I had to stop at the post office.
I love my little post office.
It is a place where everyone knows your name.
The post office closes for lunch between 12:00 and 2:00 every day.

I have had to wait until after lunch to bring my package on many days.
A busy morning often prevented me from getting there before noon.
I would run my errands around town and stop at the post office on the way home.
Ideally, stopping at the post office in the morning is best.

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I was remembering German class.
Not my high school German class but rather my college German class.
I have no idea why I decided to take German again in college.
I had tested out of the language requirement; however, I thought it would be interesting.

I was immersed in the language and the culture.
Immersed as much as I could be living in this country and not that one.
My German professor was herself, German.
She spoke with a lovely accent.

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I missed the phone call when it came.
I did not listen to the voicemail until later.
It was a friend with whom I do not talk to routinely.
It was a friend with whom I enjoy catching up.

There was something in her voice.
I wondered if this call was more than just a catch up call.
I was heading out and decided that I would call her while I was driving.
I assured her at the outset that I was hands free.

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I saw the photograph when she posted it on Facebook.
I immediately loved the photo.
I actually commented on it.
I wanted the photographer to know how much I appreciated her work.

The photographer goes to my church.
She has a full time job as the Director of Technology and Media at a local Christian school.
Photography is her passion.
Photographing nature is what she loves to do best.

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You know the feeling.
You come to the end of a book.
You have invested time and emotion into the story.
You have reached the last page.

It is a bittersweet moment.
The characters become a part of you.
You savor every nuance of the story.
Turning the last page is the end of something and the beginning of something else.

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It was the day of the women’s retreat at my church.
The women were really looking forward to a day of being together.
Usually, the retreat is held at retreat center for an entire weekend.
Every few years, the retreat is held at our church and is a day long event.

There is something about women’s fellowship that is so precious.
There is something about getting away for an entire day to refresh our spirits.
We all see each other in church, but with two services, we do not see everyone all the time.
This day, we were all together and it was truly sweet.

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We all know the anatomy of a heart.
We can name or point to major arteries and valves on a diagram.
However, every once in a while a part of the heart that is not on a diagram is seen.
That part, which is never labeled on a diagram is your heart strings.

We forget we have heart strings until something tugs at them.
We forget that they are an important part of our heart until we feel the warmth they exude.
Our heart strings are there and may even lay dormant until that one day.
One day, you will feel them as never before.

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Usually I walk by myself each morning.
It is my time to pray.
It is my time to think.
It is often my time to reflect.

There is always the morning wave to various neighbors as they go to work.
Sometimes, one may even stop and talk for a few minutes.
Our conversation is cut short if a school bus needs to pass by.
Once in a while another neighbor may be out walking.

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Our church built a new sanctuary.
The former sanctuary is still there.
It is now being used for the youth.
It is a blessing to be able to use two wonderful places for God.

We moved into the new sanctuary right before Christmas last year.
Instead of having two services, the congregation met all together for a few weeks.
It is such a blessing to have watched this project go from groundbreaking to completion.
It stands as a testimony to God’s goodness and faithfulness.

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Our son and his wife got a puppy.
They already had a cat.
Both their cat and their dog seem to be friends.
The animals are well loved.

They chose a Springer Spaniel or rather, she chose us, as my son like to say.
My son told me the story about the day they went to get their dog.
All the other puppies were indifferent to us, he told me.
But this little one stretched up towards us and when we saw her eyes, we knew.

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