It is 85 degrees today with a 30-degree drop by Saturday. It is difficult to know what to wear. Green shoots and buds are appearing everywhere. The miracle of life surrounds us. Life is rich. We think about tomorrow when we are in the midst of excitement today. At any moment, there is more to experience than we can measure.

We instinctively understood as newborns that we had entered a mysterious place. We were overwhelmed. Something life-changing had happened. Abruptly set down in a place we had not imagined. We discovered where the soothing voice came from.

The woods were lovely this morning. A squirrel scampered about with sheer joy and speed of purpose. The Old Man walked through the Woods thinking about the challenges of Christ as he headed for his final week. The mystery and majesty of the Man was his willingness to suffer an ignominious…cruel…death. He was the son of regular folks…his dad was a carpenter. Christ had many poor, unloved people as his friends. The Common man heard him gladly. Christ made the water into wine…not grape juice. He loved a laugh…a glass of wine…talk of the joy of living.

‘I have a gift for you,’ the Deceiver said. ‘You are hungry and tired… your feet hurt and your mind doubts,’ the Deceiver noted with a concerned look. ‘Where are the cadre who swore their allegiance…fidelty…loyalty,’ the Deceiver asked? ‘Are they on a coffee break…holiday…have they left your side from fear…lack of courage…lack of character,’ the Deceiver asked solemenly. ‘Perhaps your Dad’s plan has changed, and he neglected to inform you,’ the Deceiver postulated. ‘Surely he must see your suffering…is he watching the NCAA Big Dance…perhaps he is thinking better luck next time,’ the Deceiver said. ‘What you were told by good old Dad…who is my dear old friend…does not seem to be working out,’ the Deceiver noted. ‘Dad and I have had many productive talks over the millennium,’ the Deceiver explained. ‘He has a great sense of humor…the flood was especially inventive,’ the Deceive laughed. ‘I also admired turning Lot’s wife into a pillar of salt…priceless,’ the Deceiver continued. ‘I visited the Salt Pillar and licked it…it was real salt,’ the Deciver said with a sly grin. ‘Dad wondered why what the Israelites in the Desert saw in the Golden Calf,’ the Decviver mused. ‘He thought it might be an idol fetish, the Deciver smiled. ‘Let me be your Consigliere and cut through the fog of War,’ the Deciver said with calm assurance. ‘I will help you remove the clutter of your questions…the promises unkept…the sorrow of suffering in this God-forsaken Garden…when you are the promised one,’ the Deceiver noted.