After not finding them for nearly an hour. Bob Denver ("Gilligan") died, as well as Debbie Reynolds, (Singing In The Rain) mourning her daughter Carrie Fisher who died, as I'm sure you heard. Every day is a mix of triumph and tragedy, with mostly tragedy, or so it seems. But I found my keys. I told a friend yesterday that the transient pleasures of this life will never be enough, and that's surely true, no? We're crying more as a culture, because we can't hide the emptiness anymore. It might be mawkish and shallow, but it's a start. And I found my keys. My favorite coat now is a gift from a friend, and it belonged to his cousin, who died suddenly. I only know of him from a few stories. There is likely nothing I could say to understand what he was like. How do you summarize a life? But I bet he'd be glad I found my keys. And of course it's a metaphor; you really shouldn't leave home without your keys. You can't have thieves break
A Christian blog, because: "For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen." (Romans 11:36)