A sparkling conversation arose one morning due to a white-wool cardigan. Perfect in shape, size and cleanliness, yet undesired on this fall morning by this little girl.

When the crowds shouted their hosanna’s lifting Jesus up to the title of king, or emperor, Jesus finds a young donkey and sits on it to fulfil what was engraved in the prophesy of Zechariah 9:9 “… See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

I’m not a cat person. Not even a dog one, to my kids’ disappointment. But I grew up on a farm where we had at least half a dozen of kitties at a time. These tailed ‘fluffies’ would often come and parade their ‘catch’ in front of us. On purpose, I know. They relished seeing me scream at the sight of an upside-down rodent.

I was only allowed to gently dust them, and then return each to its yellow ring imprinted on the white spot they belonged to for many years. I’d line them up with perfection, as if at a beauty pageant. Some took pride in their intricacy, while others in their simplicity.

My mom lost her mom when she was a teenager. On her birthday.

I once made a joke to Dr. Smith that I’m pretty good at sinning. He then said “Naty, I never joke about sin.”

I read that verse multiple times still having no clue what it was about. The flashing ads of my online bible were stealing my focus, sliding my eyes to the left. Silly ad, it had grabbed my attention.

A lot of us take pride in our busyness, yet Jesus capped us all with his overflowing schedule. We tire out sitting at a desk for hours, loading and unloading laundry, sorting out problems, fixing what’s broken, or getting interrupted from our tasks. At the end of the day we’re in need of a vacation.

Matthew records the day Jesus took a bunch of demons out of two men and allowed them to enter a herd of pigs.

The phone rang. It read Aurelia. I was glad she beat me to it this time. I was intending to call her and let her know on Tuesday I’m stopping by.