Rainy Days

When I was a teenager in the early 70s, the Carpenters came out with a hit song entitled; “Rainy Days and Mondays”.  Part of the lyrics to the song are; “rainy days and Mondays, always get me down”.  I’ve been thinking about that song because, for the last two days we have been in Washington D.C. visiting and touring the city, it’s been cloudy and rainy…thank God for umbrellas.  The above picture is a photo I took from the high hill on which the Arlington house sets in Arlington National Cemetery.  From this vantage point you have a spectacular view of the city.  In the photo, the Lincoln Memorial is on the far left. The Washington Moment is almost in the center.  Just to the right of it can be seen the Capitol building.  The Jefferson Memorial is to the far right in the picture.  However; what really makes this picture meaningful to me, is that in the foreground at the bottom of the hill you can see some of the grave stones of the brave men and women who gave their lives for their country and for the sake of freedom.  Rainy days of all kinds can indeed dampen our spirits, but when we think about the courage and sacrifice that so many have made and are making, it can’t help but  inspire us as well.  Maybe that’s why at the heart of the Christian faith is a service of remembrance….do this in remembrance of me.         

Which Path Will We Take

This is a photo of a path leading to the beach at Provincetown, MA.  If you take this path you will not only go to the beach on a beautiful sunshiny day in the middle of October, but you will also be able to see the Race Point Lighthouse, (aren’t I a tease-I thought you might be getting tired of seeing lighthouses) which is at the farthest point of the finger of Cape Cod.  In life, there are many different paths that we can take.  Some paths lead to dead ends, or worst yet untold tragedy, while others lead to blessings that we could not have imagined.  It’s no wonder that the Psalmist plea was that God would lead him in the way everlasting.        

Life Is Like A Gristmill

This is a photo of a working gristmill near Longfellow’s Wayside Inn, in Sudbury, MA.  Longfellow made the Inn famous when he wrote; “Tales of a Wayside Inn”.  It seems that after the death of his wife, Longfellow was depressed and battling writer’s block.  He thought that maybe an extended visit to the Wayside Inn would give him the jolt of inspiration he needed to reengage life, and boost his writing career.  He was right.  The gristmill takes the raw wheat and grinds it into flour so it can be used in making bread.  Have you ever heard the expression; “I feel like I’ve been run through a mill”? I’m sure Longfellow must have felt something like that after the death of his wife, and yet out of that trying time in his life came one of his best works.  I think that the grist of what God is doing in our lives is grinding away the shaft, you know the stuff that we thought was so important, but isn’t, and the pride that keeps us from loving one another.  God does this so that we might be blessed, but more importantly so that we might be a blessing to others.  So that our lives might be like living bread, offering nourishment, and comfort to fellow travelers on the road of life.  What better comfort food then a slice (or two) of fresh homemade bread right out of the oven!