A lazy morning of toast and coffee—the whole day stretched out before me, unencumbered by anything that needed my attention. I watched the life in the garden wake up, greeting the new day. A mother bird fed her little one at the feeder, offering him sunflower seeds, his hungry mouth wide open. A baby bunny hopped through the fence slats and sniffed his way towards the new lettuce starts. His tall ears picked up my footsteps on the deck, and he bounded off in the direction from which he had come. Here, on the cusp of the approaching summer, new life was emerging. “It’s good to see the little ones that have come into the world,” I said to God. “It’s the beginning of their journey.”
My thoughts turned to my uncle, who is coming to the end of his life’s journey, the train bound for glory pulling into the station for him any day now. We are all just coming and going. What we choose to do with our time here is up to each of us, I thought. My uncle made good use of his time—a kind and loving man— goodness and mercy following him all the days of his life. “Welcome your good servant home, God,” I prayed. “He journeyed well.”
The baby bunny, still hungry, peeked through the fence. I called and waved to him. “Come on in; there’s plenty for everyone.” I walked inside so that he might feel safe enough to join the others in the garden— each on their journey— as we all are.
*In honor of my Uncle Charlie.