Searching for Sweetness

So much has changed.

Today's headlines are the kind that could make anyone long for a retreat.

In the American countryside, so far, at least, the bad things that happen in too many of our cities seem far away and surreal. As we attend our local church or mill about in one of the hundreds (if not thousands) of vibrant small-town community festivals, we enjoy the company of our peace-loving, multi-colored neighbors, who learned long ago to live by the motto "do unto others as you would have done unto you." 

Are there answers to age-old problems of sinful humanity? Why do bitter people seem to enjoy being bitter? What's to stop people given over to envy from snarling, oblivious that most successes arise out of effort and sweat?

Perhaps rural people are less contentious because we know that, when the rains finally fall, the ground cares nothing about the color or background of the farmer whose produce it had been refusing to yield.

It's only natural to long for quiet. For calm and tranquility. For something sentimental. For something sweet. 

We can pray. And we can think of simple things and sentimental times...and hang onto those...and we can refuse to let go.

So...here's a picture of grapes growing on our grapevine. It's been a good year, and these fruits are plump and sweet. 

Think I'll make me some grape jelly.