It’s tough to concentrate in a warm basement listening to Christmas music. Outside it is snowing. I’m inside. Feeling sleepy after a hot sandwich and soup. It’s real warm in here, and I can’t seem to get my thoughts to stand still.
I found out yesterday that an old friend (Anthony) was stuck on a mountain. Later that day they found the body of another one of my old friends (Luke) who was with him.
They couldn’t send out search and rescue teams today because of the avalanche danger. Instead a helicopter is flying around searching from the air. Anthony has bright red hair, and I want him to be found so that he can joke about it being what saved him. I don’t think he’ll ever joke about it though; I don’t think anyone will.
It’s warm in here, and I’m trying to get my thoughts to stand still. I can’t seem to keep from wondering about Anthony. I look over at my bookcase and see the three-book set on the Psalms he gave to me when he left Bellingham. I wonder what scripture will be read at the memorial service for Luke.
All I want to do is sleep until I can read Psalm 23 again and actually believe it.
All I can bring myself to do is re-phrase another Psalm, and offer it up as a prayer:
O Lord, don't forget Anthony;
Don't be far from him.
Come quickly to help him,
O Lord our Savior.