with their friends. It mixes the histories of peoples and nations and eras...warriors and adventurers of every time....metal figures, some sculpted and cast by Steve, colorful plastic figures, some flexible and some brittle and breaking with age...tall ships and covered wagons and torpedo boats, dinosaurs and a plastic arsenal of guns. With these, Grandma's yellowed warning note, "Hands off! (Steve's marionette project.)" as well as Daddy's cast-off reporter's memo book -- first entry dated 18 Sept 1948, a few blank pages nibbled by silverfish...some dust at the bottom of just this one barrel.