Yevet Tenney

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The summer sky after a rain is a glorious sight. The stars shimmer in the velvet blackness of infinity and the feeling of loneliness surrounds me as I realize I am only a speck of nothingness in a vast cosmos of other worlds.

The other day I was mopping my floor with my fancy mop, one that piddles on the floor and I mop it up, cleaning the floor like magic! I smiled as I remembered my childhood and teenage years, when I was floor cleaning Cinderella-style on my knees with a pan of water and a scrub brush.

“It’s not my fault! I didn’t do it! I can’t do it! It’s too hard! The devil made me do it! I saw it on TV. I couldn’t help myself. It’s an addiction.” The excuses never end. It is easy to look outside ourselves and blame others for our predicaments.

The ball has dropped! The confetti’s been tossed. The whistles have blown and the firecrackers and sparklers have burned to ashes. The old man of the year has staggered out and the babe of the New Year bounces in with hopes and dreams of the coming twelve months.

Christmas lights twinkle along sidewalks and glitter in store windows. Christmas carols softened the rush of shopping as people began to mimic the wise men who followed the star in the east and came to worship He who was born in Bethlehem. They brought gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.

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Since my infancy, I have heard the stories of Jesus and grew up with their messages ringing in my ears, but I never cease to marvel how sometimes deeper meanings leap out at me, and I see the events with different eyes. The story of the nine lepers is one of those stories.