My two grandmothers are 87 and 97 years old this year, which is pretty amazing if you think about it. They've lived through the Great Depression, World War II, the Korean War, President Kennedy's assassination, the race to space, the rise and fall of communism, the advancement of the information era, the attacks of 9/11, Covid, and dozen other "once in a lifetime" events. They remember when indoor plumbing was a luxury and yet know what social media is. They're amazing. I can't wrap my mind around the magnitude of what they have witnessed. They lived in real time what we can only read about in history books. It's incredible if you let it sink in. Maybe that's why they're different...not just them, but their entire generation. They're not like us. They don't give up when things are tough. They don't complain about hardships or the unfairness of life. They don't fold under pressure or cower when they face uncertainty. They speak...
Spring has arrived here in Kentucky. Vibrant green fields are sprinkled with wildflowers in brilliant shades of purple. I'm told they're weeds, but it doesn't detract from their beauty. Meanwhile, the trees are budding with with the stunning pastels of dogwoods, cherry blossoms, and red buds. Even the maples and oaks are starting to show signs of life with tiny sprouts of foliage. Accentuating this scene yesterday was the sapphire sky and an early sunset that cast a harmonious golden hue over the landscape on my drive home. It was the most perfect scene for a Palm Sunday. Except when I looked at it, I was reminded that the original Palm Sunday of Holy Week also seemed perfect with people lining the streets shouting "Hosanna," and proclaiming Jesus as their King. Then came the last supper, the betrayal, the weeping in the garden, the suffering, the darkness, and the death. The week between Palm Sunday and Easter was one of waiting, and hurting. W...