Across the world of social media and other avenues of advice and admonitions and things we are told to look at, the message, memes and themes of the day are about Thanksgiving. In our house the great meal is muted as we wait for a child to return home from college next week. Then we will give thanks together.
This picture is from a local bridge that straddles two parks in Columbus, Ohio. Looking at it reminds me of the tune “Over the river and through the wood” that is one of the few Thanksgiving anthems people sing. It is a bridge that we sometimes cross on our way not to grandmother’s, but to the home of a nearby aunt.
In looking up the lyrics of that song there is no reference to a bridge. Lots of snow and a horse, too. (We ride bikes weather permitting). But there is no bridge. However it takes a little imagine to think there is one somewhere along the route.
No doubt many of us have heard and used the expression “we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it”. This is a phrase that can have some great heft to it, or simply gets uttered to put things on a back burner. Other time it means, again simply, we need some time to think. And reflect.
After a time of personal reflection and technological re-boot, the Magazine reappears today with a wonderful prayer of thanksgiving from frequent contributor Terence Aditon (just in time, maybe for those looking for something to say today).
Also we begin the serialization of a new book by a hospital chaplain in Columbus, Ohio. Chaplain John Ruiz, a Methodist minister who has served in hospital chaplaincy for over a decade, has written A Chaplain’s Perspective: On the 2020-2021 Pandemic. Tragedy, Resilience, Hope. This is his latest work on connecting society, theology, and everything in between. The essays John has written are dedicated to the healthcare heroes and support staff he has worked so closely with to whom he has dedicated his book in caring for patients.
Coming up this Sunday will be a contribution from Kurt Aschermann on retreats.
As is true for so many of us, personal reflections are just that. And while I won’t share the breadth and depth of my own here, I will share that part of my thinking was how this space was to look. I’ve appreciated the submissions of so many over the past few months. Please do not stop sharing your work. Generally this space will be, I hope, one of broad and challenging perspectives for all of us.
If you have sent something recently, please do so again. The technological re-boot was my working to get out of gmail exile. Google was happy to tell what had happened, but was not so keen on sharing how to fix. Emails from October and up until November 14th seem to be lost. Apologies to all for this glitch.
Thanks for patience and understanding. Now onto crossing the next bridge and beyond. With Thanksgiving and hope for what’s on the other side.