Hands intrigue me. I notice people’s hands wherever I go. Hands contain a wealth of knowledge. For many years I was afflicted with sweaty palms when it came time to shake hands. Between church and work it seemed that there was always a need to grab my fellow companions’ hands and…pump. Prior to the ritual, I would do everything to attempt to dry them…but as I looked out of the corner of my eye to see the person with whom I had just clasped hands…dry their hands on their garment…I knew that I had not succeeded. One day the perspiring hands went away…about the time that I retired.

The hands of the elderly are full of their lives message. You can see the care that they have given their family and the toil of their life. I had a cologne container from Avon many years ago that when it became empty I saved it…as it was a hand. The Bible likens a hand to the fivefold ministry of God. Most Christian faiths regard the hands as significant to ordination and baptism.

‘And it came to pass at the seventh time, that he said, Behold, there ariseth a little cloud out of the sea, like a man’s hand. And he said, Go up, say unto Ahab, Prepare thy chariot, and get thee down, that the rain stops thee not.’ I Kings 18:44

What is more precious than a little baby extending its hands to be picked up by its mother? Or, how about the hands that give a cool drink of water to the thirsty.

The office or white-collar worker may have smooth hands while the blue-collar worker’s hands are rough and calloused. Hands hold deep meaning. They are tools for caring for ourselves and for our families. Jesus told Thomas to place his fingers in the holes of his crucified hands.

He sat on the street of New York City. He was blind and homeless and he had fashioned a sign that said, ‘You may curse me for $1. Some tourists fresh out of the Broadway Theatres and on their way to a fine New York dinner…did just that and they laughed and the blind man laughed a hollow chuckle. Suddenly a kind voice spoke. ‘How long have you been blind…my friend?’ ‘I was born this way…good sir…have you an epitaph for me…I am part of the great unwashed and unnoticed and unloved…’ He put his hands under his arms and lifted him up to a standing position. ‘Come to my house and I will make you dinner and there is a hot bath…and a clean and warm bed for you to lay your head on,’ he said. ‘But I am loathed by the multitude and those with resources see me as dysfunctional and lazy and feel that they are enabling me to rely on charity…but is a sore manner to be enabled as children spit on me and some kick me…many do not pay the dollar after they have sworn at me and reviled me,’ the blind man said in little more than a whisper. ‘Not today…I have a job for you in my business and your demonstrated communication skills and ingenuity have illustrated to me that you are just the man for the job,’ he said.

‘I am reluctant to ask…but are you Jesus,’ the Blind Man asked? ‘I am you…and you are me,’ he said with tears in his eyes…

Wind fascinates me. You can not see it but you can witness its effects. We have been experiencing a lot of wind in our neck of the woods for some time. However this evening it is almost still. Our unseen force called wind governs much of our lives. It has been said that politicians place their finger in the wind to determine which way it is blowing and thus what their political agenda will be.

Wind can devastate and destroy. The ferocity of its wrath is unparalleled in our physical world. Wind can also calm the savage beast and humankind alike with a gentle brush against our cheek. God’s love may be likened to a gentle breeze.

Winds of change are real. We travel from day to day believing that we are the ‘Master of our ship and the Captain of our souls,’ when indeed we are riding on the Wind Of Our Life. At times we wonder how we got to the place where we find ourselves. How did some relationships end abruptly while others blossomed like the Rose of Sharon in the desert? How did we set out to do one thing and wind up doing something completely different?

As a young man, I wanted to be a minister. In a few years, I found myself a manager/administrator at Southern Illinois University @ Carbondale and had the unique opportunity to help people succeed as we kept the camps immaculate.

At first, the wind can be a bit frightening because it sneaks up on you…you can not see it. If we can learn to follow its currents we will find that it is moving us into a safe harbor and a shelter from the storm.

As G.K. Chesterton told us, ‘We are all in the same boat on a stormy sea…and we owe each other a terrible loyalty…’

Adoration can take many forms. MJ and I attended the artist Carolyn Hollabaugh’s Art Opening at Fellowship Hall of First Presbyterian Church in Carbondale. The show is entitled Watercolor Aplenty. Carolyn’s Art is mesmerizing. I soon heard a soft voice say ‘Jay’ and there was Carolyn coming over to greet me as well as complimenting me on my photography. What a high compliment from such a wonderful artist! As I observed Ro and Lisa, her daughter, assist Carolyn in her show I thought what a loving family.

Seek we do the objects of our affection. Whether it is literature or fine art or theatre or a sense of place. We long for home and the warm feelings of belonging and being wanted and even needed. We adore our faith but indeed faith of necessity takes physical form. Painters illustrate the majesty of God and his intricate and unusual creation. A painting can reveal the depths of emotion and pleasure and even the pain of our human experience.

Painting is communication. We have a small window into the artist’s soul. We see the world through their eyes. We feel what they were feeling when they painted a work of art. We adore the beautiful humanity and the glorious depiction of the Secret…that is life.

As I am enjoying my halcyon days I have bonded with our home…Earth. It dawned on me a few years ago that I am outside much of my waking hours. Everything about nature intrigues me. What at one time was in the background of my thoughts has taken center stage. As I was driving to the Woods this morning I saw a parade of Wild Turkeys crossing the road in front of me. As the Blues Brothers were fond of saying…’They were on a mission from God.’

I took our home for granted…a bit during my younger years. There was money to be made and places to go and people to see and things to do…and after all, Earth had been here before me and no doubt would be here after I am gone. The majesty that surrounded me was the landscape of my next adventure…but it seldom entered the foreground.

Earth is somewhat sad at our neglect. Ask our friends about the animals. Extinction is rampant. The polar bears have no where to lay their weary heads…and we are next…

A sense of place is what we all seek. That quest is hard to realize if our feet are in water while we are at church or the theatre or at home. If you have never experienced this unique situation…visit Venice.

It is in our nature to love those who love us. Earth has shown us, love, since the day we were born…

It was going to be an excellent performance. Steve had prepared the marionettes for days and each one knew their role. Since the Christmas Play at Steve and Susie’s house, they had been hidden away over the entire winter. A few of the puppets did not like the staring role that Santa Claus had taken…but the title was…The Night Before Christmas. ‘And what about our Annual Easter Performance…did I miss that…,’ said Peter Rabbit? ‘You know that is the highlight of my entire year,’ PR continued. ‘If you ask me Steve and Susie seem a bit secretive lately,’ Judy whispered. ‘I am afraid I do not know what it is but something is happening in the Human World,’ Punch agreed.

‘Ask not what your country can do for you…ask what you can do for your country,’ JFK intoned with a smile on his face. ‘Happy Birthday Mr. President…uh…oh shit,’ Marilyn sang as Jackie smacked her with her designer handbag. ‘Marilyn…let me say…you still look good even after my wife hit you,’ JFK winked. ‘Let us do the Cuban Missle Crisis as a production of our own…no Steve or Susie…our own casting and direction…with a twist,’ JFK asked with a wicked smile. ‘It was my finest hour…I have heard said, he continued. ‘We will capture you without firing a shot…we are so far ahead of you in the space race that all you can see is the contrails of our rockets,’ Kruscheve bellowed! ‘Now Mr. Premier…you know that we have already beaten you in the Nuclear Arms Race and will soon be victorious in Vietnam, McNamara said. ‘We have only begun to fight,’ Little Kruscheve said as he removed his tiny shoe and began to hit the desk with it.

Opening night for The Cuban Missile Crisis Redux had arrived. In the audience were Steve and Susie and Ivy and Jim and Neva J. and Billy B. and Jane and Chet. ‘Are you certain that you know your lines,’ McNamara asked Kruscheve? ‘Yes I know my lines and yours,’ he responded with a huff. ‘Why is Marilyn here…she was not in the original Play,’ Jackie asked JFK. ‘I enjoy her perfume,’ he said.

Suddenly nuclear missiles began to fly across the night sky. Someone had misjudged. Brinksmanship had gone over the Brink… The humans were gone…and the Marionettes…slept in their beds…

There is little debate in the United States that storms and tornados last longer and are more devasting than in the past. It is windy today but then again is it windy most days of late. I met a gentleman in the woods today that agreed with me that it had been windier here the past couple of years…but he was quite certain that humans had nothing to do with the problem. In my youth, you might be able to avoid a tornado but their cone was small…while today they can be a mile wide and stay on the ground for upwards of an hour. ‘But what about the Ice Age,’ my Woods Friend asked.

It has been said, ‘Guns do not kill people…people kill people.’ ‘The cavemen and cavewomen killed each other with a rock,’ semiautomatic weapon defenders will tell us. Yes, but not very quickly…

‘We must have any and all guns to defend ourselves against intruders into our homes…and to protect our Second Amendment way of life,’ we say. ‘Stand your ground,’ the Old Man thought as he shot the young African American who was ringing his doorbell…

‘Books are bad…remove the books from school…prohibit them from being read,’ The Governor said. There is one way to think and to hell with the damnable humans who do not accept the One Right Way!

The Old Man Of The Woods said that the storm warnings are very good these days. Rome was the most prosperous country of its day. Its political power reached across the seas. Nero was quite a musician. He could smell the smoke…he felt the heat…and he continued to perform his masterpiece…as nothing was more important than the recognition of his supreme abilities…

It is an especially nice day in Carbondale. I am sitting on the Writing Porch and reflecting on how peaceful and serene the afternoon is. Mylo has been for his annual Vet Visit and has received his required shots. He groused all the way there. He does not like going to the doctor any better than I do. However, when the Vet examined him he was a perfect gentleman…kids!

As I walked the streets of Herrin this morning I admired the historic buildings and the quiet rhythms of the city. I have been watching an Apple TV series entitled Extrapolations. It prognosticates the condition of our lives a decade at a time up to 2070. The controlling factor is Global Warming. The program does not make science fiction assumptions but common sense extrapolations of the effect of increasing temperatures. It caused me to think that we humans do not understand what we have and how fragile it is.

As the saying goes, ‘We doth protest too much.’ We hold our Second Amendment rights so sacred that the lives of our children take second place to the supreme right of the gun…

Our home is dying…but probably we will die first…so we will not have to experience it…

America for the Americans…we cry as we wrap ourselves in the flag and hug it and kiss it. Someone told me once that Native Americans were foreigners… We must protect our jobs we proclaim…while crops rot in the field for lack of harvesters…do you want to pick some fruit?

Many of us are still in the locked room after the resurrection in fear of what will happen to us if it is discovered that we followed our leader who the religious/political world crucified…

Perhaps it is time for us to unlock the doors and let the sunlight in…and go to work as…peacemakers.

It was a dark day. But then again it had been a dark day since the incident. Fear hovered like a cloud over the friends. The conversation had been replete with rumors and stories and unbelievable renditions regarding what had happened since the death of Hope. ‘I tell you…I saw him in the marketplace and he was buying some figs,’ he said. ‘Well, he did enjoy the occasional fig…and fish…he loved a good plate of fish,’ she added. ‘My crew asked me what I was planning on doing now that he is gone and some suggested we move away to avoid the danger that is obviously in store for us as his followers,’ the Old One said. ‘Oh it is not so dangerous as long as we do not venture outside until the heat of the moment has cooled…the doors are securely locked and I check their security hourly,’ DT noted.

‘Nic told me that it is not safe to attend synagogue as they have sentries posted to see if we attempt entry,’ the boy lamented. ‘I saw him…he looked wonderful too except for the wounds that he received in the house of his friends,’ she said with a glowing smile. ‘We saw the tender mercies of the Romans when it came to our leader…what do you think that they have in store for us,’ the Doctor asked? ‘No one treated me as if I mattered…before him…he treated me as an equal,’ little Z said.

‘Peace friends…DT I heard that you wanted to see my wounds…I have purchased us some figs…does anyone have some fish… let us have dinner…’

Reverend Beyler told us yesterday that Jesus’ disciples were together with the doors locked for fear of the Jewish leaders after his crucifixion, as many times as I have read the scriptural reference regarding the locked doors Judy’s clear explanation of how afraid the disciples were resonated with me for the first time. She likened their feelings a bit to how we feel today. We are afraid. We are surrounded by concerns and dangers and potential threats. We are a little housebound. Of course, we are not far removed from Our Pandemic and the fear of encountering another human.

Hope happens when we are with others. Fear subsides in the smiling faces of friends and loved ones. Peace is prolific in the shared experiences of our fellow travelers. It has been said that we are a generation that lives more in our heads than any other. The social experiences of many of us are engaging with our many screens. Direct human-to-human conversation can help to ameliorate the dark thoughts that have developed through loneliness and lack of input from others.

‘Later on that day, the disciples had gathered together, but fearful of the Jews, had locked all the doors in the house. Jesus entered, stood among them, and said, ‘Peace to you.’ Then he showed them his hands and side.’

Peace can come in no matter how securely we have our doors locked.

‘The end draweth nigh,’ said Chet with a hood over his head and eyes. ‘What end are you speaking of,’ asked Jane? ‘Why the end of school for the year, of course,’ Chet answered. ‘Don’t forget the exams and then the field trip to Six Flags,’ added Billy B. ‘I hear that their roller coaster is wicked,’ Daryl said with a sly grin.

‘Six Flags could not be better than New Harmony, Indiana…it was fascinating,’ Billy B. noted. ‘I had just received my Big Swinger Polaroid Camera and did I ever snap some fine photos,’ he continued. ‘New Harmony was historic,’ Jane said. ‘Yes and no rollercoasters…they make me nauseous,’ Chet said with a sick look. ‘The year of New Harmony is the year that I was playing the Tenor Saxophone…Mr.Prince told me that he had never heard a beginner play the musical scales better,’ Billy B. said with a grin. ‘Do you remember the strange woman that we saw dressed all in black and who told us to come into her home…that was built in a hollowed-out massive tree,’ asked Daryl? ‘She looked like a Witch to me… directly from Salem,’ answered Jane as she shook her head. ‘Buddy went into the tree and never came out…so I am told…he certainly did not return with us on the school bus nor to our class,’ Chet said.

Jane spoke to the class and asked them to take a vote as to whether or not they wanted to go to Six Flags or New Harmony. The vote was overwhelmingly for New Harmony! Jane had received a curious note in the mail with a postmark of New Harmony and all it said was…Come And Get Me…