This coil of barbed wire makes me think of the crown of thorns. A mockery of the victory wreath. A King of pain and sorrows. Following Christ, being aligned with him, means stepping into the path of suffering. Of sacrifice, and crude disrespect. Not being able to see justice in this lifetime, perhaps. I will always chafe against that. That is the crossroads of whether I have faith or not. When it really comes down to it, will I choose the path that Jesus trod, because it is right? Or will I just spare my body and avoid the shame? My whole life is a series of small choices (some good, some not) but I take with me all I've learned as I head toward greater courage and discernment for the next crossroads. The next road of cross. Where in my heart of hearts, only He and I will decide which path is mine to take.
In the meantime, I enjoy each little thing and am surprised by the cloud patterns over the Inn, the seed pods of grass, the lilac of the dawn and the golden glow of sun. All is quiet and here is where peace must be stored for a time a panic to come.
This is Canadian Thanksgiving weekend. I love that I get to celebrate two Thanksgivings every year. I think we will lie low and have casual, unplanned fun -- like spontaneous stories and kid charades. I long to make pie (STILL, I know) and Dave will want his sweet potatoes. He's not feeling well right now. You can see it in his face. He lacks color and verve. Hopefully this weekend of rest and connection will fill him up and heal him too.
Weston has been such a helper recently. I really see the organizer spirit in him. Classic Gold personality! Wow. He not only loves to do a task his way, he wants to stick with it till it's done! Hallelu! We've canned 14 jars of tomatoes now and next week we'll do some more. I'll blog on that later when I get some pics.
