Good morning and hello friends,
The 4:45 PM alarm just went off on my phone. Again. It’s time to prepare mom’s dinner.
I stood there, holding it, while the sound faded. The routine is gone, but the reminder remains. I need to delete it. I will. Just not today. It’s a strange little monument, a daily stumble over a memory.
The same hesitation applies to the stack of mail on the counter. Her name. Every bill, every piece of paper is a small, administrative ghost. Changing them over to my name should be a few clicks of the mouse or an email. But that act feels like an erasure. A final signature on a page I didn’t want to turn. I know she’s in better hands. The best hands. That doesn’t make my hands feel any less empty.
Death has been a closer neighbor lately. The man down the street, the one who picked up litter and helped the older folks with their yards, died in his sleep this week. Sixty-seven. He rode a bicycle everywhere. His brother found him in bed faced down in his pillow the next morning. He hadn’t been to a doctor in thirty years. I don’t judge that. I understand the desire to avoid the machinery. But I wondered, standing there hearing the news, could it have been avoided? Then I thought, maybe that’s how I’d want to go too. In my sleep. In my own bed. When He calls. Not a moment before.
My father is back from New York. He’s here with Wiggles and me for now. He mentioned a wedding up there in October. I thought, What if God has different plans? but didn’t say it. Some questions are too heavy for 6 AM coffee chat. They just sit with you.
My mind has been living in the book of Hebrews. Wrestling with priesthoods. The Levitical line, endless, temporary, repetitive. Then Melchizedek’s, king of righteousness, king of peace, without beginning or end. A priesthood not of lineage but of indestructible life. The text doesn’t say it, but I can’t help wondering… was that pre-incarnate Yahusha? It reads like a shadow finally meeting its substance.
And it leaves me with a practical, itchy question: if the “new” covenant gives us direct access through one eternal High Priest, Yahusha, why do we keep building human mediator platforms? It feels like being given a car with power windows and choosing to roll them down with a wrench. Why use the wrench when you have the button? Perhaps the simplified musings of a new babe in the walk.
Wiggles is recovering from an eight-mile hike we did yesterday. I held out her leash this morning. She gave me a look that clearly said, “Pops, the AC and this floor are my covenant today. We’ll reconvene later.” I respected the terms. She knows her own body’s limits better than I.
The podcast episodes are stacking up in my mind. They require time, focus, funds…all in short supply. I’m learning to hold plans loosely. Maybe the provision comes. Maybe it doesn’t. My job is to be ready for either.
Tomorrow is Sabbath. I’m looking forward to the boredom, the quiet, the complete stop. A different kind of alarm…one that signals rest, not responsibility.
That is all, and thank you for reading.
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Shashue Monrauch