Round and round she went in an endless display of
energy. Her voice insisted that she be
watched. 'Look at me Pastor Dean,' she shouted. So I did. I even picked up a
skateboard and joined her. Around we went. She threw
back her head with abandon and laughed the laugh that only a 5 year old can laugh. I had interrupted her supper, a mighty fine
supper, but she didn’t care. Half eaten steak, potatoes and green beans were carelessly strewn about her plate, forgotten in the house, forgotten in the moment. Right now life was
meant to be celebrated on a skateboard.
Beagle slipped into the house unnoticed and was
soon discovered standing on the kitchen table wolfing down a neglected half eaten steak. We all pretended to be angry with him, but
nothing could spoil the moment. Smoors
were waiting to be melted over the coals of a small fire still burning brightly.
Evening was young. There was life to be
squeezed out of each precious moment as bedtime loomed just around the corner. I think God is like that. Jesus is coming back. Maybe at bedtime! There is not a moment to spare!
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