I have written another letter, this one again about my mother. I hope it is a help to you. I apologize that I didn't get this up on Sunday. This past weekend was a difficult one for a couple of reasons.
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Dear Friend,
Well, here we are in the midst of the COVID 19 crisis. Regardless of your opinion on the subject, it's impossible to deny that there is a crisis in many countries because of it. I've seen so many things - good, bad, and indifferent - written and posted about it. People encouraging others in many ways. Churches stepping up and doing things new and strange to them, but which obviously needed to be done because...well, here we are, and God is forcing us to do them. People lamenting the loneliness, the stress, the cabin fever (as we call it in some parts). People trying hard to follow guidelines, people half-heartedly obeying the rules, and people cavalierly doing as they jolly well please. People sick and some dying. Questions, questions, questions. Very few answers that seem to be absolutely unquestionable truth. So much to say. So much to complain about. Some with much to do. Some with nothing to do. All can pray, if we will. And we can read God's word.
So many things I could write about. But something is pressing upon my mind that at first might seem unrelated.
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