Beloved:

     I’ll be away next week, checking out colleges with Ben.  In eight days we’ll visit eight schools in Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island.  

     I’m looking forward to the time away and having him all to myself.  There’s little doubt he’ll leave home for college and I feel the separation already begun.  It’s not unlike picking out his first grade lunchbox; missing him and being so excited for him to go.  When he was four, he asked us to read to him from Carl’s old anatomy textbook.  At sixteen he asks college reps about opportunities for undergraduate research.  In between his dream of being a doctor hasn’t wavered.  He studies, sleeps, swims and eats – in that order.  I cook and keep the fridge full but am otherwise of little help since  AP calculus and physics are a smidge outside my area.  

     Mostly I wonder at the privilege of being witness to his life; seeing him grow from baby to man.  He’s smarter than the average bear and so far treats that giftedness responsibly.  He will be a doctor if he chooses to be.  It’s been my portion to watch and pray.  I’ve laughed a lot, been scared to death, cried with pride and a few times resisted the urge to sell him to gypsies.  But joy has been the main and most persistent; he is a joy to his parents and surely to the Lord.  God, keep him safe and me grateful.

 peace & prayers, ~pastor annette

     

        

    

Homily on an Autumn Pepper
Seven months is an ridiculously long time to grow one pepper.  
On the other hand, I learned some things,
like how they change color from the top down.  
Red slides over green like poured paint. 
Wildlife won’t touch them. 
On their nightly guerilla raids, Stealth and Capone, the raccoons, 
leave half eaten tomatoes and uprooted tubers;
but sidestep sweet peppers altogether.   

Most of all I’ve learned, of course and again, to wait.  
Life happens in its own way and time. 
Mine is to choose how I will live in the growing season.  
Summer is winding down, the earth is preparing to sleep. 
Autumn’s unspeakable beauty soothes the frustration that goes with,
 “I should have gotten more done.”  
But it only soothes if I’m willing; 
if I notice and allow the earth its due rest.  

The Lord willing, I’m going to eat the pepper for supper today.  
I expect it to taste like sunshine and grace. 
           ---Annette Hill Briggs


Thanks to Joyce Cookman for making this post into a poem!