Good Bread and Neighbors

Chef Carolina is preparing dinner for us tonight to honor her Dad’s recent birthday. When we get home from the beach we will walk in to a personalized gourmet feast. And thanks to our wonderful neighbors, I have something worthy to contribute: homemade sourdough bread that arrived on our cabin threshold early this morning.

Be Like a Child

Another favorite retirement assignment: “doorperson” for Godly Play—a.k.a. Sunday School—with the primary kids on Palm Sunday. One six-year-old taught me how to rename myself on Zoom. Another how to frame myself in a t.v. They are fabulous, patient teachers. My hotspot connection was splotchy today but the love connection was full-strength.    


We’re here at the beach, after arriving late last night. I slept in until 9:15 when the chorus of birdsong outside our open window woke me. Then I found a crazy made-up Spanglish word (forgive me, native Spanish speakers) in my journal entry from last year. Corazón (heart) + oraciones (prayers), in the masculine diminutive by adding “itos” = little prayers of the heart. Not crazy after all. That makes all the sense in the world, to me at least.    


Yesterday I received two queries from friends, one a young parent, the other a city leader. My first reaction is still to wring my hands, then to act and solve…as if. Thank God, I paused. I am clearer after a night’s rest and from here in my blue room. My prayers are crystalizing. They are always the best response I have to offer. From here, I can help with connections and encouragement.