“You are not too old, and it is not too late to dive into your increasing depths where life calmly gives out its own secrets.” ~ Rilke
He is risen
It was a beautiful Easter in The Bluegrass. Chilly, but gorgeous. Neighborhood children didn’t notice the lack of heat because the sun and the deep blue sky were as welcoming as a warm day. The Dogwoods are popping right now, too. Mamaw Adams loved pink Dogwoods. Knowing this, when she turned 90 or 95, the church bought her a pink Dogwood sapling. We planted it right where she wanted it. It grew strong and beautiful, and within three years, she had it removed because it was blocking her view of the road up by Frederick and May. Lordy Lord, she could be a conundrum sometimes. Still, every pink Dogwood I see, I see Mamaw, and it was especially poignant today since the old legend says it was a giant Dogwood upon whose wood Christ was crucified. You can read a bit more about the legend here. Mamaw loved Jesus, and she taught me to love him, too. We don’t worship the same way, but our faith in goodness and mercy is of one mind, and our belief that Jesus was a groovy, cool dude is solid. You won’t be surprised to learn that pink Dogwoods are my favorite, too.
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