Gratitude is the first verse of my hymn. I'm insisting on that, no matter what comes next.
The news of a young friend's death coincides with moving a forty year-old father of three into a hospice room.
His mother tells me she still believes in God, more than ever, but she and He will have a "good talk" when they meet face to face.
It is Spring again.
There’s a new baby.
Old friends celebrate big birthdays.
(Mercy, always Mercy is the refrain)