On the anniversary of a loved one's death, the Jews practice Yahrzeit, a beautiful tradition of honoring the dead by giving a donation in the name of the one who has passed on, placing a stone on their grave for a memorial, and lighting a candle in honor of the life lived.

This year, I found myself wondering whether the candle should burn for the full twenty-four hours to memorialize a life that ended far too soon.  The answer that satisfied me was that all of us are given a lifetime, no matter how long or how short.  Richard never hesitated to live each day as though it might be his last.  Of course we miss him, but we need to be glad for his life--not unhappy for its brevity.  

Perhaps it was just because I still miss him, but as I waited by his grave for a while, it seemed as though Richard told me a humorous story:

"A man was frustrated and sad about his life, having lived many years without understanding his purpose. He pleaded with the Lord to give him a vision so he could know the meaning of his life. The Lord gave him a powerful vision, one that shattered his expectations and left him trembling with amazement. But when the man tried to explain his vision to other people, words failed him. Time and again, the same thing happened. Once again he became frustrated and sad. This time he pleaded with the Lord to tell him how to communicate his vision to others.  


God chuckled and said, 'Remember? That's what I gave you a life for.'"


 This year's Yahrzeit donation was a giveaway of Singing from Silence on Goodreads.    

Now that summer break is over, more of my time is going into writing.  The work in progress is Walk Through the Valley, about
learning the Beatitudes from the examples of those who have lived them out.  Jesus gives us the best example of living the Beatitudes that I can imagine.  Here's an excerpt: 

"Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

The Man in the Tree

As Jesus enters Jericho during his ministry, there is a man in that city by the name of Zacchaeus.  As the chief tax collector, he is wealthy.  

His neighbors avoid him like the plague.

He has built his personal empire on falsely inflating his neighbors’ debts to Rome, through the years stealing from the rich as well as the poor.  Zacchaeus now possessed all the Empire a man could ask for, and more.  But he had never grasped the riches of the Kingdom of Heaven.  He learned that the more empire he owned, the more his empire owned him.  With every extension of his holdings, he became more enslaved.

He has heard there is a great man who has something Zacchaeus could never own. The man has no home, pays his taxes by means of a miracle, sleeps outdoors like the foxes, eats from the heads of wheat growing on the leavings at the edges of fields--yet is so beloved the crowds follow him everywhere he goes.  Whatever he needs, God provides.  This man Jesus is just the opposite of himself, it seems.  Jesus lives the faith that he had never dared.  If the stories are true, Jesus connects with God’s creation and with others in a way that can only make him wonder.

He has heard it is so, but being a rational man, he needs to see this Jesus for himself.  So when he hears Jesus is on his way, he runs to meet the forming crowd.  He’s too short to see around his neighbors.  He tries to muscle his way to the front, but when they identify him, his former friends elbow him to the back.  Whatever else his neighbors owe, they don’t owe him any kindness.  

Still, he must see Jesus.  . . . (more)