Just ate a fresh tomato from the garden. Ilove eating little tomatoes just picked from the plant. Coco is laying next to me while Jim and Scout run an errand.
Thanksgiving and pain run down the same river. A fisherman walks into the water, sets life bait on a hook and casts the reel. The fisherman feels a strong tug on the line and begins reeling the fish in. The fish doesn't lay there - that fish fights for its very life. Sometimes he wins and works his way off the hook. Other times the fish fights and loses the battle - winding up on the fisherman's table. There is pain, there is thanksgiving. We are standing in that river, feeling pain. Yes, we give thanks, but this thank you has a hook. It comes at a very, very high price. Not monetarily. The cost of a soul.
I am not Paul, I'm not at the point of uttering these words and and meaning them. "Count it all joy, my friends, when you encounter suffering"... Perhaps I need to wade a bit farther into the river, out of the shaded areas, but not in the full sunshine as the glare of that is blinding on a river. I need to find that place where shade and sun come together - the place of greatest clarity
I still believe there is hope. For the rest of my life I believe this.