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Remember.

The flowers iin full bloom in the garden. Remember to cut them and put them in the house. Remember to pull off the dead heads and put them away for next spring when I'll sprinkle them on May ground. 

The list. Remember to look at it so as to remember what I wrote down so I wouldn't forget. It's the one part of the process that determines success or failure.

The boys. Remember their soft little sleeping faces. Remember them eating bowls of cereal at the kitchen table singing re-written verses of pop songs (we're great at changing the words as we so choose). Remember them all in the living room doing their homework. One sitting on the couch, one laying on his stomach on the floor, one sitting on the arm rest of the chair where his dad is sitting so he can do some work and watch the candy getting crushed every once in a while.

Remember that God doesn't need our good works. God is not waiting to be appeased by little old  us. It is our neighbor who needs our good work. Our neighbor needs our love, our gifts, our treasures and our mercy. God needs us to be His hands. Remember that.

Forget the bad stuff. Forget storing it up for when we can throw it at someone. Forget hurt that won't let us heal. The devil loves it when we can't let go. The more we hang out to the bummer, then less we will ever believe that love has power. Forget all that.

Songs. I've forgotten how to do it. I keep thinking and trying and coming up empty.  I think I forgot how to write songs.

What I remember is hard to trust. What I've forgotten probably  won't come back. But I've got today. The flowers are in full bloom, the boys are still here, sweater weather is soon to come and the bouquet on the table makes me smile.

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