First step . . . changing metaphor

Well, I took the big step yesterday . . . entered the blog-a-sphere. Setting up the blog was easier than I thought . . . although, I still need to learn some of the finer points . . . still can't figure out inserting pictures . . . it will come in time. Now, though, starts the harder part . . . figuring out what to blog . . . finding my blogging rhythm.

Last night while working on Sunday’s sermon I kept hearing odd noises with no idea of their source . . . for a few minutes I wondered if someone was in the attic . . . no, not possible . . . I wandered around the house . . . nothing. Then it dawned on me . . . fireworks . . . Early Fourth of July Celebrations. Certainly there will be more tonight!

This morning when I woke up my brother was on my mind . . . he passed away February 4, 2001 after a four and ½ month battle with cancer . . . when he received the diagnosis it was already stage 4. My Mother, sister and I cared for him at the family home . . . although painful it was a truly beautiful experience . . . and even though we knew what was coming there was a lot of laughter.

I wasn’t there when he passed . . . it was on a Sunday . . . I was at church.

He knew it was Sunday . . . he had asked the hospice nurse. He asked my Mother to come sing to him. She did . . . as he was taking last breathe our Mother was singing . . .

Morning has broken like the first morning;
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird.
Praise for the singing! Praise for the morning!
Praise for them springing fresh from the Word!

Morning broke for him . . . perpetual morning . . . truly that was his independence day.

Today as we celebrate the Fourth in our own unique way let us remember where we find our true freedom . . .

In Christ,

Lydia