If I believed the old adage that bad news comes in threes, I'd be breathing a sigh of relief. Three death notifications in two days: Uncle Dick, our friend Sandy's mom, and coworker Dave. But add in Mark's struggles in Bend, and little Arthur's, and Matt H. leaving, and I must remember that all of this is not mine to bear, but to pray.
Still need to write about the first of all these things. Don't know whether I can share it all, though, or even at all.
Despite it all, I must give thanks for the blessings I associate with each of these, as I lift up each person, each family, each concern.
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