Ah, spring! The trees bud, the flowers are blooming, shrubs are bursting forth with new floral wonders, the birds are all singing and hastily busy making their nests, making things ready for new life. There’s a new wonderland of freshness and beauty, replacing the drab, unfruitful world of winter.

Daddy was an unusual person. He grew up in an era when cowboys were real. His favorite memory was a cattle drive with his father and his best friend. His was a life of responsibility and a no-nonsense approach to whatever needed to be done. That does not mean he was sour; he loved music, playing with us kids, and was a friendly, controlled, sort of man. Indeed, people always greeted him warmly. Of his eight children, he had to raise seven unaided by his wife (my mother) who was ill and unable to be with him and us at home. When I was five, he became an original "Mr. Mom," remaining home to do all the things a housewife does to care for all of us. Since I was the youngest child, I learned from my older siblings to obey Daddy. From him, I learned to do my tasks without complaining, to be on time, to be thoughtful of others and of animals, to be honest and self-controlled, to be responsible, to never tarnish our family name, and that I could rely on him.

Husband has had a horrible time at work that day. Feeling kicked around, unappreciated and definitely out of sorts, he pulls into the driveway, only to find that his three-year-old has left her tricycle blocking the garage door… again. He leverages his tired body out of the car and lumbers slowly into the house, ready to snap the head from the first person he sees.

When I was five, a great and mighty, awesome, dark river surged swiftly onward not far from the front door of my house. When I was ten, my river, similar to a magic pumpkin, had changed into a babbling brook interspersed with stones large enough for running flying leaps, and splashing wet landings.

Yep, it’s been a really tough few years for everyone. In just about every possible conceivable way. Financially, physically, and emotionally, and it hasn’t really mattered how old or young you are – life has stunk in a lot of ways. And this horrible onslaught of stress and grief is definitely taking its toll. People are struggling to make sense of their lives and to carry on with some sense of normalcy.

What phrase shall I use? Congratulations? Best wishes? Finally? Free at last? We’re proud of you? God bless you? We thought this day would never come? Other similar greetings could be chosen. My choice is: “Congratulations and welcome to your new world.” I envision each one of you waving your diploma and shouting, “Hello world.

One of the greatest mysteries in recent archaeology history is a structure found buried for centuries in southeast Turkey. Gobekli Tepe is a twenty-acre site constructed around 9500-8800 BC and abandoned about 8000 BC. No one knew of it until 1963. Where’d they all go?

Healthy grieving takes time and emotional effort to learn about ourselves, about our family, and about how we are created. Helen Keller wrote, “Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of overcoming it.” We pray that you have felt some comfort, strength and yes, even some victories in handling these waves of grief that came your way.

An elderly man sat near the back row for Sunday morning worship. His wife, daughter, and his mother-in-law sat to his left. There were more seats available to his right. He was hopeful that his son would be there. He hadn’t been there in years.

You can see a lot standing in the checkout line at Walmart. Waiting patiently, your mind occupied while you run through your to-do list for the rest of the day, you are abruptly jolted back into reality by a preschooler.