Sooo Happy To Be Back In New England! Oh Fall, Ive Missed You So Much!

Sooo happy to be back in New England! Oh fall, I’ve missed you so much!

Falling for fall 🍁

do you ever just think about Jesus living here on earth 

i think sometimes we tend to think He just bounced from one miracle to another and everyday was a Bible story but His ministry lasted for three years and the Gospels don’t actually cover that much so

imagine all those ordinary days?? 

He probably had favorite foods and morning routines and sore dirty feet from walking while sweat ran in His eyes in the hot Judean sun and He got blisters and hiccups and colds and maybe He snored 

all the times He laughed till He cried and i bet He had inside jokes with His disciples. imagine having an inside joke with the person who gives you breath to laugh in the first place 

and He had human skills He knew how to build a house and cook and wash his clothes and read 

passing food at the dinner table and bumping hands with Jesus 

talking about silly inconsequential things like the weather 

maybe some nights John was sleepy and he leaned against Jesus and could hear His heartbeat 

maybe some nights a disciple had insomnia and he climbed out of his bedroll to find Jesus sitting against a rock, looking up at heaven, and they sat and watched the stars together 

(the God of the universe looking up through short-sighted eyes at His creation, and the disciple wants so badly to ask what it was like to shape each star, but he looks at those calloused human hands and something in him trembles) 

do you ever think that the ordinary days so far outnumbered the miraculous ones that the disciples, sometimes, almost forgot

and then He goes and turns water into wine and feeds five thousand people from a kid’s lunch and brings dead Lazarus walking alive out of the tomb and they just kind of lose their breath

not because they didn’t expect deity to accomplish the impossible but because this God has been living with them

it’s not the miracles that are unthinkable

Spring and Fall

GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS to a young child

Márgarét, áre you gríeving Over Goldengrove unleaving? Leáves like the things of man, you With your fresh thoughts care for, can you? Ah! ás the heart grows older It will come to such sights colder By and by, nor spare a sigh Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie; And yet you wíll weep and know why. Now no matter, child, the name: Sórrow’s spríngs áre the same. Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed What heart heard of, ghost guessed: It ís the blight man was born for, It is Margaret you mourn for.