In July of 1968 the stars twinkled in the night sky over the Bavarian Alps. Our group of participants in The Experiment in International Living – a dozen US teenagers and a dozen German teenagers – had finished eating in the alpine Gasthof. A handsome German boy named Peter – an older “man” of 18 to my 16 – took me by the hand. The two of us wandered along a mountain path to a secluded spot where we could sit, whisper, and flirt.
Pres. Russell M. Nelson famously said, “You’re never too young to learn and never too old to change.” This must be true because I found it on Pinterest in lovely lettering. As a quarterly blog theme, it’s a fun and challenging truism that gooses me out of my comfort zone.
What is one never too young to learn? Quantum physics? I would think so,
During the passing of the sacrament I decided to prep myself for Sunday School by reading the scriptural passage we’d be studying. Isaiah 54. That first verse caught my attention in a visceral way:
“Sing, O barren, thou that didst not bear; break forth into singing, and cry aloud, thou that didst not travail with child: for more are the children of the desolate than the children of the married wife, saith the Lord.”
I know many women for whom fertility issues are a great source of anxiety and grief. My own three children were hard to come by, but relative to those who want children but can never have them or lose them early I can only imagine the heartbreak. And, given Isaiah’s setting where being barren (even though it may have been the guy’s problem!) was deemed “shameful”, the problem was exacerbated by that unjust layer of societal disrespect.
The parable of the talents bugs me, so I have spent some time wrestling with it, chomping on it, working some useful meaning from it into my bones. I like that that the wealthy man gives the same reward to both servants who …
Beneath the rubble of Christmas morning, I chanced upon a small dolly, cozily tucked up to his armpits in a red and green felt stocking. I could call the gesture motherly, but I knew better by the skew of his striped nightcap, and then, by the presence of foil-wrapped chocolate Santas still underneath his feet: …