On occasion, life, your own very living life is threatened. It is startling. The idea of not living, of the ending of your earthly days, grips your heart and mind in a heinous vise of managed fear, like walking a trail beside a thousand-foot cliff, complete awareness, fatality is so close. And then you are pardoned. You get the call. The reprieve. And you are transported from the cliff's edge to a beautiful mountain meadow, sunlit, full of wildflowers below a cerulean sky. Birds sing, breezes blow and you are laying warmly beside your lover. God does these things. Death is evil. God is good. How does one respond to this God, God life-giving? I have found it helps to build an altar; stones stacked upon earth, a marker, mine Ebenezer.
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