“Today I bumped into you again. You seemed like that flower long forgotten in the old diary.” ― Avijeet Das

Most likely our last family photo before dad's passing. Resurrection Sunday, 1953.

It's Tuesday, January 22, 2019. Welcome. It seems this new year is zipping right along. I read a little ditty about people who have the ability to remember almost every detail of everything that has ever happened in their life. It's called Hyperthymesia. Look that one up and read it. Wow! Some estimate there may be only 25 people in the US who have this ability/condition. While I spend a fair amount of time trying to remember stuff, even things that just happened, these folks can tell you what they were wearing the day they first rode their tricycle. I'm not sure this would be a blessing or a curse. I've spoken often about my fuzzy recollections of things that happened prior to my father passing away suddenly in January 1954. The evidence points to a traumatic block of my ability to remember. That has always plagued me to a certain extent. Why? I think it's because I've always wanted to know, from my own memories, my dad. I was seven years old when he died. I've always had a fairly decent ability to recall things. What was he like in his interactions with me? How did his voice sound? At 72, I'm not counting on unlocking these anytime soon. Many would say that I should let sleeping dogs lie. I get it. But, they are not me, therefore, I still see it as unfinished business. I also think it might make for some pretty decent storytelling. And, I'm always on the lookout for a new story.

As you know by now, we no longer watch NFL football games. However, I still see the headlines popping up here and there. Many of the folks we know are both LSU and Saints fans. In the conference championship game between the Saints and the Rams, the officials missed a call very close to the end of the game that would have most likely resulted in a Saints win. The call wasn't made. The Rams won in overtime. Everyone is talking about that missed interference call. Many of our friends are posting the following information on their social media pages: We Were Robbed! It points out the fact that referees are human and subject to failings. I suppose this will be an area where robots might take the human quotient out of the equation. I saw many posted clips of the missed call. It appeared the closest official was looking directly at the Rams player who hit the Saints receiver way before the ball arrived. He knocked him down. That's how we used to play football out in the pasture. Wait until just before the ball arrives and knock the fellow trying to catch it on his rear end. We had no one to call any penalties, just some fisticuffs to settle really serious disagreements. Here we are, with a multi-billion dollar sport and the game is lost to one team because of one missed call. And, everyone saw it. Even the Rams player knew he had interfered. For our friends who love the Saints, I suppose there's nothing like having a little dose of what could have been to help soothe a heartbreaking loss.

Today, our nation will be celebrating National Sanctity of Human Life Day. This is an emphasis on the notion that all lives matter. Every life is precious. Each person is ordained by their Creator and they are made in His image. While the theologians have used up plenty of forests writing about what it means to bear the image of God, it is clear that human life is sacred. It is to God. It should be to us. I taught a lesson about this subject this past Sunday. It was a convicting lesson. To me. Why? Because I know that when Jesus gave His story about the Good Samaritan, He was pointing out the impossibility for us to love our neighbor each and every day the way the certain Samaritan did. (Luke Chapter 10) Loving the unlovable, the untouchables, the enemies, the decrepit. That, by the way, is how Christ loved each of us. (Romans 5:8) My personal view is it's much easier to have a general appreciation and reverence for human life than it is to go out of our way to love a specific individual who might be the vilest in our own estimation. Why? Every day we still have to do battle with our fallen natures called the old-man nature. It is at war with our new-man nature, the one given to us when we gave our heart and life to Jesus. Often the result becomes a great disconnect for the testimony of our faith as individuals and especially as a local congregation. Fortunately, God is still working on me. I hope He is doing the same with you. It should be that way until the time we sing the chorus to: Goodbye World Goodbye! Amen. .....More later.