Back in the prayer window, gazing southwest across the
valley. Most of the orange and yellow leaves have dropped from the Norwegian
elm, blown off by winds and pelted off by rain while we were away. Scolty Hill
is clearly visible again through the bare branches. Nobbles on the tree trunk,
unique and beautiful, are revealed.
My dear Mom. Many of the traits I associate with her have
dropped now, in her 96th year. But clearly visible is her grateful,
loving heart, her deep faith, the beauty of her soul.
Autumn is a beautiful season. Poignant and heart-breaking as
it is to watch familiar traits disappear, when the trunk is sound and strongly
attached to the roots of the Lord, the beauty is achingly awesome.
I am so grateful that whatever the future holds, we will
always be connected through those eternal roots.
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